New Abode...All Aboard!

It was exactly 12 years ago in Chennai, when I saw my Mom and Dad lose their home...in a distress sale, even before they could fully own it. For them it was a dream that came crashing down...by the hands of their own kith and kin...with that fall, for me it was a beginning of a new dream...rather, a new purpose and aim in life. Despite being downhill for all of us from there, we moved on from our past and set out to reclaim what was rightfully ours...but with a newer sense of hope. We literally moved form one neighborhood to another in those 12 years and my struggle continued in a search for my identity and a path that would get me to what I thought was a rightful reply to all those who gave us that hell. 

My concerns were bigger...being an average student and the underdog that I was all the time, getting into the creme-de-la-creme was ruled out. My other activities like sports, social service, quizzing, poetry etc was not going to get me anywhere financially or economically for my family. So, I ended up taking what came my way...my B.Com in correspondence was an uneventful blot in my life...dreams of going to a good college was pushed under the carpet and I think and hope this made me stronger and self driven (what one can say to keep their souls intact!). At that point in time, I had idea how I could pursue a future in repute as being a part of the correspondence brigade in this societal perspective was taboo...but I kept moving on. 

Dad's job wasn't stable and many of his friends and relatives kept the engines and wheels moving at home...it wasn't my style of dealing with problems...but I had to agree and move on. Small achievements and recognitions paved my way but it dint seem like a big deal at all at home...they smiled and moved on...so did I. The third year of my course saw my institute close down, us being labelled as the last batch...so then came another question mark being thrown at me...I moved on to a smaller tutor classes and still fought on...on my own. And in 2004, after three years of tumultuous penning and bus journeys with relentless struggles, stooped shoulders, dropping chin...I graduated (without arrears in correspondence!) touching 60%...well nothing to be proud of that number...but something I was happy with because the fight was mine...and I dint go down. 

The Averageness in me carried forward to my Post Graduation days...struggling for that relative grading in my CAT / MAT / XAT entrance exams...making me feel worthless. All the proclaimed genius buds that would attend classes, scribble notes, answer questions etc...would literally make me feel like a foot-soldier...I moved on, fought on...no peers at home who could hand-hold or speak to. But then it happened...got a call from an institute which recognized my XAT score and then...the fight was worth it...the scanty ranking dint make me proud...but I had overcome my past and moved on to fight another battle...(non AICTE institute is another taboo in our societal behavior)

This was another shark pool altogether...and I had to dig down deep to find a new upgraded version of myself. This time the stakes were higher and it was not going to be easy at all. Firstly my father's support system let him down...all kith and kin refused to finance my studies except for my mom's relatives who came forward with a generous offering...I firmly believe that help will come when you need it the most from the people who matter the most...another lesson for all at home. And this gave me the energy to move on and fight my new battles for 2 years in Bangalore...it had it all - from prophesying professors, testing papers, enigmatic characters, fumbled administration to diabolical people and twisted motives intertwined with beautiful moments, great friends, new dreams, painful birthdays, new behaviors, spirited discoveries and tragic comedies. 

In 2006, after many thought (including myself) it wasn't heading anywhere...I graduated again...this time on, the grade wasn't something I was both proud and happy, but I knew I would get the job I wanted the most...and I got it. Despite hypes and hooplas of fellow batch-mates of some companies picking graded folks and smart cookies...I decided to shun the placement office away and with a help of a good friend, got a lead which I could then pursue. It was after they declared me the 2nd person to get a call-sheet and the second last to leave the campus...that was the best the placement committee could get...that's why I fight my own battles, in my own way...and after getting bruised and battered physically and mentally, I fought on and moved on to better stories to tell. 

My first job in 2006 was in a firm that offered me all the slices of the pie in my domain. This meant all my batchmates were just having one of the slices. To me, this was one of those small victories...though it had its own down-side - not the greatest of pay for sure...but then I decided to move on and keep fighting. My bosses had a hard time chipping away the rough edges, picking my brains, testing my temperament and mould me to the man I am today...the sum of all experiences. So did my next job in 2009 and my current which I joined in 2011. All in all 7 years of pursuing what I like the most. I dare ask how many are doing theirs...which brings me back to the first line with which I began this blog with...

In 2010 I got married to a very smart, independent and driven young woman I had ever met before. Nothing in our likes matched...we are polar opposites and she's more educated and learned than me. Just like when I needed help the most in my ultimate dream, she walked into my life and partnered in helping me seek that dream...in 2013 after almost 2 years of planning (of all sorts), we eyed a place in Chennai which we thought would be our abode...well, let me not hide the struggle here...my dad and mom would just not agree or would keep shifting my focus to other areas. While we were actively touring the city inside out, my dad would still be watching matches and my mom would still be cooking and my brother would strum his guitar. 

And by the power vested in us, both me and my wife moved on and kept fightign whatever negativity or objection that came in our path. Little was the support and motivation as usual and it only made me stronger and made me want to earn it. I agree that there have been points where my dad has helped me in tough times, but those were battles where I dint ask help for and it came my way...in other words, I dint earn it.

With the limited power of funds and the unlimited supply of will and self-drive, we moved in to our new apartment...everyone (friends, family, colleagues) around us was over the moon and were happy for us...something I hadn't seen in more than a decade...some even commenting great about the choice of area, some even complimenting genuinely that it was commendable to do something like this at that age...(I was 30 when all of this transpired) and some of them felt that it was poetic justice that was served when the same kith and kin were present when they saw it unfold in their eyes. Sad part was in all these 12 years, my dad was not confident of this silent battle that I was fighting for 12 years and it took other folks around him to convince him that I had taken the right decision. For me it was a dream come true, it was more than a decade worth of blood, sweat and tears....but then I moved on and had to fight another day...this time I have my loving wife to give me company as we took our promises at our wedding 3 years back, it continues to hold true and deep. If it wasn't for her determination, drive and dream, I wouldn't have made this far...and this dream wouldn't have been fulfilled. When you need it the most, you get all the help you need...and she was god-sent.

We are away from the main city and now travel double the distance, find alternatives and seek other means, save a lot more in all aspects...something we were mentally prepared to do...a new kind of battle was beginning and I was already on my way. Some are still coming to terms and appreciate as to how I made it without any dependance, borrowing or sympathy...they will never get the answers...and Ill always keep it to myself. One has to simply undergo this journey and experience it...despite knowing what their destination is...it is the path that matters, it is the beating that you take and still making it to your feet and keep fighting that matters. That's the spirit I always live by...I know my brother has just stepped into such a journey...and I wish him well.

I am standing now...ready for another fight, for I may have won the battle thus far...but this war is far from over!

 

(pic source - http://guillaumgibault.deviantart.com/art/Bruce-Lee-200377861?q=boost%3Apopular+bruce+lee&qo=75)

Mighty Mouse!!!

All of us have been troubled by this little creature...well it has charmed us equally as well. But can it inspire and show us courage in unusual times and places? Of course it can...their persistence and presence of mind is a wonder I am yet to fathom...though they have brought down kingdoms with just their family's humungous presence and spread!  Defiant and Desperate...they have survived the ages and have remained the same...a rare attribute indeed. 

But what I am to narrate is just one tale of courage which will certainly enhance our perspective of this creature. Just visualize this...those petrified eyes, praying paws, shivering whiskers and that villainous nose at work!

Rushing at Mount Road amidst the traffic rush and a speeding clock on my wrists reminding that Im late to work! Abusing, honking, screeching, overtaking...name it, you got it! Its just the usual start to any day...and Chennai is no exception! The dictionary opens its fancy pages and all the words pour like tar sticking to stone...

Amidst all of this exactly at a point called Thousand Lights (Near Greames Road), I saw something that happened for 5 seconds that looked like something that happened for 5 minutes...our protagonist is desperately trying to cross the road on all fours...to it, we are all...GIANTS on a roll! The little brown thing was dodging, jumping, scampering, squeaking and what not...all just to get to the other side of the road...without getting squashed under someone's wheeles...

Sometimes we tend to sight something which is meant to be witnessed despite what happens in our surroundings...like looking into the eyes of a stranger in a packed bus (when you could have seen the person next to them) etc etc...

Similarly this happened too...amidst all that chaos my eyes were glued to my troubled protagonist who in that 5 seconds managed to capture my attention and set my mind racing to see if he would end up safe or not...for his benefit, I got out of his way, avoided squashing him and went on my way...

But something prompted me to look back just to check if everything was alright...and just when I turned my head....the little mighty mouse made it to the other side, with a leap of faith like Michael Jordan jumping to the hoops!

Just when I thought it was a happy ending, I turned my head to resume my journey, I had to hit the sudden break to save my nose from being squashed at the back of a jeep...and I then got back to my abusive journey to work...but this tale kept me smiling all day long...

Cheers Might Mouse!!!

We din't start the fire...

Billy Joel once sang this song with lyrics that reflected the events pertaining to his era, that were relevant to the world. He certainly echoed the issues of multiple scales in a beautifully hard hitting manner that told every listener that there's more to their life than their homes...the planet is theirs!

I strongly feel that our world has only gotten worse post that song and Man has just not stopped to look back, he is hell bent on looking forward, creating a path of destruction, despair and demise. We have killed the very nature of this planet and are continuing to do so mercilessly, knowing not when this will all end and knowing not when to stop...

'At what cost'...one may ask, 'at all cost' one will say...and I wouldn't be surprised if one replied... 'for any price'.

The soil on this planet is soaked in blood that is being shed and people are calling this balance in the name of power. What they don't understand is that once the core tastes a drop from this wretched river, then we will see this earth respond in ways we cannot even imagine or even defend. I am not talking about the supernatural or the spiritual, I foresee a world that will be consumed by the world itself. Name it, you got it...here is a list of some of the 'known' issues that

• The wars waged for Oil and Gold
• The unorganized and unstable governments
• The religious clashes boiling under famine, drought and hunger, 
• The economic crisis with questionable policies and unemployment cases
• The move from dictatorship to democracy and sprawling real estate in the sands
• The population domination, cheap labor market and fake goods markets
• The underdeveloped slowly sinking into the oceans along with its monuments
• The aborigines who are treated like second citizens
• The melting and moving shelves of the Arctic and Antarctic regions
• The piling plastic and e-waste that will be impossible to dispose
• The disappearing and the fading wildlife ecosystem making man the only animal
• The Cut throat competition driving children to suicide and abuse leading to child labor
• The Technology that replaces man and cut costs but will soon chain us in e-prisons
• The piracy rates that will soon kill the art of art itself and no one can own it
• The change in weather and seasons along with the expanding hole in the Ozone
• The growing poor and the filthy rich which may trigger a revolution

This is just top of the head issues that are running in this world but if you delve deep into each continent, country and state, one would find endless issues that impact normal citizens. We are all children of the earth...but why are'nt we treating this planet like our playground, and treating it as a war zone?

According to me, it is our inaction that has caused much of the situation that we are living in today. It is our decisions and choices that has led us here...not anyone's fault, but ours and we have ourselves to blame.

Now that I have ranted this much, what is the way out...or is there one? Now that all the damage has been done, can we still survive...of course!!! We can take a stand against all these issues and behave as sensible humans. If one starts to set the example and lead the way, I am sure more will follow suit. Let us do our part by showing restraint and live life with a non-indulgent and no-nonsense attitude that brings peace and joy to everyone...as cliched as it can get! Just make the person next to you smile...that's all I ask of you...we are our own fathers, we are our own children...

But my optimism does come with a word of caution...do not let the madness of the devil run wild, else we will only be putting out the fires and realize, we will always fall short by a drop. Utopia is always a distant dream, mind you...

We dint start the fire...it was always burning since the world's been turning!

Till the next cut is delivered...

Note - To those who haven't heard Billy Joel's song...here is the link -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFTLKWw542g

Cheers...

Womb to Tomb...

Sometimes I defy writing any sort of philosophy in my blog but the only places I dwell is in birth, life and death...the journey. A few weeks back, the entire journey unfolded in front of my eyes and I had to pen it down...to feel better and to learn what was in store in this uncertain but certain future. So here is my take on what I believe what we are and what we end up being...

We cry, yell, groan and finally smile when we are born...mothers who see that pain as pleasure that is certainly unforgivable. We are born naked...physically, mentally and emotionally. Wrapped and polished for the world to witness another sucker! We want everything we see, we seek, we hunger and thirst for from that moment on...and no one to stop us. We seem to think that we own what hits our sights or hearts or minds...accumulation of both the tangible and intangible then becomes our next quest in life...

Seldom do we put into use what we have gathered...but collection then becomes the order of the day...now comes the crucial thinking point...what are we collecting and what is worth collecting? In India, the quest for wealth (if you are born middle class) or the quest to survive (if you are born in the Below Poverty Line) take charge of our priorities and then all the mayhem begins...societal terms and conditions apply and we then condition to think on those terms and lose our own self in all this madness...it is here where our downfall begins...mistake me not!

We gather but do we bother to give? We take but do we bother to share? All the things in life we learn...but do they teach us how to prepare for our ends to where we go and how we go? Is there something we can establish that says...when we die...we die alone with nothing in our hands except for memories and blessings with our last breath.

My grandfathers sister who stayed with us for more than a year spent her last few weeks bed-ridden...writhing in pain and waiting for her end...a religious woman herself, all she could do was to wait for her calling...and one day it came. But her last few days and her last few words taught me a lot of things in life...and it changed my perspective completely of what we are and what we must be, before we meet our maker.

I gather wealth for survival and not for splurging...I gather knowledge to share and not to hold back from the coming generation...I love music as we are born with the most rhythmic beating of the heart...I write for the world to know of what I am and will be even after when I'm gone...I will love and spread the message of peace and love to everyone around...I don't want to die a hated soul. I learn to laugh than just collecting jokes...and I will not harm or hurt anyone here on...I may have done that in my past...intentionally or unintentionally...herewith not.

I do live in remorse and regret but I have certainly made amends and reduced those heart-burns and heartbreaks and heartaches. I have confessed, apologized, admitted etc...and I feel lighter now...my soul is ready to fly for sure. But a lot needs to be done...in this materialistic society. Intrinsic joy is the current pursuit and I am doing what my heart tells me to...my mind will be my guide...but I will do as my heart tells me. It might sound cliched or corny...but who cares? it is me...my choices that determine who I am and what will I be...it is what I do than what I say or write...

Everyone of us will meet our ends...its the journey that matters that will lead us to our ends. Its a choice we all can make...there is still time, there is still hope to all those who feel defeated and done and dusted with. When I heard those last words from that dying soul...all that mattered to me was that feeling of be happy and keep others around you happy. All that I had collected or amassed turned to dust in that moment of truth...that moment call life...death rather!

I hope my rejuvenated journey will take me to my destination...there is no map...but there is a way...the road less taken...I will one day...after it is time...when all is said and done. I will take my characterful soul with me someday...that has defined me thus far...into another world...empty handed but heart filled...I hope that after I'm gone...I am remembered in good spirits...Cheers!

Lecture at Loyola!

There are times in ones life that disbelief and amusement go hand in hand...moreover, the fact that we are called to demonstrate in what we specialize...not knowing how good we actually are, is a good example! Such a thing dawned on me recently and it was one of those moments where I couldn't stop smiling whenever I thought about it...before the curtain raiser and after the curtain's fall...

A mundane day at the office was shaken by reality that hit me the hardest...dint pain though, got me laughing! All I hoped, that it wasn't a gag...and it wasn't! A call from an unknown number and I was apprehensive that it must be from a damned credit card ad or a ringer tune offering...it was none! This gentleman takes time to introduce himself and the purpose of the call and Im listening...I say just one thing in the entire call...Yes Sure! That's just 10% of the call and the agreement is made...a guest lecture on Creative Writing at Loyola College...audience...final year English literature students from both the bachelors and masters course!

A back-bencher, a rebel and an average studious guy, hated lectures...did it all! Ridiculed professors, cross talking, arguments, bunking, delayed submissions and of all the people, I had been invited as a guest speaker on Creative Writing! It was at that moment I believed in...This is Life! And it was happening...

Next was to prepare for the battle! Students, crowd, young guns, boo's, cynics, distractions et all! My mind was racing in all directions to decide on how to deal with this upcoming debut and it was then I decided to prepare it from a students perspective itself wrapped up with a story of my journey in writing! It was then I reminded of how theories and books dint actually help when I was in college...it still wasn't helping today's generation because we always wanted the real deal...and I was going to give it to them!

How do I dress up? Permission from Office? Announcement to friends and family? Photos and notes? What do I speak? Whom do I refer? blah blah...so may questions! Never knew speaking was so tough...but what the hell! I was to speak on my passion for creative writing...so why fear? That was how I overcame my fears and made my presentation ready!

D-Day...10th March 2010 and the hour nears and I'm all dressed up for the occasion and Boss is happy to give me permission! Friends and colleagues pour in their wishes and calls to wish me well and i set out on a hot summer day on my way to the college! Reach there just in time...damn traffic! I arrive at the scene and Im shown the way to the hall and boy...there was some crowd! A session was in progress and questions galore on journalism as a career...but my mind was elsewhere!

I meet my co-guest speaker...an accomplished poetess Sharanya Manivannan and shes prepared as well...cool as a cucumber! I'm huffing, puffing, racing heart beats...it was all about to come crashing down! The session introduction is done by the host and we are introduced by our profile sheets...mine obviously been beaten to death by Sharanya's profile! Well...not a good start but nevertheless...scope for improvement!

Sharanya delves into her area of writing passion and moments and Im all awed about her nitty gritty details and so was the crowd...dumbstruck, the crowd applauded her effort and fired a few questions which she dealt with panache and style...smooth as silk. Next on stage...yours truly!

And then it finally began...lights off and the monitor flashes with the title and the slides...I felt like a completely different person on stage than what I was off-stage and it worked! The alter ego funda worked and it was blockbuster! As it continued from slide to slide, it became a dialogue and a story telling session and I could certainly see an engrossed audience...and that pumped me even more! The entire lecture went in full flow and my only message was to inspire and pushing people to write...anything newly written is creative! Mentioned my inspirations and credited my heroes and mentors who helped me get this far...the applause followed and it was music to the ears...it was only then that i realized that it was close to 45 minutes of speaking...a bottle of water to fittingly quench my thirst!

The Q&A session was interesting and was probably the coolest part of it all! That extended to almost another 30 minutes or so and it was just pure fun to answer all sorts of questions ...from personal, tragic, fun, inspirational to instances of truth and dare etc...got a few damsel eyes staring at me as well..it had it all! All inclusive...it was a splendid moment and was worth looking back as a revelation and a turning point for me to say the least! Thanking everyone and urging all to write no matter what comes through in life...picking each moment in life but telling not the obvious...to write with the twists of thought and emotion...

I did receive a memento as a sign of thanks and it was an honor to even be on stage and tell people about my passion for writing...my creative side of life had indeed come full circle and i felt at the top of Maslow's Motivational Theory's Triangle...I'm glad I wasn't booed or thrown rotten eggs at or even criticized...I was certainly humbled by the open audience and the applause was a perfect climax.

For me, it was a 'rockstar' moment in life thus far and for those about to write...I salute you!

Veni, vidi and 12 years to vici...

"Poetry Doesn't Sell"

"Sorry we cant publish your works"

"Its not a lucrative business opportunity"

"It wouldn't work out...we don't sell poetry"

Ive heard it all...on the phone, through letters, through e-mails and on my face...and February is when I drove those demons back to their graves and buried them forever. After persisting and persevering for over 12 years...a dream has come true and will be cherished forever...no matter how small the piece or presence looks in the entire picture...it doesn't matter. This is just the beginning...

Some might think that I might be going overboard with this story...but one shouldn't hide away from the truth...Im laying it bare as is to what the voices in my past have filled my mind and heart with. These are the voices that drove me to bounce back higher and forced them to eat their words. I have never felt so victorious in my entire life than at this moment...what seemed impossible and far-fetched is now tangible and true.

This dream took 12 years to come true (much less than some more deserving poets from pillar to post) and it took much more than I expected from me and I became a better and a stronger person. Good things don't come easy..and this wasn't easy...but at the end...it was the best of things to have ever happened. But the dream took 2 years to come to life after the actual 10 year wait...at that moment it seemed like so near but yet too far. The last mile was painful and miserable, but light at the end of the tunnel...

All credit goes to the team at Prakriti Foundation...but my first thanks in this pursuit would go to Dr. Lakshmi Ravikant who helped me get in touch with them and it was only then that things began to change...began to move...the wheels of fortune began to roll.

The 2007 Poetry with Prakriti Festival was my first gateway to this dream and this was a memorable experience. In 2008, after the first festival got over, the second edition was a promising event and got a lot more response and fervor in the circle and then the announcement was made...an anthology of all the poets with their select works to celebrate its success of the poets and the art of poetry. This was my moment of truth...but this would then take its own twists and turns for 2 long years and taught me the virtue of patience and persistence...

In February 22nd, 2010...the warm applause faded away into an evening that sounded the horns of victory. I sit in my chair and a memory of the last 12 years of my writing rushes through me in images...the founder comes to the podium and reads the introduction a warm applause follows. he then requests each poet to read out their works to showcase them to the press and the public. My turn comes and it takes me a moment to reach there and a deep breath to gather my words...

The book is in my hands and my name and works is in that book...with an ISBN (my first ever)...Poetry with Prakriti 2007 - 2008 is the title...and its pages are fragrant. Amidst some wonderful and awesomely talented poets from all over the country, my name is in that crowd somewhere. I was there...after 12 years or relentless and persistent affair with the art and now it had come boiling down to this glorious moment...and I was soaking in it. The bruises and the scars of the past were now washed away and it felt like a dip in the Holy Ganges...a rebirth.

My turn comes and my speech begins..."this is my first ever publishing effort...with an ISBN and Id like to thank everyone who made it possible...its an amazing feeling to be published along with some awesome poets from all over the country...its an honor. Its taken 12 years but its been worth every effort and drop of blood, sweat and tears. So here I am and a special thanks to my friends who made it to the evening. The poem Im about to recite is dedicated to a friend of mine who was one of my best fans and the silent critics Ive ever had...he'd be scared to even say a word but his silence was my best answer...hes no more now and the poem I'm about to recite was on his favorite themes of Pirates and Adventures...this is dedicated to him. This one is called 'Pirate I am, Aye!'

After moments passed, a drop of tear and a emotional performance...a warm but loud applause from a senior and well-read crowd gave me a feeling that could have never been better. My dad was present and was probably one of his moments of silence but filled with thrill and joy...it was written all over his face and he knew it! Thanked my class teacher and my muse to have got me this far and it was then that I had a breath of relief...that the battle had drawn to a close...victory it was and it tasted sweet.

But somehow, this felt the end of the beginning of the war...more fuel now was added to the fire and a battle cry now turned into a well planned journey. With many more dreams in its cradle, this has now become a journey with a broader perspective and a larger goal. The first battle took 12 years for sure...but the war is far from over...and the darkknight is now looking forward to it.

Dear Meera...if you are reading this, thanks a lot for everything! :)

(Tommie Smith and John Carlos give the Black Power salute at the 1968 Olympics)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1968_Olympics_Black_Power_Salute

My Bloody Valentine!

In the spirit of February being the month of the romantics, I had to pen this true story down. Though we all have our past stories and tales...those that worked and those that didn't, it was probably the most silliest thing that I had ever done. But at the end of it all, it made me feel strong...it made me feel humble, but most importantly, it made me feel that I was in love...such was the plan...such was the story.

At this juncture, I don't remember the day or month but I do remember the year...it was the summer of 2001-02 and I was in my 1st year of B.Com and we had just returned from our District Meet. We made a lot of friends and one mighty impression that wasn't easy to build at that given time. It was in that same Meet in Vizag that I met a very special person for whom...in a very long time I had my heart beating a little faster and deeper. At each others sight, we knew there was something going on, but as lore would rightly play it...she refused to acknowledge it and a scene without dialogues began...nothing was spoken...but a lot was conveyed.

While returning from that trip...I spoke to no one thinking she might never talk to me ever (it didn't happen before that at all). But before we got to our last station...a voice caught my attention and I almost fell to my knees when I turned around to see who it was...it was her. The only thing she asked was for my number and if it was alright to stay in touch (all of us were exchanging numbers because the whole gang was splitting after a 4 day festival). What could have I asked for at that given moment! And we exchanged numbers and stayed in touch...once in a while...Time flowed and due to her restrictions at home, we could only meet in such forums and we did have those eyes and smiles go around and I was in a completely different world of my own.

This time, her college were invited to our institution for an initiative that we were hosting and they agreed. I was completely unaware of this because our seniors were the organizers...so we were just coordinating and helping around. It was a 'Blood Donation Camp' and one of the most faithful and sincere events. I was walking around thinking that I could never donate blood...and I had never done it in my entire life...I was walking around faking that I was sick or that I had recovered from an illness and what not! I also managed to say that I was an alcoholic or an addict. But on that very day, all of it changed...

Guess who came to camp? It was her and she waltzed in like she was dancing on her heels...Oh...that scene! What an entry and my faking turned to freaking! In my heart...the blood pumped faster than I could have imagined...what a moment! She walks in and greets the gang and still hasnt spoken a word or a 'hi' to me yet...I wait for her to near and then it all begins..."So are you donating as well" she popped up the question I was supposed to ask...and within half a second...I replied..."Of Course" and she gave that smile which ringed out loud 'Wow Im impressed and so brave of you!'. Now I was thinking...where did that come from and many of my friends were a little shocked and turned to me (indicating...we will catch up after the event is done and dealt with).

So I walk into the donation room and have a word with the nurse to just check how painful and what not does it feel like when the process happens (all this when she is just about to walk into the room) and the nurse ensures me that its all going to be just fine...somewhere I felt, it wasn't going to be so...

After certain basic questions and tests, I lie on the bed ready to show my veins and before I can notice or prepare the brave look, a drenched cotton bud is on my hands and then the needle shoots through (and it was now that I felt like a first time addict) as the pain kinda got me off guard...she wasn't near the window thankfully...after 5 seconds or so...I saw my life flow out of that tube...it was my blood and it was being taken away! What was I doing???

As minutes passed, I felt a little drowsy and it was then that she waltzed across the window...to see me and my bloody act of courage. It was in that moment, that I had to shoo away my drudgery and show a brave face and a smile to just say...'I'm alright' (which I wasn't)! She looked me in the eye and I felt that I could just keep looking...it was at this moment, the nurse interrupted saying that I had donated enough for the first time! Somehow this fell on her ears and she got hold of it...what now!

I stepped out of the bed and I almost fainted...no one but the nurse saw this (now that you've read this confession) and she was a very kind soul who brought me back on my feet and handed me a box of refreshments and gave a big thanks. In my act of nobility, I did not know how to react and I walked out being a hero and she was there...waiting for me. I held my left hand vein where the needle had its sip and pretending to be a touch painful than usual and she asked if I was ok...oh that question made me feel so better! I said I was fine...but wasn't still but that was ok. She was indeed happy and we had a nice laughter and talk about it and all of that...don't know if she had noticed that by now I was totally in love with her...

She left with no grand promises or anything of that sort that day and my friends had a rowdy time with that incident on that day...but it was all worth it. It takes gutsy efforts and a little bloodshed to seek what you love and this case was quite literal for me...but probably the most bloody romantic moment in my entire life (besides many other attempts). Guess its a part and parcel of life...mistakes and choices that we make and take, makes us who we are doesn't it! And after that day, I have not donated my blood at all...the fear still prevails but the memory still remains...

As for her, shes now happily married an settled elsewhere (with someone else obviously)...but we did share this moment and many more in light conversations...acknowledging each others feelings...but a bit too late for that all.

But to look back and see all of this come to perspective, isn't it true that we do a lot of foolish things when we are in love,coz only fools rush in...don't they! It made me stronger...though the story ended a few years of trials and tribulations...many such things happened after that with many other stories...but this was probably one of the most memorable or perhaps my bloody valentine...

To hold on...try letting go!

A hug can be a sign of love and compassion...but the more you begin to hold on and squeeze and show the next degree of passion, one begins to lose breath. The worse may happen when one may choke and gasp for breath...that's when we realize that you were closer to death than life! This could be at any abstract level and at any level in life and with any relationship one may be in.

A recent incident which I was witnessing between two important people in my life and many instances of many people in and around me...including myself...led me to this conclusion (in MBA jargon...I have done my primary research) that...to hold on, one must at times...let go! You might have come across this quote in some forwarded chain e-mail or a cheesy romantic poster in a gift shop or a greeting card outlet (which is in its dying stages) and dusted it off your shoulder like a bygone cliche.

However cliched I might sound in preaching this quote, I somehow realized that whoever penned that line, did have to go through something or someone in life to actually come up with something of that sort! I also realized that at times, its not only got to do with lovers...but relationships at any angle, level or distance. That's when it stuck me that the same feelings that I have gone through in my past and what all I did to gasp for breath or give the other person a chance to breathe!

Most of us hold reasons citing insecurity or doubt or just pure jealousy or what not! At the end of the deal, until things aren't written on paper or confirmed by oath, nothing can be sure of (Im not debating on that at all here!). But problems when all is said and done...when the unknown becomes the known and the basis of the relationship becomes mundane and predictable. Do we still cling on to our old hopes and fascinations or do we let our love blossom in the freedom of space?

At times, we refuse or argue with our loved ones on taking their chosen paths of their dreams or the risks they have been preparing for ages just because the outcome may hurt them...but for them that pain is not the gain as an ultimate outcome...it is to do what they always wanted to do. What we see as pain for them is a superficial and a scratch on the surface...there is always something deeper and if we tend to appreciate and encourage that, we will eventually lift their spirits and tend to pull them to ourselves and not push them away...which is where my point of hugging and not letting go because they might not come back is all but a belief which can be easily dismantled. No one likes being suffocated...a warm mild hug or wrap around is much comforting that that bear-grip...which might dig deep, hold veins, clot blood and rush a breath or even quicken a beat...

Whatever said and done, wouldn't we feel closer to those who knew our freedom and our choices and let us be but still be in open arms whenever we needed it? If Im asking too much...well, what can I do but hope for the best person to come across then! When kids feel the same as I do, why not when we all grow up to what we become and the values that we begin to follow? Who are we to govern others choices and draw the line for 'them' when they know where to draw their own?

Simple, if we have to live in harmony or in whatever cheesy or corny or cliched term it might sound like, wouldn't we want to live free? Wouldn't we want to do what we feel like...keeping the line of sanity in mind and still return to our havens when we please? I might sound selfish or even judgmental or questionable...but isn't it a thought worth pondering over? Imagine if were holding on to a rope to keep yourself from falling but you feel that same rope slowly slither to your neck, wrapping itself around...the same rope that you held on to your dear life is now the noose calling you to its realm of doom...Im presenting this scene to both the 'ropee' and the 'ropester'! (Ah...the pleasure of poetic license!).

Well, being human, I wouldn't proclaim myself to be able to let go to just hold on...I would have my reservations and evaluate if the risk was worth taking or let the other half decide what was best...ultimately it works mutually and it takes time and effort to reach that level. Simple...it all starts with a conversation...honest and two-way...listening and talking! Sounds so basic and simple...at times which we fail to do this much! Ive seen it happen with my family, friends and foes...all around me! It pains me to see someone unable to chase their dreams just because someone else felt or said that it was too much of a risk or it wasn't worth it at all!

Well, I am writing this today because I have defied statements that have been the noose to me and embraced those who were willing to lift me to a higher plane. Its simple and straight...that to be loved and love, one has to just let go to hold on to what we treasure and label as the most special person.

And since we are mere mortals, please ensure that you do not over-preach and let go that you lose sight...not too far that you run out of the thread to lose your grip on the flamboyant kite that in freedom steers in the skies.

Let it fly...and see it smile in the skies where it belongs. It will return at sunset as long the thread is in your hands and if you've let it fly and let it touch the skies and even race with the birds and have a little chat with the passing sun...

Sometimes I feel like...'Super-Man'

All fans and non-fans might know certain facts about Superman...impossible as they may seem but nevertheless interesting! As one may know, certain super-hero characteristics are derived from basic human abilities and positioned as a super powers to such characters. So what makes me feel like Superman? Read on to know more...

It all began in my school days when I was in Delhi...when I discovered what winters actually were like. Each time in class, when the breaks would arrive, despite the woolens we wore, the guys used to rush out with a war cry which went like "chal dhoop sekte hai yaar"...which literaly means lets soak in the sun friends! At that point of time, coming from Chennai, the best thing to have ever happened to me was the winter (because as one might know, we have 4 summers and the occasional monsoon). The boy who ran away from the sun and at times got baked and cooked up in the sun, was now a fan of the sun...how?

To those who have experienced the legendary Delhi winters wouldn't agree any further...especially when an invisible foggy morning engulfs the entire city and one can actually feel like a walk in the clouds. But what rescues that moment is the invasion of light...the emergence of the sun! In the winters, what gives relief in such a bone chilling moment is indeed...the sun! The sight of light in itself gives the eye a much needed break from darkness and gloom!

But the best part was when the suns rays would just easily caress the frozen and broken skin giving hope to a goose-bumping moment that would arouse even a dead hope...almost erotic! A massage to be quite honest when the muscles and the mind relaxes at such a moment...I didnt feel any better before and this to me was quite a revelation as time passed by! The power of the sun is indeed beyond ones imagination and so can it actually touch us all in such critical moments! To me, it did...

Moments in school with the sunshine during the winters just became an occasion for everyone in the class to exchange a funny moment or two and the entire school would be out soaking in the power of the sun...which brings me now to Superman! The other day at work, I was feeling a bit feverish and a shiver was keeping me chattering for a while...the A/C in the office beat the living hell out of me...but something from my past struck my head as a solution to all the trouble...

Like how Superman would fly to the skies when he was affected by Kryptonite to regain his energy and recharge his powers...I rushed to do the same...ran (though Superman flies) to the open terrace canteen where the sun shone like a diamond...and just stood there...embracing the powers. It was a feeling that took me back to so many years of my antics in school...and it worked! The tingling feeling began right from my neck and gradually flowed from my back, relaxing the muscles and the mind...killing the shivers I had a few minutes back.

It was a magical and powerful moment and what an amazing feeling! Needless to say...a little over-exposure resulted in a slight frying feel and then I felt it was time to rush back to my workstation. But for those few minutes, I got my universal medicine and it was priceless!

The next day...unusually after the sun's treatment, I happened to fall sick and a 2 week bed rest ensued...which is another story altogether...for which I wouldnt blame the sun...but myself! But that is why...not 'everytime'...but sometimes I feel like Superman...

One before the decade...

As a fading note from one of Hans Zimmer's works plays in the background...fireworks light up the end of a new decade and Im staring at my laptop screen...with everyone snoring at the home, I refuse to look out the window to what people believe is the end of a journey and the beginning of another. I look back at the decade thats gone by than just the year thats gone by and I feel...thats quite a lot for about a little more than 2 and a half decades!

I flip through my phonebook trying to call someone desperately and that 'someone' is either not there on that list or names that can wait for the sun to rise...there is no name that can be called now at this dire hour...the turn of a new decade. The only ones I actually call are my best friends and a few cousins. Most friends and acquaintances are either partying or out of their homes...as ever and boring...Im at home as usual (not being the party types). Sigh!

But at that given moment, a sign of emptiness and a little void I must admit. A vacuum that makes me reach out to memories of my past and long for a better future. The present is good but not as better as what it was before...guess at that moment, it feels the same when I was in my past. As one can notice by now, Im mumbling and trying to convey something like Im on a high or partially stoned.

New Year resolutions still had a few minutes for sure, but certain things were already on my mind. 2010 would mark my comeback to writing poetry after more than a year and a half's break. It also marks my venture into the wonderful landscape of Bass Guitaring! Well, all of this looks intimidating but worth locking horns with. What is also looking promising is my fitness rigour and my run at cricket tournaments. Looks exciting for sure.

What looks better I guess is a little soul searching and soul-mate searching in the coming months. My battles with my preferences versus what my folks want and all those family fueds that may arise at the event. Looks like a big family soap opera the way things are coming up...

The advent of such nationalistic politics and aggression has certainly fired up my brains...I see myself certainly going towards the angry-youth-burn-the-town form which is like an avatar of 'Incredible Hulk'. Boy! If things were really like that...imagine what all would be possible! My brain is now ticking...a comic strip coming soon...what say?

I was looking back as to how Ive survived in my life...Ive had say 2 lives...and Im damn lucky to still be alive. There is a birthmark on my neck which signifies my second life...where some sort of Umbilical Chord (correct me if Im wrong here) got wound up my neck when I was being delivered. I did lose my pulse but came back to life in a few moments. The scars that will remind me of how lucky I really am.

Ive been rescued from drowning too! I was at sea in Kuwait when a friend and I had been on this swimming competition and we swam a tad too far. I remember hitting a rock and injuring my toe and in that pain, I lost breath and tempo of my swimming and I gasped for life. A few hand signals to the shore and I see a gentleman swim feverishly to my direction...the next thing I remember was being resuscitated and brought back to life...puking all the sea water out. A relieved but upset mom and dad...not knowing whether to scold me or hold me close. Third time lucky...I survived to see the light of day for the next few decades.

Accidents aplenty...bicycle, scooter, bike, auto-rickshaw...its been a crazy life for sure! my elbows knees are decorated with scars, stitches, cuts and bruises. Ive always been fascinated with glory of war and only then did I realize that most scars aren't memorable especially the ones of war. But being a non-soldier entity, I dint take that very seriously. Macho and muscle was in the air and showing off was all a part of the game...childhood fantasies I say!

The first Gulf War was a strong influence in my life on how I viewed the world on the whole and my beliefs about life in general. Seeing an ugly side of life does influence ones actions and thinking to a great extent and it did so to me for sure. Being an evacuvee in dire circumstances, has certainly prompted me to write a book about this...hopefully make a true story movie for sure...lets see how this one goes...

Been in and out of love so many times that each time I narrate a tale, it sounds like that of a loser and Ive always been a laughing stock or a sorry figure who is still in pursuit of his muse. Much I have learnt relentlessly like a movie is each script. Another movie in the making...hopefully life should come full circle soon!

As one can figure out by now...this being a scrambled article before the decade ends, there is no theme, subject or any direction. I must begin on random scribblings to reduce the burden on my heart, mind and soul to come up with something quick...but figured out, what would the purpose be? A reader must be touched at at least one point...mind, heart, soul or skin. If that has been achieved, then Im not that bad a writer (this would include being a poet or an author).

I look back at the leviathan father time and never ending ticking clock that creeps like a sloth in the dark...realize that its almost 2am...and Im wide awake. The bed is yet to be laid and my dreams are yet to begin and take shape. The last note of Hans Zimmer's work echoes and fades out and I almost crash with a fistful of hopes and handful of dreams. God knows where I am heading...please take me home...


(Note - The painting is by Gustave Caillebotte: "Young Man at His Window" 1875 Oil on canvas 117 x 82 cm Private collection)

Delightful December...

The December of 2009 couldn't have got better at least in the last decade of my life...and what a way to wrap up the decade...in style and in surprising success! To me, this was obviously wasn't easy...time has been a good father and has tested me in ways Id never imagine. It only makes sense that good things finish last and last forever. So here is a short description of how delightful (in many ways) my December was...

A 2 year wait came to a climatic close as the news of my poems inclusion in an anthology was finally being considered for print and publish. This would be the first news in my 12 year writing career that such a dream is coming true. Though the release has been pushed to the next decade, this is a news that any poet can feel elated about. In a world where publishers have shunned me away stating "Poetry Doesn't Sell", Prakriti Foundation has broken that myth for me and have brought this long cherished dream alive. Four of my works will feature in an anthology that will feature some of the most amazing poets from all over the country (those who participated in the 2007-2008 Poetry with Prakriti Festival). This to me will remain in my books, one of the best moments in my life as poet and as a person. Lesson - Persistence Pays!

What followed suit was an out of the world announcement. The US Consulate in collaboration with the Prakriti Foundation decided to give th art of poetry a bigger and probably the biggest stage in the form of the Poetry Slam Festival ( a version of the Brave New Voices). What amazed me even further that when I received an Invite not only to participate in the festival but as one of the featured poet for the event. This shot me through the roof as this was something I wasn't expecting in my life at all and to be a part of Poetry's biggest celebration and performance, was quite an honor. More so ever, the entire event garnered a lot of press coverage and shockingly, there was a life size snap of yours truly with some amazing words written about the event and about the performances. It was my first time on-stage in 10 years as a performing poet...much has changed since then and this time I did well...I could feel it and it has come a long way.

December also got a lot more musical for me personally as I decided to take my year long strumming on my Acoustic to the next level. I finally decided to buy my Electric Bass Guitar...what a defining moment in my life yet again...and an expensive one...but a worthy investment. Any musical investment must be encouraged and is always one of the wisest things to do. The 4 string bass was a beauty the moment I saw her (though i had been researching quite a bit on what to buy but this caught my fascination)...an Ibanez GSR200 Black model. Honestly, in my pursuit to music in life this will stand out as the biggest decisions and one of the best moments that has given me a bit of confidence more than anything else. Its a matter of time now...

What amazed me even more at that time was that my parents officially began their alliance search for my marriage. I found it very funny for a start as they (for a change) spoke of my future as a married man and all of that jazz. It was interesting as I kind of felt good about losing my single-ship and stepping into a more settled form of lifestyle. Online registrations, horoscope exchanges, matching criterion, temple visits, consultations aplenty! Name it and the whole family was into it all. Friends and cousins doing their bit by their usual teasing and kidding and what not! For a change, it was quite a pleasant change from the mundane and routine life that began to set in. Things happen for a good reason Id reckon...guess it was the sign of things to come. It was now only a matter of choice...rather destiny! Love the suspense bit...

A moral victory came through in December in the form of my confirmation in my current organization. This was a critical moment in my life at that stage because this was like a slap in the face of one of my cousin brothers who thought this lad would do nothing without his help! Well cousin...can you feel the heat now! (I had to censor this). I feel so good when I say that and I wouldnt mind saying that publicly because thats how much insult and disgrace he had brought upon me. Guess the best way to reply was by pure action and this confirmation was like a shot in the arm! Toiled hard relentlessly and tested by fire and brimstone...and finally my first victory against all odds.

Chennai had been through a rough dry spell and there was a major lull in the environment. The heat got to all of us and it rained fire in the month of December! But soon it was all gone as Chennai witnessed a relentlessly long-due storm that hit us for almost a fortnight. The sun was nowhere to be seen and it was quite a sight and a time for all of us. The dark skies engulfed like a blanket over the sun and the water ravaged the city like an onslaught. To me it was music to the ears and a portrait to the eyes. Every man-made thing was put to the test of mother nature's fury and we were all at her mercy. Power cuts, cracked roads, overflowing bridges, destroyed fields, closed institutions, umbrella sales...name it and you had it in Chennai...that too in the winter of 2009 December!

What capped the month off finally was quite sportive for both me and the country! Well, honestly Ive improved on my fitness regime in order to compete on a larger field of the game of cricket. Indeed it did take a good shape and I got myself into a good team with a few friends and we also got into a league tournament which saw us take a 3-0 lead in the group play-offs. But what got me really on a high was the fact that India, for the very first time in its history, became the No. 1 Test Playing nation in the world. All first times happen for the first and last times....because after that one has already been a part of that moment and its a matter of history repeating itself. This landmark moment was history itself and I personally was witness to it (amongst billions). To me, test cricket is the toughest form of the game and to be the best nation in the world takes some courage, character and charisma. Under the leadership of Mahendra Singh Dhoni now, we seem to have all this and many more to that list...in fact I wouldnt be surprised if there might be case studies written about him and the team in many a B-School. Such has been the impact of his leadership style at such a young age and hats off to him and all the players that made it possible. Jai Ho!

As one can see it by now, lot of things to celebrate about in this month...personally, professionally, publicly and nationally! 2009 indeed was a rocking year with a few of my favorite metal bands that kickstarted a rocking year and a delightful december to close it all. Hopefully this new year and the new decade brings about all the best things in life...A very happy new year to all the readers and thanks for being such wonderful followers...cheers!



(The image is that of the Winged Victory Princes' Gates at the CNE Grounds in Toronto. For a more interesting reading on the original headless Nike statue at the Louvre, do check out this link -
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winged_Victory_of_Samothrace)

This thing called...

There are a lot of aspects that make us 'human'. It has been proved from ages that our race is a unique blend of certain intangible constructs that seem to go our way in the desparate moments and drives our purose to exist and to survive. The list may seem short to some or long to many...to me its just a handful. All these years of my existence has taught me lessons aplenty relentlessly and time and again, its been the hard way. Yes of course, I have fallen, befallen and arose from the depts to take my life head-on and gave back my fullest to not only survive, but to live to fight another day (many of us have been through the same, so be proud of it). People have viewed me in a lot of lenses and have had their room for passing judgments and freezing on perspectives. It has quite internally been a long waging battle of sorts and it has brought me into many lights and shadows. Such has been my battle filled journey with this thing called...Love!

This has been long due and might just be the right moment to rid this off my rustic brains before it decays into something meaningless and far fetched. In fact, the thought process began quite sometime back but fuelled to be penned down just now, thanks to my status message on my social networking hubs and mail accounts...it stated - "Single, Alone and Bored..." and believe it or not, the reactions and comments I recieved was more than any other statement I have ever made or articles in the past that Ive ever written. Strange, but I liked it when people sounded concerned about the status message...and my status. What one must do to get people talking or just turn their heads...such was this attempt and it worked. The perfect spark to fuel this flame. So...here it is!!!

Its a fun filled article and I am not here to script motherhood statements or the Dos or the Donts or leave a bad taste at the end of it all but will try my best to give that grin at the end of the page which both people In and Out of love wouldn't mind...so there goes my disclaimer or a forewarning...

Lets begin with our school days...when we are at our best in imagination, creativity and visualization...this is probably the only phase where we might have a parallel world where reality is a far fetched dream...where Utopian mindsets are bull-shit. No boundaries and no restrictions... which brings me to Phase I - The Good Old Days of Impossible Infatuations. Anyone would agree that all our innocent feelings and expressions were at its peak during this phase of life and I have gone through it all and quite interestingly found a lot of time for it than what I did in my classroom or for the homework. Early romance was primarily influenced by movies and we know how a romantic story and song sequence worked (and dare not anyone deny) with dream sequences which would have running around trees, two flowers coming together, costume changes, close ups et al. Since no one wanted to be serious in this phase, the chances of having multiple crushes or affairs were quite normal and switches were normal (or I'd reckon...) on the cards. Some would be shocked, surprised and flabbergasted but what the hell...what are friends for! The corridor walks, secret talks, eye to eye looks, compliments, cards, calls and what not! I have been through it all (bet many would have)...ups and downs...one sided, two sided, other sided and no sided. But of it all, on a personal note, I was seen as notorious and friends around me at one point of time hated it...this was the phase I made more foes than friends. In truth, I was trying to deal with myself and got more deeper and deeper...with extreme ends at the stick...with good and bad. There were plenty of fights and conflicts because eventually you are not the only person to like another...many hits on the same target...so that meant wars...in and out of the school compounds. And one can now imagine my plight!

Which brings me to Phase II - The Days of Evergreen and Possible Romance. Here I would describe ones college days (both UG and PG). At the brink of adulthood, the vibrance of youthfulness is what drives us to adventure and escapades (in any given form)...license to thrill and be thrilled. Did we even ever care about the rules...hell no! Recklessness and Rebellious made the emotion of Love quite heartless and soulless...Love suddenly became tangible than immortal. Those who crossed this phase were certainly immortalized but those who couldnt cursed the emotion to the pits. This is the stage wher Love is at a make or break stage...and where people either carry their beliefs or dump it to hell. It was in this stage that I carried my belief ahead and despite setbacks and frequent realizations I felt it hard to stay away and see the world thrive its existence on just Love. It was to me, a universal emotion that keeps us human. Severe criticism was drawn and many critics were turning cynical and abysmall at that phase of life and this also gave birth to many philosophers and poets. I couldnt believe that those who were once wrapped around in the arms of love were forcing their ways out and abusing it to death. I chose not to...as simple as that.

Which finally brings me to Phase III - the beauty of reality and what love is and is not. In this phase, we grow up to become serious beings and life shows us a lot of meaning and purpose at this stage. At this point in life, we witness ourselves in a mad rush of work and in all of this madness, we go through further hell...to be honest, the days of a single story is no more valid or relevant at this time. We question the purpose of our actions in the past and mull over an uncertain future...we analyse our mitakes and feel miserable or feel good if the same story is continuing. We search for greener pastures because it is our desire to feel wanted, loved and needed...humans arent we? Who prefers or likes to be ignored and unwanted? It is in this notion that we never give up our quest for love...cynics become hopefuls and even they consider to change their views to remain relevant. Such is the power of this emotion! I might sound cliched or corny throughout but whatever said and done, no one can run away or hide from this emotion...it is powerful and is felt in all phases of life...young or old and in any form! There are many words to describe, sub-genre and what not! It all boils down to something very basic...that makes us all human!

We might witness Innocent victims and evil perpetrators widely display their actions, intentions and consequences...I honeslty think it is the choices that we make that define us. Blame not the emotion...blame oneself for the choices weve made or pat ourselves on the back to have chosen the best. It is only in our dying moments that we choose to realize...cant that realization come at the death of a story? Why wait for an end of a lifetime to know what you could have done to live another day...live another story? Imagine if we gave it another shot...how many more friends would we have met, how many foes would we have done away with! I have met some of the most amazing people in my life and I have had the priveledge of knowing them in person...Ive met them in the toughest of times and certainly in times where I needed them the most.

Somehow in a rough road trip, where people curse the roads, I relatively chose to go along the bumpy roads and break my will, ego and my heart, only to rise again. I havent succeeded yet but Im enjoying the journey so far. Im not giving up yet and I will not till my last breath. Call me a fool or whatever you want to...just cant let go of (funny) this thing called...Love!



Note - The inserted pic is titled "The Poet and the Muse of the Ideal" by Carlos Schwabe (1877 – 1926). He is one of the more disturbing Symbolist artists. He seems to have had an obsession with death (possibly associated with the demise of a close friend when he was 17), and his paintings often contain allegories of suffering. He also displayed an interest in Decadent literature, and the above pic is an illustration painted by Schwabe for Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal. I somehow felt this relevant to the subject I wrote...symbolically!

Symphony of Suspicion...

Home is where the heart is and home is also where the body, mind and soul is. To me, home has been specifically where the body and mind has been. Sometimes, I like the old un-changed residence that I get stuck to it like glue. I guess thats what most of my tormentors call it a comfort zone. I call them jealous but cant help but think about what they actually meant.

I discovered this pattern quite sometime back and Ive learnt how to deal with it...but above all, the awareness of the same was quite an eye opener. The trend is that if Im told to go to any place or travel to a new city or an unfamiliar location, I would internally feel so intimidated, disturbed, scared and curious and what not! Fear and reluctance would be written so invisibly but for acceptance sake, I would talk myself into it and make it happen. But first Id feel like some evil force has entered my body and is shaking it up like a blender...inside out. I feel like puking and Id suddenly lose my voice or my ability to move my feet. All sorts of non-sensical scenes would come to my mind.

Since most travel schedules were morning flights or night trains, Id have to tag along with my bosses or at times by my own...and that would mean wake hours before schedule so that I dont miss my departure schedule! That would set the tone of the entire journey! My first step of suspicion would begin with my trust of my own timings! Often I would succeed and with the help of my dad, Id beat time...not before I doubt my own abilities! Thats how I actually got myself into doing a lot of self-talk and self-you-can-do-it talking!

Things wouldn't stop there wouldn't they! Once I landed or arrived at any new location, Id always ask every alternate shop, auto driver, bus driver and conductor, citizen and even kids who would know the locality inside out. The best part would be that they would all give me the same and right answers to my redundatn questions often but I would relentlessly pursue to ask more people again in a feeling that Im being duped. Evil or mean you may call it, such was the extent of my suspicion in a new place. My luggage would be stuck to me like glue with my hands doing a frequent frisking to check if every necessary item was in place. I wouldn't spare checking my pocket belongings too for every 5 - 10 minutes. If the place I went to had a language problem, the time interval of checking would be worse...say close to every 2 minutes.

New routes on the bus / cab / auto was another killer! Id have to act as a spy noting every area name and route (a habit Ive developed after watching numerous spy and espionage movies) and mentally or visually memorize the routes. The fear of being lost or confused would keep me in a grim mood and wouldn't let me enjoy the sights. Unpronounceable, Illegible and what not, if the names were not in my terms of clarity or safety, my walking speed and heart beat would match an Usain Bolt's clocking speed on track. Well, no one quite understood why all this happenned...I had to get to the bottom of this issue someday and I actually did! i took me a few minutes and a few memories to grapple with in order to bring some sanity in this madness! To go to the roots of this all, I would narrate 2 incidents that influenced me or rather that inspired me to think this way.

I once was with my parents in a monsterous shopping center in Kuwait and amidst the maddening crowd, I was holding their hands and I was about 6 - 7 years old at that time. In a snap of a moment amidst the turbulent crowd, I was separated from my parents and was literally pushed aside and I lost sight of them. Like being thrown around and circled by, I lost my direction and the location point at where I lost my parents. I ran as fast as I could and at the same rate, my tears were pouring out like never before. I was stuck in a mall which was one of the biggest in the country and I dint know the language nor the locality nor the people. I ran from pillar to post sobbing calling out mom n dad and peeping into each shop to see if I could sight them...but couldn't do so...for about 20 minutes. After almost losing every inch of hope, I entered my favorite store thinking the toys would give me some solace...and to my relief...it did. I found them there...checking out some new Transformers toys which they promised to buy me that day...and I found them at the place which intuitively called me there. I went in running and hugged them both and told them that I almost lost them...much to my surprise, they dint even realize that this all happened because they themselves were awed by the toy store and its new toys which they wanted to buy for me...well...now you can imagine how I freaked out! All was well after that...

The 2nd instance is more fictional but close to what can happen in a war time. Note - 1990-91 was when the first Gulf War had taken place and evacuations were aplenty (a story I will narrate later). I was watching this WWII movie by Speilberg called Empire of the Sun where a young Christian Bale gets separated from his parents and ends up in a Japanese POW Camp and undergoes all the trials and tribulations of a troubled and lost boy. The scenes from the movie were then etched in my mind forever because the war in Kuwait was getting worse by the day and the curfews dint help either. Every time my dad or mom walked out to the stores, I was never sure if they would ever return. Such has been my childhood times and now one can imagine why I feel so when caution is thrown in the winds...quite literally!

When all of this culminates, it sounds like a raucous symphony from all directions, amplified with multiple overtures, motifs et al. that blares my life out in all directions and it is in that moment when I think of home as a safe haven. Known is always limited but the unknown is what at times mystifies me but cautions me. In recent times, Ive been able to do a lot of self-pushing and self-talk and moreover its now more of a conversation. I deal with my own suspicions and have begun to trust the world as it comes by and not rely on my past. If it wasn't for that effort, I wouldn't have visited some major and minor places on the map (with a lot more places on my map to go to).

The dawn of realization actually came to a symphonic climax when after 17 long years after my evacuation from Kuwait in 1991, I made my first overseas trip to Hong Kong. It felt special but again curious of what was to come. When we took off that evening...the only thing I saw was the inviting skies and a carpeted welcome by the musing clouds. I felt I was a part of the skies that engulfed all my doubts...yes, I had grown up then but the child in me was still alive and kicking (which it still does till date...even as I type this). The only way I would have initially felt was to go down or straight up...at that given moment, after a series of thoughtful image filled memory passed my vicinity, I actually felt that the flight was heading nowhere else but straight ahead. It was then that I was done with my symphony of suspicion...It played for so long...and I laid it to rest, forever!

The Rise of the Underground

I was reading an interesting article on WWII where many nations were torn apart, their governments were brought down, history and culture was destroyed, architecture & monuments were razed and what not (the same being mentioned in our history books from start to end...with pictures to back them all up). Such moments in any country's history does breed a lot of hatred and rage that the generation had witnesses and over a period of time, most of it all, culminates into something significant and tangible. This is not a history lesson but 'history' itself in the light of realism...

The concept of "The Underground" literally symbolises a movement or a resistance which is not visible on the surface of any ruling body. This is no book or a refered definition, but an interpretation of my perspective. When I was reading about the Polish Underground State on Wikipedia, what struck me the hardest was that even in dire times like war, was how just a group of individuals could make the biggest difference to their country in the best possible way. When the Germans were on their Blitzkreig mission, they were razing various cities to the ground and that included buildings, museums, schools, churches, books, artifacts, monuments and most importantly...people and their families. At the heart of it all...the roots and the culture was on the verge of a downfall which would have taken centuries to build and establish.

In such critical times, a few inspired (rather enraged) individuals collectively joined hands to survive the ordeal and literally moved into underground makeshift bunkers and corridors. They would help the other survivors move in and would collect all bare necessities and basics to survive the war and the extreme weather. The main intent of creating such bunkers is to evade crossfire and air-raids that bombed cities in pockets. As one can imagine, not all survived it all and not everyone could fit in the bunkers amidst the chaos. It was also used to survive the bitter and cruel winters.

Interestingly, in such movements, there was always an assumed or a looked-up-to leader who would involuntarily take charge but in many cases, democracy was practiced and many people chose their leaders. Under many a leader, these movements and messages would spread rapidly and many revolts and attacks would be carried out on a strategic basis and results were quick and hard fought. That was the strength of an underground movement. Imagine how many lives have been lost and found in such struggles in any given critical moment in a country and its countrymen's lives!

This concept of an underground has spread to many fields and understandably so...the acceptance of the culture openly has resulted in certain Devil's Rejects to find shelter in places away from critics and have a sanctum of their own...by virtue of The Underground. Be it music, art, dance, poetry, technology, religion, sport etc. Whatever has been written off by critics across has certainly gained what the term is called 'Cult Status'. According to me, the world chooses to see what it wants and conveniently dethrones what it cannot withstand or which it cannot call a contemporary or a people-favorite. In the name of business, many a natural talent has been swept to the underground...in the fear of elimination of what already is and has been doing well in their fields.

According to me, if it wasnt for narrow minds, this underground wouldnt have existed. I try to reason this by asking myself, why do human beings become rebels...because in dire times when survival is a matter of life and death, what does one do when the rope is too tight around the neck? Well the answer is simple...do whatever it takes to be free...and live to fight another day! According to me, it is the attitude of this-is-right-this-is-wrong rule setters who create the underground! Let it be...leave them be...Nothing is ours....it will never be...we were born empty handed and we will die empty handed...why write rules and create a rebel in the youth that ends up deep down in underground movements....frustrated and traumatised!

Enough of the rambling...as one can notice...I myself have had a taste of such feelings and though I havent been a part of any underground movements, with the current state of things in our country, I feel one day I will eventually become a part of one. But the best part of todays underground is that they are not afraid...they are fearless and do not hesitate to express their intent. Which is why slowly, certain underground movements have come in the open and is now more visible than ever. Nevertheless, they are but still an integral part of the Underground movement.

But here is the deal...now we are out in the open and we are changing the world for good...the youth of today are on a mission and this according to me is the single biggest underground movement in this history of this planet! This is getting bigger than any living or dead governments and will one day overthrow all written rules and regulations to make this a free world...where there will be no crime, no loopholes, no corruption, no rapes, no murders, no wars, no genocide, no religion, no enemies and no fear (one can add to this wish-list).

It is on that day when those who criticized the world, will need to take shelter from the underground and will eventually have to let them re-write the pages of history. These are certain dark times where heroes arise from the darkest corners to bring light to those who deserve peace and justice ( I know I sound as corny as one can get but what the hell). It is in such times I wait and long for a hero/heroine...who will end all foulness, destroy confusion, destroyer darkness and annihilate ignorance. Does the name 'Kalki' ring a bell?

In all of this, I might receive opposing views and reviews on how Ive positioned this article but does it matter when we there is a living hell that openly slumbers in the belly of the beast?. If we dont deal with this, then what they have accumulated as so called wealth and power will push us to the depths of misery. I am no evangelist, but here I am...calling to all the young and free spirits from the Underground...arise and come to the open and let us all join hands to bring this rusting and decaying world by coloring it right and rescue it from its own downfall...let it not be the fall of another Roman Empire...

PS - All the text written and mentioned above is not directed towards any specific group or movement that exists. This is purely a personal perspective and does not contain any hidden or mis-directed message. However, if one still feels so, then I seriously think that you belong to the government or to the ones they call critics! Have a nice day...