Yes, we know, that you condemn!

Dear Politicians,


A young man stood tall at a crowded bustop
He had cracked it and earned it, his dream job
He felt so proud, this day was great
Just waiting to go home and celebrate


From there at not a faraway place
Walked a pretty girl, full of grace
Swinging happily her wedding shopping
All she wanted now was a diamond ring


A wealthy man sat in a Porsche so fine
Happy about a deal that he had just signed
To leave his mark, to make his name
This he knew was his stairway to fame


Moments later, this street is now a deathbed
The rain water here has turned blood red
I stand here horrified as they die in vain
The big and the small, the once strong men


You will come here soon with your empathy mask
Do you even feel a pinch is what I ask?
And once all your showbiz is over and done
You will wipe their blood with your dirty linen


And say, yes we condemn!


And certainly sometime, not long from now
They will strike back again, someday, somehow
Tear us and kill us and bring us down
From plush gateways to shady downtowns


We aren’t resilient, just lost all hope
Hanging in despair to a broken rope
Not sure if we would live to see tomorrow
Relish our dreams or be buried in sorrow


We will face this all, one more time
Tears would flow for this hideous crime
But all you would say is that you really condemn
And move on as if nothing has changed


But yes, we now know, that you really, really condemn!


Sincerely,
A Survivor

ONE

Fair or dark, eyes blue or brown,

We can look so pretty all the while,

Laugh about and remove your frown,

It’s a question of just ONE smile.

Just ONE spark can do all the work,

Light up and set ablaze the campfire,

Millions of light to drive away the dark,

Just ONE sun can make a day brighter.

The remembrance in the ONE minute silence,

ONE tight hug in despair,

The comfort of ONE quilt to the homeless,

ONE day of fame and fanfare.

The shimmering light of ONE North Star,

On a dark night for a lost boat,

The last ONE man standing in the war,

The election won by just ONE vote.

Long lost friends whom we miss so much,

Seem so far when they are so near,

There are many ways to get back in touch,

It’s a distance of just ONE desire…

Happy Birthday to me !!

I got up today before the sun rose high

I felt that I was on the wrong side of twenty five

My mom hugged me as I rubbed my eyes

She said "I wish you a life kingsize

And I hope that you always keep your dazzling smile

and you spread it across as you walk your miles"

My dad patted me, and wished "Happy Birthday

I wish you all the happiness today and everyday

And ever in this journey should you stumble and fall

I know u will come out unscathed and always stand tall"

My grandmom said that "I hope for you now

that you are always surrounded by people you love

and may you build ties that last for life

tons of hellos without any goodbyes"

My grandpa smiled when i took his blessings -

"I am the oldest and today I tell you this

That though I wish for you all the wisdom

May you in life stay forever young"

My Brother jumped and pulled my cheeks

He got me a cake and wonderful sweets

He said that I was the sweetest sister

and our fun and pranks would last forever

My freinds wished me one by one,

on phone, by message and some in person

I felt so special you made my day

I so wanted it the same way

And as shall pass days months and years,

May be some setbacks, some times of cheer,

I hope all your blessing do come true,

I want this all but not without you !!

Apni toh Pathshaala .. masti ki Pathshaala...

Yes so ‘Pathshaala’ has failed miserably at the box office. It has a descent sound track with Lucky Ali making a powerful comeback with ‘Bekarar’ fitted at the most inappropriate place -when the audience is just waiting to run out of the movie halls. It was almost like that Indian Idol series 1 audition, where participants ran over each other as the gates opened to test their vocal chords, only this time they ran out screaming after watching hours of mindless clatter. For the geeks, like ‘Java’ which spawns many threads for parallel and faster processing; the movie burst out with compounded stories. But looks like the non-techie zero-storyline director forgot to put a thread.stop() leaving many of those threads dangling forever.

But yes, the movie does transcend you on and off to those wonder years, the time of heavier bags but lighter minds, lots of friends and no egos, where teachers probably taught from heart more than book, where going home without a peeled knee or a scratched elbow was a waste of day and many such caressing moments.

The bivouac of school life may have ended but memories linger on forever. OK so the rhyme scheme may have gone for a toss but what the hell.. Cheers to those fun filled days!!

The morning sun rays which used to wake me up,

For the bag to be packed right and to neatly dress up,

To toss and sway the water bottle on the way,

As the school gates opened to a brighter day.

Where we sang the morning prayers in perfect sync

The tune of which still echoes sometime,

The colors we splashed and the stains of the ink

That life was so much in a perfect rhyme.

The spat of the wooden ruler that instilled a fear

There stood our teachers firm but kind,

On a cold day today, I still feel their warmth and care

As I move forward with their faith behind.

The wooden bench on which we carved our names,

Recess fights, dance and song, the mud and the sand,

Peel an elbow, the passion for the games,

Marching in the sun to the school band.

The stories in class we carefully listened

Leapt over fences in the morning sun,

Mischief and fun, got caught and punished

Standing outside the class was a different fun.

With back to the wind we started to grow,

But before we knew, it was time to go,

A fresh course to discover and new paths to be found,

We made place for the new and took memories abound.

But sometimes I wish I could simply rewind

Wake up someday to that old regime…

Live Strong ..

I have learnt how faith can shape my destiny

That it could fritter away under sheer negativity

That success tastes sweeter after a bitter failure

The power of valor needed to beat that fear

That though I looked away too long from a door left ajar

But a start with a small step has helped me come real far

That I got strength sometimes from the unknown

Even when my best ally thrust me alone

That I can wipe my tears if I make someone laugh

And believe that these tough times too shall pass

That there is sparkling steel below every sheen of rust

And marvelous sand dunes form after a storm of dust

That I am never too small to dream high

And aspire to reach to the stars up in the sky

Autobiography of Sachin’s Bat

As they say and I quote, when Sachin plays, men and women, the big and the small in the house finally agree on one – to watch him bat.

This is my tribute to an extra ordinary innings !! Sachin, I bow to thee!!

As we walk down to the crease I hear,

Thousands whistle with vigor and cheer,

For he knows he has promises to keep,

To fly high the flag and live up the dreams.

I can feel the tension as we gear for the challenge,

To get the ball rolling and to set it ablaze,

We need to rock it past the grasslands,

We can do it for sure cause I am in the right hands.

But sometimes I misjudge, I miss a space,

I sway it across but in wrongs ways,

And sometimes I fall short, as hard as I may try,

To reach the crease, as I see the bells fly.

But many times we smack it far,

His talent, his vision, my grip, my power.

I love it when the crowd roars and cheers,

And the man behind the stumps groans with fear.

I sense the liveliness double in the stands,

And drums and trumpets lash out of the bands,

Banners of praise, fun and dance,

To shout and scream they get a chance,

But best of all is when he holds me high,

Looks above and points me to the sky,

And though his friends and foes know there is God above,

They would rather bow down to Sachin for now.

Men are from Mars

This blog is dedicated to my friend. Promises be kept, no names shall be unveiled!! J

So what is it that makes someone say that Men are from Mars?

The other day as I was wrapping up my work in office and one of my friends pinged me on the google messenger. I dreaded that it would be yet another of his cribbing rant and would delay my escape strategy from my 2X2 office cell. I conveniently chose to ignore it for it sometime but the google guys, intelligent that they are, presumed it to be a 'severity 1' issue which needed my immediate attention and decided to highlight it by a bright orange mark on my otherwise blank windows blue screen. To avoid any further speculations I decided to examine it but to my astonishment it just said - “I am so tensed”.

I wondered what the matter was. Past few days had been difficult for him in office. Every presentation that he churned out created magic during meetings. He was the young manager of the company ready to take on new challenges, develop new solutions, and create new perspectives. All he wished for a chance to prove himself. His unbridled enthusiasm was infectious. Then why was he kept out of most meetings, most report work, most conference calls he didn’t know and I wondered too. He was bored and wanted to quit. I wondered if he had caught on with a fight with his boss. Being cornered had made him even more fickle minded. He had once revealed that if it would reach his tipping point, he would just put down his papers. But where would he go he didn’t know.

I frantically typed back to ask but no reply. He had just vanished. I slammed the enter key when it asked me “What do you want the computer to do?” Damn this Windows! It asks the same question over and over again and with newer multiple choices. “Shutdown, log off, standby, restart” – this it asks when I had already declared that I need to “Shut Down” after clicking on the “Start” button – another euphemism. I could have as well pulled off the power cord - skillful entanglement of the cord around my sandal heel and a small jerk – that would put an end to all this irrelevance. But I just let it be.

I rushed out to call him but instead a woman rattled in indecipherable Tamil which seemed to indicate that his cell - a) was switched off b) was out of range c) was busy d) wanted me to dance to his weirdo caller tune before she would allow me to talk.. okay may be not the last one..

What on earth could have happened! I hoped he could be located somewhere. Even in this time of crisis, I carefully hid my id card as I ran across the road to fetch an auto. They seem to have a profession detector which induces them to spell the auto fare proportionately. My trick didn’t work though but nevertheless I boarded the flight err auto...sorry the fare charges always seem to confuse me.

I was almost out of my breath as I climbed over to his place. The door was ajar. He sat there on the sofa with a mystified look staring at the ceiling with the television showing some random channel, or so it seemed to me. The office id was lying below the centre table which I assumed was thrown away so hard that it had gotten to the other side and toppled down. On one side lay a stack of pillows on which he rested his legs. The keys, the laptop, the shoes, everything and anything in that room seemed to be out of place. His eyes were red out of worry& pain of the future that lied ahead.

I didn’t know how to break the silence. When I had finally gotten enough courage and I began to ask, he cut me sharply. “Damn you ignorant lady, you fool, don’t you know!! Fifteen minutes for the day to end and we still need to pull one more down. Else get used to trailing like losers. This is a war and there is no prize for runner ups. Huh!!”

That day I understood two things -

The first being why and why on earth is Cricket called THE religion of India.

And the second being that you guys will be guys…. damn you guys. You are really aliens from Mars!!