As in everything, there is a rhythm that you can only feel, your senses feel it, you know it exists and your hair bristles when you know the moment is upon you. And while you are at it, the very notion that to balance the same you will receive a time which takes a toll and tests you against time, that that too shall also reign on you. Sitting here on this chair with a blue cushion, my thoughts wander, I feel its traces walking across my being; like when you drag a heavy laden bag across those fine desert sands. I wrote this poem when in such a state and that’s where it arises from:
Over the sands & nomadic dunes, I dredge along,
A moving speck leaving a trail behind
All vastness, a pale brown & high above, A calm surround
Not knowing where or why I move
Feeling no sensation below my toes
I see I have walked a mile
The winds play their games, in swirls and mists
Till all the dunes are lost in time
My throat parched, long gone dry
Swollen and fiery, beyond it all
The sweltering heat, never a denial
Beating on my back, a sorrowless creature
As it burns my neck & leaving me weaker
A slow pace is all I muster,
A daze, a shadow, a trance that follows
My mind a dulled numb mass of weight
Just a burden, totally awaste
Slung across, pouch gurgling beside
That is my life, my present divine
Taunting, calling… slushing inside
Each step I take, reminding me
Of the elixir inside
I wait, a little at a time
Knowing it has to last me only a moons time
Back to life & the sweet liquid of desire
But the strength is only because of her
The day is kind for the westerly blows
The scorching sun losing to the time
The worst of times I lay aside
Remembering the oasis & greenery abound
Life! you’ve been an ode to me
As I walk along the sands of time
Free like the wind as it carries away
The granules wiping along my face
the oddities of the present
When people in the middle-east rise up against their regime, its a fight for justice
When the same happens in UK, the same govt that support the people in middle east, jail their own.
When S&P downgrades the US, what makes you sure that S&P wont be hit. I’m surprised, they haven’t found a scapegoat as yet and fired him for it. US influence should have done it by now.
...... & shortly, we’ll see them upgraded again, say a year or two at the most.
Why is it that when the US borrowed, they benefited.
Now that they cant pay, the rest of the world is suffering
Why have the Indians almost accepted Rahul as their future PM – isn’t it supposed to be the biggest democracy in the world. Yet we see almost an acceptance by resignation since nothing against the idea is said.
The world is supposed to be getting smaller by the day, yet the people are growing more apart. Social media is slowly becoming an oxymoron since its not supporting what social is supposed to mean (no, we use virtual intimacy for cognitive dissonance & for our lack of memory capacity only)
When the same happens in UK, the same govt that support the people in middle east, jail their own.
When S&P downgrades the US, what makes you sure that S&P wont be hit. I’m surprised, they haven’t found a scapegoat as yet and fired him for it. US influence should have done it by now.
...... & shortly, we’ll see them upgraded again, say a year or two at the most.
Why is it that when the US borrowed, they benefited.
Now that they cant pay, the rest of the world is suffering
Why have the Indians almost accepted Rahul as their future PM – isn’t it supposed to be the biggest democracy in the world. Yet we see almost an acceptance by resignation since nothing against the idea is said.
The world is supposed to be getting smaller by the day, yet the people are growing more apart. Social media is slowly becoming an oxymoron since its not supporting what social is supposed to mean (no, we use virtual intimacy for cognitive dissonance & for our lack of memory capacity only)
One Straw Revolution ~ Masanobu Fukuoka
An earnest and simple book on natural farming and the power of nature to re-generate itself - one mans observations from living with nature and observing rather than make the soil/ crop live or you.
Would suggest reading the book to remove a few misconceptions we have about farming and nature in general.
Would suggest reading the book to remove a few misconceptions we have about farming and nature in general.
One hundred years of Solitude
My dear Mr. Gabriel Garcia Marquez
I acknowledge and agree with all the reviews made by all these distinguished critics - you have an amazing grasp of vocabulary from which you can bring out the most minute of details and provide it in the most amazing prose. I will go to the extent of even saying that if you were given the chance of writing about a single scene of an Indian picking his nose in the crowded bus stand of an arterial road in a small town, you would be able to write 200 pages for that alone! My good man, please stop going round and round so much entwining each and every detail into so much that your characters in the novel themselves seem to have become dizzy and fallen down! :D
Its definitely an entertaining start but as you go on, its soon becomes a story of nothingness... enjoy it for the way he can twist and provide details... but do beware that you'll grow numb after a certain point in time.
I acknowledge and agree with all the reviews made by all these distinguished critics - you have an amazing grasp of vocabulary from which you can bring out the most minute of details and provide it in the most amazing prose. I will go to the extent of even saying that if you were given the chance of writing about a single scene of an Indian picking his nose in the crowded bus stand of an arterial road in a small town, you would be able to write 200 pages for that alone! My good man, please stop going round and round so much entwining each and every detail into so much that your characters in the novel themselves seem to have become dizzy and fallen down! :D
Its definitely an entertaining start but as you go on, its soon becomes a story of nothingness... enjoy it for the way he can twist and provide details... but do beware that you'll grow numb after a certain point in time.
The time traveler
Over the winds of the artic mist
Beyond the horizons where it meets the shimmering blue,
Rises a streaky sun, all aglow
A life of nature
A life of old
Built along the narrow trails
A green cover not man can take
Wilderness abound & the trees alive
The cries of life all around.
Colours abound, red green & blue
Paradise wild & glorious life,
A cacophony, music only to those
As nature blooms & covers for miles
Gay abandon for life goes on,
To live in the present & the sweet bird songs
As the shades grow darker; fading light
A backdrop in shades of grey
The howl of a lone wolf rings out loud
To thank the gods & life around
As the snow starts slowly to fall over all,
Under the glimmering moon
Floating ice, the rumble of the ancients
A story foretold, with a tongue used ages ago
Long forgotten, in the passage of time.
Shadows in the dark, prowl the night
The wild never sleeps but the eyes betray
The shore washes the floor & covers the night,
A wave to greet, a wave to shatter
A life of nature
A life of old
The light goes bright & fades over glory
The days count out the meaning of life
A lone traveler, for time stands quiet
To watch the fallacy called life
Envious for the vivacity thus is born
A smirk is all he gives away
For in it was born an eternity to grace.
Beyond the horizons where it meets the shimmering blue,
Rises a streaky sun, all aglow
A life of nature
A life of old
Built along the narrow trails
A green cover not man can take
Wilderness abound & the trees alive
The cries of life all around.
Colours abound, red green & blue
Paradise wild & glorious life,
A cacophony, music only to those
As nature blooms & covers for miles
Gay abandon for life goes on,
To live in the present & the sweet bird songs
As the shades grow darker; fading light
A backdrop in shades of grey
The howl of a lone wolf rings out loud
To thank the gods & life around
As the snow starts slowly to fall over all,
Under the glimmering moon
Floating ice, the rumble of the ancients
A story foretold, with a tongue used ages ago
Long forgotten, in the passage of time.
Shadows in the dark, prowl the night
The wild never sleeps but the eyes betray
The shore washes the floor & covers the night,
A wave to greet, a wave to shatter
A life of nature
A life of old
The light goes bright & fades over glory
The days count out the meaning of life
A lone traveler, for time stands quiet
To watch the fallacy called life
Envious for the vivacity thus is born
A smirk is all he gives away
For in it was born an eternity to grace.
Boys
I wrote this in a hurry before the story frizzled out of my head - its in its raw form without any corrections or re-writes to make it beautiful to read - wrote it in one go so please ignore the mistakes -
The incessant coughing woke him up from his hallucinations and he slowly tilted his head to see the dark green stained army overalls and dusty black boots. A smile appeared on the edge of his, “even now, you wake me up with that god awful sneezing.” He went back to their childhood when winters made the cough worse and nights generally meant hot water with menthol and balm. He still smelt the strong smell of the balm when he thought of their mother. Funny how things turn out, he thought.
Slowly without moving his back, he reached out to his backpack and ran his fingers in it till he felt the smooth round steel can and offered it across. “This is as best a remedy as we can have any day, don’t finish it off like you always do, its special, more than 10 years old.” A hand reached out and he got a glimpse of the bent finger he was the cause of god alone knows how long ago,…those were better times, those days they played football the whole day. “Hey A, whatever happened to Ameya? Did you guys get married, I never got the invitation.” the owner of the bent finger whispered out. The crisp English now had a tinge of the middle grounds, the words came out as though almost from the throat, more of a guttural heavy voice, so different from what he could remember. A… A? A & A+...thats what it had been, childish sibling rivalry had sprouted out nick names for them. He was A & the younger fellow just to get onemanship had gone across the house writing A+ across the walls to introduce himself. The thrashing he got from Pa later didn’t matter but the names stuck & they called each other that all through college too. He patted his chest pocket and slowly pulled out a photo with a woman & two boys smiling away at the person taking the photo. They were at a beach & it had been a clear blue day. “Here, Amar is the younger one, on the right; he reminds me of you all the time, the same nautanki, the same smile, he even broke his front tooth last year; almost the same age when you broke yours I think.” The pain that shot up his spine brought tears to his eyes and he barely was able to control the scream that almost escaped his lips.
He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep or what time it was now, the dust had dried on his eyelids and glued them together. He slowly rubbed his eyes, vaguely remembering his dream of Sara. It was always the same, the same smile, the same green salwar and the spot of red that suddenly appeared on her forehead as he stared into her dark brown eyes. The whirlwind that followed, he didn’t care about, all he wanted was revenge. He slowly looked down on and saw that the blood had clotted, the pain in his twisted broken leg had ceased. Amar looked up at the sun and felt its warmth as tears slid down his cheeks. Why… why? What had he done to deserve this, have everything taken away from his life? Sara, Ma…. “Bhai…” he called out and heard no response. Was he asleep? How badly was he injured? How long ago had he seen his face? He had to see him right now. Slowly he shifted himself & felt the pain in his stomach, bent down to straighten the shredded leg. The urge had become too strong, he didn’t feel the pain anymore, he didn’t notice the wound open up. He slowly pulled himself towards his brother, he could see his black shoes and the dust covered camouflage pants. He winced as he felt something scrape out as he dragged himself closer. There he was, looking at him with those soft eyes, those eyes that were so reassuring. As he moved closer, he saw the iron rod and wanted to turn away but couldn’t. The iron rod had pierced his brother close to his lungs and ripped through him almost cutting him into two. A deep sorrow grew within him, the pain felt like it was choking him and he couldn’t get himself to close his brothers eyes. And then he saw the coin in his brothers hand, the Sholay coin which they had melted together one summer break. They had felt invincible then, they had their fate in their own hands with that coin. He wrapped his fingers around the coin and slowly lay down on his brothers lap. He had always been there for him, the elder brother, the loving bhai… and he smiled knowing that he was joining his brother in another world where they would melt coins together again and live their invincible lives together.
The incessant coughing woke him up from his hallucinations and he slowly tilted his head to see the dark green stained army overalls and dusty black boots. A smile appeared on the edge of his, “even now, you wake me up with that god awful sneezing.” He went back to their childhood when winters made the cough worse and nights generally meant hot water with menthol and balm. He still smelt the strong smell of the balm when he thought of their mother. Funny how things turn out, he thought.
Slowly without moving his back, he reached out to his backpack and ran his fingers in it till he felt the smooth round steel can and offered it across. “This is as best a remedy as we can have any day, don’t finish it off like you always do, its special, more than 10 years old.” A hand reached out and he got a glimpse of the bent finger he was the cause of god alone knows how long ago,…those were better times, those days they played football the whole day. “Hey A, whatever happened to Ameya? Did you guys get married, I never got the invitation.” the owner of the bent finger whispered out. The crisp English now had a tinge of the middle grounds, the words came out as though almost from the throat, more of a guttural heavy voice, so different from what he could remember. A… A? A & A+...thats what it had been, childish sibling rivalry had sprouted out nick names for them. He was A & the younger fellow just to get onemanship had gone across the house writing A+ across the walls to introduce himself. The thrashing he got from Pa later didn’t matter but the names stuck & they called each other that all through college too. He patted his chest pocket and slowly pulled out a photo with a woman & two boys smiling away at the person taking the photo. They were at a beach & it had been a clear blue day. “Here, Amar is the younger one, on the right; he reminds me of you all the time, the same nautanki, the same smile, he even broke his front tooth last year; almost the same age when you broke yours I think.” The pain that shot up his spine brought tears to his eyes and he barely was able to control the scream that almost escaped his lips.
He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep or what time it was now, the dust had dried on his eyelids and glued them together. He slowly rubbed his eyes, vaguely remembering his dream of Sara. It was always the same, the same smile, the same green salwar and the spot of red that suddenly appeared on her forehead as he stared into her dark brown eyes. The whirlwind that followed, he didn’t care about, all he wanted was revenge. He slowly looked down on and saw that the blood had clotted, the pain in his twisted broken leg had ceased. Amar looked up at the sun and felt its warmth as tears slid down his cheeks. Why… why? What had he done to deserve this, have everything taken away from his life? Sara, Ma…. “Bhai…” he called out and heard no response. Was he asleep? How badly was he injured? How long ago had he seen his face? He had to see him right now. Slowly he shifted himself & felt the pain in his stomach, bent down to straighten the shredded leg. The urge had become too strong, he didn’t feel the pain anymore, he didn’t notice the wound open up. He slowly pulled himself towards his brother, he could see his black shoes and the dust covered camouflage pants. He winced as he felt something scrape out as he dragged himself closer. There he was, looking at him with those soft eyes, those eyes that were so reassuring. As he moved closer, he saw the iron rod and wanted to turn away but couldn’t. The iron rod had pierced his brother close to his lungs and ripped through him almost cutting him into two. A deep sorrow grew within him, the pain felt like it was choking him and he couldn’t get himself to close his brothers eyes. And then he saw the coin in his brothers hand, the Sholay coin which they had melted together one summer break. They had felt invincible then, they had their fate in their own hands with that coin. He wrapped his fingers around the coin and slowly lay down on his brothers lap. He had always been there for him, the elder brother, the loving bhai… and he smiled knowing that he was joining his brother in another world where they would melt coins together again and live their invincible lives together.
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