Maelstroms of Thoughts

My Dear Professor

2019-05-07T14:05:00.000+02:00

This is not an ode or eulogy. This is just homage to a man without whom I wouldn’t be half of what I am today. Mr. B.S. Bisht, my economics teacher at my school, St. George’s College, passed away last week. I don’t write this with the regret that I never thanked him for all that he had done for me. I did that every single time I saw him. My only regret is that I never got to say goodbye to my beloved teacher, advisor and friend. So, I write this today to keep him alive in my memory and the memory of those who had the privilege and honour of knowing him.

I first met you when you were in your sixties and I was barely six,

Little had we known that our lives would one day come to mix.

The first conversation we ever had was while watching a game of football on the top flat,

You made a friendly bet, and my team lost.

It was years later in class of economics that you called my name,

Asked a question and played a game.

I wish I knew then; the game was the subject you taught.

I lost that too and somehow gained.

You were the first among all, who talked about life,

About politics, philosophy and beyond the textbook row,

You know you dint need to, but we needed to know.

You were the first to show that a knowledgeable man is not a teacher;

To teach is to inspire; to create a passion for learning.

You laughed at those who took notes blindly,

“If you understand what I am saying, why write it down? if not, what’s the point anyway?” you often said kindly.

Everyone in class would listen and learn, not because you threatened to throw us out or mark us absent,

But because learning had never been so much fun.

I almost failed my economics exam,

I know you passed me only because you believed in who I am.

I can never forget you handed me my paper and sarcastically said “Fellow, you have done wonderfully well”.

Ashamed, I had no excuses to sell.

You asked me about my preparation and result in everything else,

Then lightly patted my back and said “If you can achieve this working last minute, just imagine if you worked hard”.

From then till now, I never forget those words.

How could you know and motivate by a simple statement?

Change my life and without a long speech - just reason.

You would walk down with me till the school gate,

To discuss and debate about love and hate.

I hope one day I am able to become a bit like you,

Make a young student feel so loved and special,

And just by that you made me believe in me;

I told myself, my father’s professor is fond of me.

You would ask questions and call students “useless”,

A right answer would earn you the phrase “You are a genius”.

We kept in touch even after school,

Some philosophy, some advice, some sarcasm often came,

But my dear sir, you taught me how to play life’s game.

Ages apart, we were friends first,

Of heartbreaks and friendship, you would hear all my tales,

Meet my friends and offer your experience.

Teach me how to teach and how to learn,

Tell me where my fingers would burn.

Of all I achieved, I came to share,

You looked at me with that age-old sarcastic glare,

And of all the compliments I will ever receive,

Your words are the best compliment I shall forever keep.

“Fellow, you aren’t so useless after all!” is all you said,

And those words made me feel what I had never felt,

The pride of a teacher, the faith repaid,

The prize I won with all the love you gave.

So this one is for my teacher, friend and guide,

To teach like him I will forever strive,

There will be no other just like you,

But by these words,

I will always remember you!

A Letter To Our Daughter

2017-07-06T13:05:00.001+02:00

If we can tell you what fear is,

But not what to fear.

If we can buy open land for you to run,

Than build a house with luxury.

If we can cancel meetings,

To make it for your dance in the rain.

If we can show you the good in the world,

But caution you of the bad,

And then let you experience both,

Trusting you to make the right choice.

If we can let you get hurt,

But be there when you are in pain.

If we can let you love and lose,

And then make you believe in love again.

If we can judge you and your choices,

But restrain ourselves from interfering.

If we can just let you be.

If we can not burden you with our own expectations,

But let you chase your own dreams.

If we can learn from your experiences,

And be friends with your friends.

If we can provide all the comfort,

But not let you take it for granted.

If we can give you a hundred reasons to be there for us when we grow old,

But not to expect you to be.

If we can show you the beauty of creating two homes,

And not just care about us when you are married.

If we can not bind you in traditions,

But make you understand their fragrance.

If we can grieve with you at a loss,

But instill the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

If we can provide you with everything you want,

But remind you to earn it.

If we can buy you new shoes,

But remind you of a man with no feet.

If we can make you believe in your destiny

And the lines on your palms,

Yet show you that even those without hands have a future.

If we can be your friends,

Yet maintain the distance,

If we can earn your respect and affection,

Than demand it.

If we can be all of this and more,

We hope you will enjoy life,

And not just succeed.

We hope you will remember, we tried,

At being good parents,

And may be you will be a proud daughter.

Why Was The Road Not Taken?

2017-07-03T18:51:00.001+02:00

It was one of those late evenings,
When you are tired of the concrete around,
The hollowness of towering skylines.
When you sign out of electronic availability and go to the woods,
The same woods, which throughout childhood had remained lovely, dark and deep.

I wondered whether Dear Robert had thought it through,
Or felt, just as I do, about the road not taken.
Whether taking the one less travelled by was important because it was courageous?
Or because it made him successful?
Or because he just enjoyed being different?
Of all the picture he painted, I wondered if he had succeeded in being successful,
Yet lonely, because of the road he chose.
For only a few took it.

Then what of love? Of relationships? Of family?
The warmth of a conversation with a friend,
The comfort of a hug after a rough day.
Is it so important to take the road less travelled by?
Is it truly success, when all you can do is buy things you don't need, to impress people you don't like?
Are the promises really worth being kept, if there are none to care?
Why go miles before you can sleep, if a dance in the rain can bring you back to life?

May be the road less travelled by, was grassy and wanted wear for a reason.
May be the difference it made, wasn't enough for most people.
May be it isn't so important to be so different,
Fly high above all, achieve every season,
May be it is important to just see the woods,
Lovely, dark and deep,
Tread the road often travelled by,
Without the promises,
The need to succeed.

The Time of Your Life

2015-09-21T16:48:00.001+02:00

One day we will find ourselves between the cross hair of sacred and sin,
Looking back on our lives full of joy, or just an empty din.
We would have walked miles, hand in hand, with our friends,
Wondering if it would have been different, if we would have trusted them.

Some will smile and some will weep,
Some will forever with regret sleep,
Asking themselves if they were really alive,
Or just died everyday hoping to live.

There will come a time, when the judgment will be passed,
With morality and culture, duly sentenced to be thrashed,
For there is no greater sin, than to just do what you feel,
If offends the Gods, because you don't want to kneel.

Days will pass when we question our love, our family, and innermost belief,
We drown in the ocean of betrayal, break the illusion as we hit the reef.
Then we will emerge, cleansed of expectations,
To build a new world, without the sorrow of generations.
We will watch the bird fly, and the apple fall again,
Start a new theory, build a new wishing well.

Such have been the days and such will be the days to come,
Where you give up all you were, pick up who you are, and smile at who you are to become!

Just to Play

2015-08-02T16:13:00.002+02:00

I do not remember the day I was born,

Like most of you, I just remember being warm,

Next to my mother and her fur,

A new life and joy to her.

Then I think you hand a fantasy,

To have me with you, because it was fancy.

They took me away when I was just two months old,

Crying and scared, away from her fur,

I was sold to you, apparently, you were better than her.

I do not deny you pamper me well,

But only when you want to,

When the the clock of life is not ringing its bell,

When it is convenient in your knell.

I am supposed to comfort you when you get lonely,

Just the way I feel without my parents’ company,

And I just expect the same from you,

Foolish me! You only play with me when you want to.

All other times, I should just sit and admire,

Your undying thirst for a worldly desire.

It makes you lonelier, and the more you need me,

For I am your best friend, whether or not I want to be!

You chain and discipline me, I should behave the way you want,

A soldier in your army, obeying your command and what not.

Have you ever wondered if you were taken away;

From your mother – just to play!

Then never given back, because I enjoy being with you,

A toy, a status, a pseudo idea in protecting and loving you.

Have you ever thought when you come home;

I have been lonely,

Dying to be warm with my mom and dad,

But you are tired and I should understand,

Be happy with the left over food you had.

Do not pretend you love me,

It is an insult to love,

To take away a two-month old baby,

Someone’s new born,

Then treat them the way you wish; at your sole pleasure,

And leave them on the street, if you wanted something better.

I hope you don’t ever have to live without your parents,

But I am a dog and who cares about my feelings,

You are human and get to play with someone’s life,

I am a dog, and that ends the matter!

I Wonder...

2015-05-10T16:54:00.000+02:00

When our lives are shaped, not by who we are, but should be.
When corporations make our dreams limitless,
And the means to achieve them limited.
When the meaning of conversation has just become a text,
I wonder if we have progressed.

When soldiers die in the name of patriotism;
Victims of personal ambition, disguised as the political acts of a nation.
A little like Caesar for the people of Rome,
I wonder if have we given democracy or secured dictatorship at home.

When citizens are spied on in the interest of national security,
And killed in the name of religion.
Where history is modified to justify genocide,
And children are bombed to wipe out terror,
I wonder why God brought us here.

When relationships are calculated,
And business is about relationships.
I wonder what is success,
A true sense of achievement.
Where intelligence alone is not enough and we seek more,
A trip to Mars and space cars,
When we can't even put the real criminals behind bars,
We want life on a new planet; a new hell beyond the stars.

When a tragedy is just a statistic,
Our false sense of pride,
In a fake donation list.
When love is an emoticon,
Thrown away at a different song.
When our sadness is filtered by apps,
And happiness fails to relapse.
When we are so busy competing for a destination,
We forget the journey,
And just wait for the station.

Where the freedom to be yourself is so despised,
That we wear slave uniforms,
And celebrate adult franchise.
Where the oceans are wet with cries from within,
Stop spilling in the water, it's choking them thin.

When the media is just a pawn,
Bought and sold before each dawn.
I wonder what you hear is all the news,
Or just propaganda in their views.

Where trees are cut to make our homes,
Much like the women raped to satisfy hormones,
I wonder if this is all we got,
Humanity, thy name we forgot!

Freedom

2015-04-20T11:04:00.000+02:00

It has been some time now,

Since it first flew,

White wings, spread out against the blue sky,

Freedom beyond, the chains broken.

It is difficult to understand,

Why one would take to a cage?

When it could fly free.

Roam the world none have ever seen,

Yet it chose four corners,

A sense of comfort?

Or the idea of a home?

But only humans like corners,

The birds care about the warmth,

Not the location or shape.

It chose chains every time the door was open,

Teaching me, that freedom too was not black and white,

That freedom too, was just another perspective.

Lying low, mute to its true calling,

It chose what others value little.

But then again, the others were human,

Caged in the idea of their freedom,

Slave to their religion, technology and wants.

They often wondered why it never flew,

Became what it was supposed to,

Did someone ruin its younger years?

Or did it realize what the world holds beyond?

It guarded within the spirit of free air,

The same free spirit the humans yearn for,

A spirit unconstrained by money and possessions,

A spirit wild and carefree.

Is it possible it knew why the air hurt?

And that the promise was just an illusion

Or did it know that flying to nowhere is not always a destination.

Yet now, it decided to fly.

What changed? The wisdom redefined,

Or the innocence finally lost?

It tried to become what humans thought it was,

A bird born to scale the sky,

But it did not think it couldn’t,

The day it needed to.

Could it really be, that it became human?

Climbing, when it could fly,

Walking, when it could glide,

Full of desires, yet in the same place.

The freedom hasn’t changed,

The cage still the same,

It wants to scale the sky once more,

Chase the human dreams,

But like they get to know,

The bird too has realized,

It has been years now, since it first flew,

May be for the last time.

Being One

2014-06-22T14:18:00.001+02:00

For all we humans are but the same,

We need food, shelter and light.

To live this holy life we got,

Sleep peacefully at night.

But then I think of why we try,

To be different in our deeds.

If all of us are just the same,

And need the things we need,

Then aren't we one as we breathe?

How everyday we try to succeed,

At succeeding to differentiate,

For a king is different from the common folk,

He eats in plates of gold and sleeps on fine oak.

The boss is different from his workers too,

He dresses in Armani and drives a BMW.

The lady across has jewellery worth a house,

The little girl has a pink flower drawn on her blouse.

The man with money will buy things that separate,

Him from his friends, the same people with whom he ate.

He will look down upon what they couldn’t be,

His expensive watch and shoes to see.

But all these people believe in being one,

Attending a charity night, giving out to the nuns.

But as they approach the stand to give,

Dressed in brands the little ones can't spell,

Do they not tell the world, they want to be distinguished,

With their brands, money, and status symbols.

All these people are liberal at heart,

No race, no color, no discrimination to start.

But I ask myself as I sit amidst it all,

In a world where success means to stand-out,

With symbols and power that shout itself proud,

Do we really believe when we look at the sun,

Through Ray-Ban shades, that we are all but one?

The Golden Word

2014-05-11T11:54:00.001+02:00

Is it magical?

One word that all of us know,

That brings us alive,

That how many times we’ve repeated;

We don’t know.

Whenever we fall down,

Whenever we pray,

When we cry out loud,

Or sing in joy,

When fears turn towards us,

And strength we need,

Why do we think of none but one?

No other word but you.

The way you wrap us in your arms,

Hold us tight,

Protect us from dangers our infancy does not know,

The way you smile seeing us smile,

And wipe every little tear we cry,

The way you teach us to walk,

And if we fall,

None but you we call.

Why it seems to be the ultimate healer,

Our reason to smile, our pillar of support,

Our hope in dark days,

Why is it we think of none but you?

Every time we lose or cry,

Every time we go wrong or need another try.

You are all that we ever need,

The one we look up to,

You are a magician that fills all our dreams,

And somehow you don’t know,

All that you do for us,

We convey it all the time,

Every time we think of you,

Every time we say the golden word,

Every time we say "Mom".

A Reason to Live

2014-01-15T15:56:00.000+01:00

It was a moment now, and a moment back then,

When I wondered how we started, and how we would end.

Like the seed to a shrub, and then to a tree,

Flocked with leaves and fruit.

Then the seasons change and it will all disappear,

As quickly as lighting would.

For many condemn the cold,

The barren trees and frozen road.

For who finds joy in dull and grey,

The sadness of a gloomy day.

I look at a tree outside,

The way its stood for years without reason,

And wonder what it thinks of love, betrayal and treason.

It does not matter where it has been or will go,

But it knows the seasons will change,

And it will get another chance to show,

Its green leaves, its juicy fruit,

Its warmth to a nest of leaves.

For people speak now of why they should,

Look for reasons, wishing they could,

Finding a new life and live it all,

For this one is just too small.

I look at the tree and what it thinks,

Of life and its meaning,

Of freedom and chains,

Of finding happiness or the right kind of gains.

Does it matter to it that it does not move,

Or can't express the pain of a bruise.

His friends are those, that give him company,

The feather filled friends chirping in harmony,

But only on sunny days, when all is well,

Never in the winter - the lonely days of hell.

Must it not be sad, with a life so dull and all the same,

No identity, no name,

No changing places, nothing to achieve,

No worries about money, no expensive needs.

I think how sad it is for the tree,

A life so boring and without reason,

Just adapting to every season.

Just then a wind shakes it up,

Nothing to lose in the winter, its already stripped enough,

May be you cannot take away, what is firm within,

The rest does not matter, it is an empty din.

From the tree I learnt what matters most,

The hope for a future, the patience to change,

For no one to life can dictate,

The way to make them happy, or adjust its pace.

The tree stands tall, fighting it through,

The cold winds, the frost and dew.

It has no purpose, no greater calling,

Yet many run around it every day,

Searching endlessly for a better way,

For a newer promise of something to give,

While the tree does not need a reason to live.

The Man with the Book

2013-12-28T12:09:00.000+01:00

A lady walking with grace and poise,

On a clear autumn night, listening to the winds noise.

She settles down to find some peace,

At a café full of people with the night breeze.

A smile on her lips, eyes that weep.

A little shy, a little nervous too,

Cautious, yet not cold within,

A beauty someone failed to keep.

For someone did not treat her well,

She wonders why open up again,

No man deserves the gracious treasure,

A heart so pure without a measure.

The day brings on her cheerful smile,

From one day to another, a different style.

The night scares her and brings to the fore,

The weight of a past, her wounds too sore.

She lifts her eyes, and morning shines,

A bit of pain in those pretty eyes.

She fears God, but trusts him too,

A little old school, a little new.

As she sat down to find herself,

She looked at a table and the books on the shelf,

She wondered why she couldn't be with someone that night,

Someone to love and treat her right.

Just as she took the chair,

She looked at a man with a coffee beside,

Pretending to read his book,

Saving his wounded pride.

Something happened, she doesn't remember,

A bit of instinct, a bit of surrender,

She felt she had found the one,

But dint know if he was with someone.

She gazes hard, and looks all around,

For a clue about him, for some sort of sign,

Whether he would look at her,

And this was meant by the divine.

Her sores she tries hard to nurse,

The silly damsel, only burns.

For what she seeks to change,

Cannot vanish; but only re-arrange.

She forgets one cannot undo the past,

Nor change her story, or the cast,

Yet one day will come and all would be well,

She would have a happy tale to tell.

So she hopes and prays that day,

That the man with book could be swayed her way.

One couldn't pass her by without another look,

But she is saving her glance, for the one with the book.

She yearns for him to see,

The purity she so carefully hides,

Lovingly would she take your hands,

If lovingly would you be at her side.

She wonders why the man would look at her,

Walk with her till life's sun goes down,

She thinks he deserves much better,

Some pretty lady in an expensive gown.

All around are staring at her,

She shifts and wonders what is wrong,

And just when she is about to leave,

She gets a look from her man beyond.

Just a gaze and she forgets the rest,

Ready to hold him and be the bride,

Then quickly gets up,

Scared of the hurt inside,

Take the chance, or just run away and hide.

Before she leaves and walks away,

The man gets up and asks her to stay,

Between love and fear caught,

Her eyes have tears,

Her heart besought.

Another risk; just more pain,

Or a lifetime of healing,

She doesn't know its name.

She found herself on a clear autumn night,

Amidst the eyes and the fright.

She smiles now beneath the moon,

And tells a story of her lonely walk,

When she had been torn by a crook,

And she met her man with the book.

In the house of God

2013-12-23T22:20:00.000+01:00

I was in your house,

And wondered what made it home?

Why, like family, these people flock;

Yet between them, no family talk.

With their heads low,

And their spirits high,

To cleanse been brought,

I wonder, their deeds or thought?

Who knows when you would show up to save us all,

But we should be prepared for you with a glamorous hall,

Deck you with gold and offer you a crown,

And chant your name out, real loud,

Till the cries of the needy drown.

Are you pompous or greedy, or a bit of both?

Sometimes gold, sometimes sacrifice is owed.

So did you create us to worship you and pray,

Or enjoy your creation, the fruits you gave?

It seems you are so much in love with yourself,

That you need statutes and monuments made.

And only then, only to those will you respond,

Who have the feet to enter your house and offerings to bond.

I hear, you are my guide and friend,

But only if I follow your terms and bend,

Pray endlessly, and worship till the end.

As a friend, can I not lovingly call you something new?

To show affection, how the faith grew?

If your rules called rituals are the only path,

I haven’t heard of a shallower friendship,

Nor more ego than a human hath.

If I call you by a name you call yourself not,

Will you damn me then and throw me in hell?

Or have me persecuted here by your guards who dwell.

Is the death of your children all you want?

Your guardians swear to protect and save,

In your name take each other to their grave?

For the worst may befall, if I don’t follow,

Your rules and rituals, the dance so hollow.

The blind support, the coward's call,

Let us murder those who will not bend and fall.

So true and mighty high you are,

To slave your creation like a puppet star.

How are you different then, from the people below?

Nothing but materialistic, shallow and low.

For you we must bleed, till your wants fulfill,

But our fellows should die hungry and ill.

Will you only hear those who think of you day and night?

Or those who acknowledge your shining light?

But what of those who put in faith in what you built?

Caring for others, without a religious will?

Is there no room for people to love;

Without the threat, of heaven and hell above?

Can we not just be and enjoy our days,

Without the self-sacrifice and worship ways?

Can we not love those who call you differently,

Or must we feel with your name only?

Are you mine only if I don’t eat and drink forbidden things,

Each day get you a large offering?

Or do you love as a God should,

Without any wants, without anything to bring?

I heard in your house, the bells ring loud,

The prayers bring peace to the crowd.

I wonder why my home is too small,

For you to grant peace,

To answer my sincere call.

An Ode To Berlin

2013-11-04T12:21:00.000+01:00

A reflection of a visit to Berlin last week:

What cities give and what they take;
Each road and rock of break and make;
Where silence lasts with roaring rage;
And a lasting shadow of a man disgraced.

Where the light outside was dark;
And within the hope of freedom lay.
A place where ideas were murdered;
And obedience paid.

Like the ups and downs of the seasons' sun,
The innocent did not find a sheltering place.
For shelter needs means;
Those, your genes forbade.

So what to look for in a place so rich;
To dig deep and find the dirt;
Or see the shine, the men and women have churned.
What a city tells you, is what you hear;
Whether it broke the people; or had them made.

The Truth In Our Lies

2013-10-07T00:08:00.000+02:00

The poem represents a kaleidoscope of the struggles and strife that go on each day within every individual and makes an attempt to juxtapose them to world events marking similarities or differences in the two:

There is a moment of truth in all our lies;

A silent hope; in all our cries.

There is some trust in promises we break;

Some faith in homes we make.

There is some anguish in an old tree,

Some chains, a bird sets free.

There is more to us when fears are bold;

Much like a story each one has never told.

There is solemn grace in a broken a smile;

A happier place within a mile;

But who would leave the corner stone;

Of a house full of fears into the unknown.

We seem to run from what is inside;

In the hands of shimmering figures, place our entire lives.

There are decisions one takes once and for all;

Then questions the hour glass as the sand falls.

There is on old man who watches too keen;

The trouble of our souls; the dreams not clean.

His hair turns white; like promises fade;

The world seems a much more horrid place.

A bomb goes off and thousands die,

The Gods on earth make a religious cry.

You wonder will it ever end;

The madness in calling each other friends.

S.O.S - Blackberry

2012-05-06T15:09:00.000+02:00

That Research in Motion (RIM) has hit an iceberg and is sinking faster than the Titanic is a known fact. Amidst all the desperate tries to save the once grand and unsinkable RIM, is an S.O.S. call to the companies' finest. The S.O.S called Blackberry 10. Recently, RIM launched the prototype of the Blackberry 10; all touch, the screening appearing to have tiles similar to those of the Microsoft OS. Whatever they have come with to battle the i-phone and the android devices did not seem to convince investors as RIM's value dropped despite the launch of the prototype.

Like many theories that have been propounded on how the Titanic could have been saved, here is mine to save what was once the symbol of security and reliability in telecommunication. Let us look back 5 years and reflect on why it made sense to have a Blackberry. Clearly, you don't remember. Blackberry's then were only for the business class, the rich and powerful who turned around billions over emails. They carried an ugly looking small version of a hammer, or a stone with keys enough to kill someone with a blow to the head, and yet many looked on, wondering whether they will ever get there.

Let us now look back 2 years; blackberry plans have become pre-paid, the device much sleeker and less expensive, and the magic days of short-message-service (SMS) are waning. Everyone now wants a blackberry. The question is why? Why have the "Blackberry Boys" been taken out of their exclusive league? The answers are many and each one drives home what the S.O.S to the companies' thinkers should be:

1. The average college going kid required to check his email. For parties around town, to fetch the facebook updates on email, and somewhere in all the fun get to know what materials have been sent for tomorrows class, or whether it has been cancelled. Coupled with this was the sudden craze of sharing everything, a status, a picture, a voice note, and the unheard of, a 'read message' notification. In all this frenzy came along the sync with Gmail and the result was mind-blowing. No need for backups, lost numbers, messages, calendars; one device could get your whole world into your palm.

2. The business man: well for those who understand why a Blackberry is important to business this may sound too brief, but for the uninitiated, emails with projects, deadlines, updates, marking your boss, your team from wherever you are, downloading attachments and keeping in touch with colleagues over BBM made the world a different place to do business in.

3. The employers chose Blackberry for their reliability, security and the all important real time push email service. Enterprise servers could be setup, mails could be traced, tracked, locked etc.

Everything was going all well and the folks on board the Titanic were having a good time, when the iceberg called the i-phone hit and made history. Numerous solutions have been offered to how RIM can be turned around, how Blackberry has lost its appeal to the customers. In my view, its because RIM is trying to be what it is not.

What Blackberry 10 ought to do is focus on how it started, to the crowd it mattered and that will get it right for everyone else. First and foremost, we want a blackberry for our emails. A device which can delivers to us our precious updates, projects, attachments etc, effortlessly and control our mailboxes. So what is missing then? The ability to file them to folders, use labels, auto detect email address and separate the business from the personal. A better remote search for the emails and apps that can help edit the attachments on the go.

Having used a galaxy note for a few months and of and on friends' i-phone and all the gadgets I realize that all the pomp and show fades soon and all you want to do is answer calls, send text messages quickly, get your mail and be in touch with friends over a chat service. The rest is like a statute in built in honour, launched with ceremony and flamboyance only to be walked past the people not knowing whose statute it is. Ask yourself have you ever tried to voice command your phone to find a burger place while you are in your office? You would seem stupid in front of people talking to your phone ordering it to call "Shyam" when it refuses to recognize your accent. Tell me truly how many videos would you like to watch on a hand held device while you are at home with the luxury of watching it on your larger laptop screen or television. For the voracious readers, unless you are frequent traveler, causing strain to your eyes and neck isn't exactly the fun of reading (I understand that many would disagree with this).

So what Blackberry ought to do is focus on building a smartphone which will ease communication and give the option of entertainment freaks a larger screen to watch a movie or play a game. Apart from that, it should just be a phone with excellent battery life, better network coverage, faster browsing, wifi capabilities and more importantly the ability to organize and differentiate personal from business. Add to that the ever so awesome BBM. I am one of those who believes RIM could save itself by making its platform open source, but apart from that just the assurance that a message on BBM would deliver the world over in a split second is more than the assurance I demand from my cell phone.

For the ever customized needs, let apps do the trick, allow plug-ins, but what I really do not want, is another i-phone or galaxy under the Blackberry brand, because that is not why I would buy it. I would buy it for a sleek design, packed with performance and the ease of tailoring it to my needs. I just need my emails and browsing, safe and secure with the ability to chat without interruptions and my device being able to sync all my accounts, calendars and activities into one.

I think in the mad gadget race with features, to be a long time winner, all Blackberry has to do is keep it simple.

The Hazare Phenomenon

2011-08-20T07:40:00.006+02:00

Much has been said, debated, and concluded about the Civil Disobedience Movement, 2011 (as some tout it). The cause is undoubtedly noble and rather imperative but the larger question is: can we subvert the Indian Constitution and hold the supreme law making body to ransom at the threat of fasts and law and order problems?

The Indian Constitution envisages a supreme rule making body i.e. the Parliament. Representatives are democratically elected (fools or not, we are to blame for voting them into power) and given the responsibility of enacting new laws after due debate and discussion in the Parliament. Now lets assume, a radical party and its leader tell the government to ban girls and boys holding hands else they will go on a fast unto death and the government starts discussing a bill with them. Now they decide that they will not budge until the bill they have drafted is passed. What would your reaction be?

The present situation is not very different, only the cause a lot more real and necessary. Without questioning the high moral ground of the cause, how is Team Anna not mocking the Constitution? Today Team Anna, tomorrow Team XYZ with their demands, should the Government bend and allow all those laws to be passed which have been drafted with a threat of causing law and order problems and someone dying because of a fast? Yes, we do need awareness and need to stop corruption, but not at the cost of hijacking the process enshrined in our Constitution.

The Hazare Phenomenon has undoubtedly gathered the storm for this nation to debate and resolve this issue seriously, and my greatest respect to Mr. Anna Hazare for that, but his cause is misdirected for many reasons:-

(a) When Gandhi started the Civil Disobedience Movement, there was an immediate solution in sight i.e. the return of the British from India to England and the handing back of power. Corruption on the other hand is part of a vicious circle of population, poverty, and unemployment. Sitting on a fast is not going to make it vanish over night.

(b) The reason corruption and many other evils escape law enforcement is because we have the best of legislations, the best Constitution but weak enforcement mechanisms. The police cannot act because they are puppets of their State Governments, the CBI of the Central Government. For example, the Narcotic Drugs a Psychotropic Substance Act, 1985 (NDPS) is one of the most strict legislations criminalizing even the mere possession of a banned substance, lets ask ourselves, has the drug problem gone away? A strong Lok Pal Bill is not the solution to our woes, its separating our enforcement agencies from bureaucratic and political forces which misuse them for their selfish reasons. The law itself might have teeth, but it actually needs to bite to be effective!

(c) Police reforms, speedier justice, accountability of the judiciary and the media are what is required to achieve our short term goal of reducing corruption. The long term goal being less population, poverty and unemployment. What incentive does a constable have to do his duty diligently? When they catch us violating traffic norms, we are the first ones to either call our "God Fathers" or pull out our wallets. Why should that constable do his job and get scolded by our "God Father". He'd much rather take the money and buy another fan for his children who stay in a government quarter the size of our kitchens. Unless, the right incentives are provided to the enforcement agencies, unless they are given due security of their jobs from the whims and fancies of people in power no legislation is going to make a difference.

(d) Team Anna also wants the judiciary to be under the scanner of the Lok Pal. Either the Gandhian has failed to understand the structure and values of our Constitution or he wants to define a new basic structure for it. How can the supreme guardians of the law be subject to a Lok Pal who is not even the same rank and profile as them? Its against basic protocol and respect for the office of a judge! The Judicial Officers Accountability Act is a much better and saner solution adhering to our basic structure enshrined in the Constitution. The impeachment of justice Sen by the Rajya Sabha stands testament to the powers already vested in the law for removing corruption and erring officers.

One of the many reasons that provoked this article was the hysteria over a new political leader. My concern is simply this: will Anna Hazare take responsibility if things get violent or out of control? Can Team Anna provide the solution to that constable who gets fried in the sun for doing is job and then is told to let offender go and return home to spend the night with his family in cabin? Can a Lok Pal Bill change all that, can it alter the reason why people go down the road of corruption?

By no means and in any sense I am defending those who are corrupt, but I genuinely feel that many tread that path not out of choice but necessity. "In Rome, do what the Romans do". We live in a system which forces us to these things simply because we do not have things like social security, a minimum standards of living for government servants (especially in the lower strata). These problems need to be addressed before we can wipe out or reduce corruption, the solution lies in a bottom to top approach and not the other way round. Putting the Prime Minister or the Chief Justice of India under the scanner of the Lok Pal will not ensure that our dear constable on the street does not take a bribe.

Someone Fell

2011-08-10T17:22:00.003+02:00

Often the world would laugh it well,

Finding it embarrassing that someone fell.

But what really eats up a man inside;

Only a broken heart can tell.

What burns inside; that fathoms not,

No consoling this wounded pride he got.

In silent moans, the roaring rage;

In memories past, life is caged.

When breathing hard amidst it all,

He thinks of a future with a hopefull call;

What matters most he humbly hides;

Twisting and turning in anguish lies.

And what to tell of life's disgrace,

Moments when loved ones slapped his face.

Trust and love too beyond him now,

He carries on just somehow.

And when in silence you feel a breeze,

A little moist, with dampened leaves,

Remember that someone shed a tear,

When it became too hard for him to bear.

And those who laugh at a fall,

Don't really know the cause of it all!

The Frost

2011-01-23T09:41:00.002+01:00

All lost, all lost;

To that terrible frost,

Which froze those leaves in the wind,

That cool breeze after a warm day.

In the myriads of questions,

Some close, some far;

It froze those too,

Which were dearer than the heart.

No drops of rain,

No heat from the sun,

No childish play,

That was so much fun.

And out of the blue,

Like the morning dew,

It came from somewhere,

To stop all we do.

No sign of pain,

No thrill in joy,

No broken heart at a lost toy,

The frost, they say, had bit us cold,

Away from all we love to hold.

The morning sun,

The need for care,

All lost somewhere,

And left us bare.

It beats, yes, everday,

For whom or what,

It doesn’t say.

Some memories down the trodden lane,

The frost, they say, took all the pain.

All the joy & all things gay,

It bit us cold,

That is all they say!

A Place of No Return

2010-12-13T20:58:00.004+01:00

From where I began to where I am now;

What has changed?

What has gone and what has come?

What has ended from where it had begun?

From nowhere to nothing have I reached,

From dust to dust remained.

Time has traveled distance,

Moments and memories too,

But something has remained; the way it’s supposed to.

I’ve looked all around, to where I should go?

No clue, no sign nor feeling have I to lead me so,

The stars foretell a future, a destiny I read not,

My hand has lines that lead to where, I still doubt.

There’s something dying within;

Whose saving drug ain’t there,

Life’s battles are at hand,

And neither my sergeants nor soldiers there.

Fears are freezing and may be emotions go

But things have to go on,

Why, is not for me to know.

The trees have withered leaves,

The spring has them returned,

People have lost feelings,

Love has got them back unturned.

Nightmares have turned real,

Dreams are still dreaming,

What was expected to stay has gone,

What had to go; lived on.

Breakable threads have relations joined,

Broken promises stayed in mind.

No roads have changed, no paths have turned,

May be I’ve trod too far; to a place of no return.

When You Wonder What Life Is

2010-11-15T06:25:00.007+01:00

Once u know what life is,

You wonder if you've lived it.

Experienced the dew drops sprinkle,

Seen those tiny shining things at night twinkle.

You wonder if you've felt the river gush at you,

Fighting against brought out the soldier in you.

Have u played with beetles and caught them in jars?

Seen the winter frost change colour of cars.

Have u ever heard the spooky roar of the tiger on the hill?

Fallen down in ditches nature missed to fill.

Have u ever gone beneath the sea and looked at the sun?

Screamed your name to hear echoes from the Holy one.

Have u ever climbed a mountain and stood at the top?

Feeling the world in your hands, like a globe as a prop.

Have u ever heard the screaming silence of the valley?

The soft breeze; like a mother's touch, caring dearly.

Have ever seen a new born smile?

In a single moment chase your fears for miles,

Have you ever looked at the sky above?

Wondering what if you were a bird,

Have you ever felt the rains drops on your face?

The fragrance of a shower on the mud of the earth's furnace,

Have you ever lived life as light as a feather?

Not wondering where to go, yet with someone forever.

Have you ever wondered what life is?

And once you've thought about things big & small,

You look back;

Have I lived it at all?

That Inward Crying

2010-09-18T08:45:00.000+02:00

The blades of betrayal you thrust inside,
Twisting them to make you bleed,
Too used to the pain,
You turn & turn,
Not numb enough to let you sleep.

Your veins wreck,
The gust too strong,
The tears roll,
But not for long.

You twist & turn,
The hole too deep,
The blood flows,
But you don't weep.

Nothing left to cut you more,
The blades too blunt,
The wounds too sore.
No tears now,
No blood left to fall,
Just that inward crying,
The sharpest pain of them all.

Pursuit of Happiness

2010-09-10T18:21:00.004+02:00

It is really common to hear that people are depressed or frustrated. Ask them why? and they would not know. This post is neither an answer to the problems nor a spiritual path to happiness, it is nothing more than an introspection:

We are often, consciously or unconsciously, governed by what the world thinks, what people have to say. Invariably we are brought up being told that we should study because our neighbour's son/daughter studies or studied and did well in life. Our sense of morality, success and failure are bent to understand that the opinions of everyone else are superior to ours, and they are the conclusive test of what we are in life.

Slowly, our own sense of thought, logic, morality, happiness, start to become what is thrust upon us by a collective whose identity is impossible to establish. Curiously enough, this collective comprises individuals whose idea of morality etc. is totally different from the community standards they project. My point, in summary, being that we live our lives the way 'they' want us to live it.

Day in and day out, our choices are determined by what people will say or what they will do. My question is: your life, your decisions, you face the consequences of your decisions, then why care about the people? The thing about people is that will always talk and they have a really short memory. They want to talk because they have nothing better to do. If you sit and do nothing, you are useless, if you go ahead and do something, they are just jealous. If dogs don't bark, what else will they do?

We live so much of our lives being what people want us to be that we forget who we really are and when we do things for other people we are bound to be frustrated. We can only excel or enjoy things when we do what we want to do. Our lives have gradually turned into an hypocrite pledge to satisfy others and the biggest problem is that you can never truly satisfy the people or the community standard, simply because there is none! Only when we define our life by what we want, there can be satisfaction, only then can we truly relate to that elated feeling called happiness.

"Ninty per cent of our lives are lived for other people and then we wonder why we aren't happy. The ten per cent is who we are, what defines us, what makes us happy."

You get to live once, live life KING size!

He Wasn't There

2010-08-08T09:19:00.000+02:00

When the dice of fate roll,
Would you question the game; your God; or your future told?
When in a lifetime of joys, there are moments of sorrow,
Would you give up on him; to whom you prayed each day for a brighter tomorrow.
In the myriads of questions would you seek an answer,
Or let him guide you; your best adviser.

When your kingdom falls and you have no place,
Would you still seek shelter in his holy grace?
When the tides are high and slap your face,
Would you still praise him; who always made you win each race.

When you wonder wither the winds of destiny would turn,
Would you try and change them? Or in your heart will his image burn?
On the glorious road, down that bright aisle,
When all you won, with all smile,
Did you think of him, who got you there?
But you fought with him,
When the dice rolled, and he wasn't there.

Where Were You?

2010-06-04T13:20:00.002+02:00

When I was laughing at jokes,
Rejoicing in my victories,
Smiling in happiness,
Where were you?

When I was tired to go on,
When I was smiling in grief,
Feeling everything was over,
Where were you?

When everything went wrong,
The world stood against me,
And none believed me,
Where were you?

When my tears were on the edge,
And I looked for a shoulder to cry on,
Where were you?

When time stood still,
People crushed my faith,
Tore me to pieces,
Where were you?

When I came face to face with myself,
Fighting a never ending war,
And I needed a negotiator,
Where were you?

When my dreams turned into nightmares,
My hopes shattered,
My insecurities doubled,
Fears strengthened,
Where were you?

When all made fun of me,
Laughed at my mistakes,
When I needed a friend,
Where were you?

When I was running away from life,
With no hopes and a million fears,
Where were you?

When I was looking for you all over,
And in my pursuit I fell down,
When I thought you would come to life me up,
Get me back on my feet again,
Where were you?

When all was over,
And I shed my last tear,
Drew a last breath,
Waiting for you to hold me,
Where were you?

Why India Deserves An Oscar

2010-05-04T19:21:00.000+02:00

Bollywood has produced some exceptional, evergreen, and extremely content oriented movies in recent times. Lagaan, Black, Taare Zameen Par etc. but still we do not find a place in the Best Foreign Film category in the Oscars. It is rather unfortunate isn't it?

If one was ever to write a paper on Antonio Gramsci's theory of cultural hegemony, the Oscars are a prime example of how hegemony plays out in the real world. Why are we so crazy about an Oscar? Is recognition by the US all the Indians are dying for? Will that prove to be an acknowledgment that India has arrived at the world stage?

It is how the media plays it, how our minds are shaped by the use of the internet, television and newspapers. When one talks of going abroad, it is usually presumed to be the US. Why? There are so many other countries in the world. They have better cinema, better actors, better standards for judging awards, then why are we so determined to get an Oscar? Is it because it is the most fair system? Or because it is globally accepted as being the most prestigious? Well, neither of them is true.

We tend to blindly replicate the West in whatever fields we can. Our slavery and colonialism is not over yet. Welcome to India of the 21st century whose latest philosophy is "When in doubt, look west". I agree to some extent that there are many things that the west (I mean the US in the present context) has achieved and done better than we could. However, it is not the be all and end all of superior civilization. Have you ever reflected on the t.v. shows and movies produced in India? How many ladies in India are dressed in saris worth thousands and jewelery worth lakhs 24x7 working in the house and cleaning utensils? Or how many boys and girls in India meet on the streets and start singing songs and everyone starts dancing behind them? It is pure drama and nothing else. Then why don't we have the same critical reflection of the shows and movies produced abroad. Not everyone lives the same lifestyle like the ones we see on Desperate Housewives, or Baywatch, or How I Met Your Mother or American Pie. Everyone in the US is not stripping naked and having sex all the time with almost anyone. (And that by no means is the definition of being liberal. But I'll reserve more thoughts on being liberal for another post)

However, getting back to my point, why is an Oscar award so important to us? I think we have been carried away to a point that we are just mesmerized by whatever is happening in the United States. We want to do everything the way they do it. I personally have great faith in our cinema (Yes, we do have our shameful moments like Ram Gopal Verma ki Aag and Jaani Dushman etc.) but our award ceremonies are as good and as fair as any other. Personally, I am one of those who believe that Slumdog Millionaire was awarded Oscars as a propaganda to show Indians in a bad light(I am sure there are those who disagree), and therefore, I believe that the Oscars are not the epitome of fairness and ultimate touchstone of recognizing good cinema.

It is time we start having faith in what we do rather than just be chimps and copy the west or crave for their recognition. When thousands die in India everyday in the floods, riots, due to poverty, earthquakes, we never observe a minute of silence. But when thousands died in 9/11, there was one minute silence in India. God Bless America!