Word's Worth

That Day's Night

2020-08-04T11:45:00.005-07:00

That day, I woke up at night.

I think I could hear the hooting of a train

O'er the impending rain,

That saddled the winds moving the curtains.

It was dark, the birds were not up yet.

From my window I could see

The swaying branches of the trees.

Moving right and moving left

Going warp & going weft

Everyone was asleep

But the trees, but the breeze, and I.

I could hear the leaves rustle and the air cut through their blades. Making ghostly sounds.

It brought with it the sounds

Of a set of tinkling chimes in someone's garden

And the creaking hinges of my window.

And the sound of a now awake cuckoo, which promptly went back to sleep again.

Everyone was asleep

The moving branches looked like teeming grey clouds

As merry, as dense.

Unescorted by thunder.

It was a quite night

I could hear the fan

Its sounds wavering with the gush of breeze from my window.

I wanted the birds to sleep a bit longer & not wake the sun up

Like they always do.

I bundled up and tried to sleep

Whilst it was still night that day...

From a Child's eyes...

2020-08-03T06:43:00.005-07:00

"Goodnight", said she. "See a good dream

And so will I.

Maybe you will be in my dream

And me in yours"

A happy dream it will be...

"And you must remember it when you wake up.

Tell me what you saw.

Maybe I will draw you a picture."

A happy picture it will be...

"Close your eyes", said she.

Dreams are always happy.

"Just choose happy ones today, Ma.

And tell me when you wake up

And I will also share with you

All the dreams I see."

Satiety

2020-07-30T10:49:00.002-07:00

So full that you are empty

So much buzz

So much talking

A trunk full

An overflowing closet

A busy calendar

Cups of tea

None savoured.

No appetite.

No time.

Nothing to wear.

Nowhere to hide even...

So full that you are empty.

She.

2020-07-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

I've been seeing her often these days

She has been around

We haven't got talking yet

There is too much not done.

File papers are loose

The laundry is piling

There is a deadline smiling

And a little child frowning

A smiling dead line is a gory image

It would be a curve? Or a slanting line?

Sleeping perhaps. They haven't taught it clearly

In the classes I attend these days.

But she has been around

Lurking in the shadows, behind curtains as the child wipes her hands on them

And under the table with all the Lego blocks

I see her often, but we haven't got talking.

Not yet. But we should soon.

I am not sure I like her much.

She is angry & here teeth are clenched.

I've been trying to unclench my teeth these days

Reminding me, it's alright

To just be.

Pothos

2020-07-26T13:17:00.001-07:00

A wafting tune in the air greets me as i open the door

Someone is singing, smiling & singing

That early in the morning

The breeze carries the faint words with the morning smell of trees

Some parrots fly by, a cuckoo coos

I sit down near the pothos

With a warm cup engulfed in my hands

It rained last night & i can see the washed roads With a couple of dogs walking their people.

A cooker whistle shrieks,

The voice stops singing abruptly, mid sentence.

My mind picks up the old tune & hums on

The cup is empty, my hands still warm.

The tune lingers in my heart.

Pressed flower.

2020-07-19T11:45:00.002-07:00

An old book in the book shelf
With an old book smell in its yellow pages
A folded corner of the first page
Wonder how that got there..

I run through the wads of paper
Running my right thumb over the pages as I hold it in my left hand
A dried flower falls out
A few anthers spill
I bend down and pick it up.
Wonder how that got here..

I rotate it holding its stem
I can still smell the old rose
It looks pale, but intact in structure
A souvenir from a time gone by
That time, this time
Wonder how I got here..

(A)loneliness

2018-05-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

There is value in being alone.
Amidst habitation perhaps but not amongst known
Once in a while a chat with a stranger
Perhaps staring into nothing with nature

There is value in being quiet and talking
To oneself; perhaps in walking
To nowhere.
There is value in having nothing to do
No deadline to meet, No approval to seek
To sing & dance when no one is watching
To hone a craft when no one is gauging
To eat a meal and sip a drink
Relishing it, not in a blink
And ponder on the lingering taste
In having a lot of time to 'waste'

There is value in pondering over the aloneness
The ensuing warmth of belonging it rekindles
There is value in running away once in a while
Somewhere not very far away - Just close enough perhaps, not near.

Worldview through a tinted glass -2

2012-01-27T22:18:00.000-08:00

On that unusually chilly winter afternoon, he was standing in the shade of the huge concrete wall, in the way of hundreds of pedestrians who were in utmost hurry to enter the buzzing shopping mall. The winter sale in India can have that effect on people. The colourful hoardings behind him screeched of offers in contrast with his discoloured but clean off white clothes. His turban, neatly tied around his ears & his long moustache made him look fairly out of place midst the shopping-festival gaiety.

There was also this small brown dog; sitting with utmost discipline in front of the man, right under his nose behind the basket where he balanced cut onions, tomatoes, coriander chillies along with beaten chana. Between wooing passersby to buy his knick knacks, the man occasionally peeped behind the basket to check if the dog was still there. The dog did not bark or plead or disrupt his balance. He just sat there, facing the man, and looking at him in a long unbroken gaze.

The man looked around, calling out to advertise his wares with no luck. He peeped once again & with a slightly hesitating hand, removed a fistful & gave it to the dog.

Someone nudged me from the back, the queue to enter the building had moved on further. So, so did I.

Worldview through a tinted glass -1

2012-01-01T02:53:00.000-08:00

Its a lazy Saturday mid-afternoon. As I sit on my window sill, in part sunlight in an unusual Mumbai chilliness, strain of a melancholy flute playing nearby draws me towards itself. I look earnestly through the trees that line the road downstairs to the tiny patch of roach visible. The security guard at the gate is looking to one side of the road - maybe that is where the sound is coming from.

I listen on, concentrating, midst the sounds of fluttering pigeons, chirping birds, construction trucks & someone coaxing the auto ignition of their scooter to work. There he is - his frail person barely visible under the loads of flutes he is trying to sell. Suddenly, the sound is more melancholy - it tears through the static city hustle & transports my mind to a tiny playground decades ago, where we looked in awe at the flute wallahs churning melodies off wooden pipes - coaxing our grannies to buy us one, but never quite managing to play it. I wonder if the ones they sell are the ones they play!

The sound had since become distant. Now, as if awaken from a slumber, I hear it drawing closer. The frail form of the vendor has come to sight again as he retraces his path out the same road. India has so much talent, hidden in all its nooks & crevices - like the last crumbs of delicious plum cake one can scrape from the baking dish. I think of the street vendors selling hand-made stuffed toys. So much skill...

My cell phones vibrates on the study table nearby. I hurry to pick it up; and then, I stop thinking...

Questions to Self...

2011-11-07T08:19:00.000-08:00

Is life what we make of it?

Is it what we take of it?

I wonder sometimes in wake of it

If not we live just for sake of it…

Ishu's Tales-C

2011-09-05T20:45:00.000-07:00

Ishu was perched atop the boundary wall of the house when she saw a bright yellow blob come down the approach road to their house. She squealed with delight & leapt towards the tiny iron gate. The bright yellow autorickhaw - even brighter in the overcast weather - halted lightly just then & before Mahesh could get out of it, Ishu was inside!

Two minutes later, she entered the house in her father's arms. She could smell the aroma of soft warm idlis from the kitchen. With a grin firmly pasted on her face, she alighted & ran in to get her 'class' drawing book & maths test-copy.

"3 stars!", exclaimed Mahesh, "what a lovely scenery you have made! Come here!" Mahesh was proud of Ishu's love for colours - yellow skies, red grass, blue houses, black people...

Ishu's Tales-B

2011-09-01T23:39:00.000-07:00

Mahesh had been away for a week now.

Meeta made Ishu sit up in bed & moved to open the curtains. "Chalo get up now, its 9 AM!" Ishu opened half an eye, grumbled & toppled back in another direction.

"Have your Bournvita", Ishu was motionless. Meeta smiled. A little while later, Ishu could hear her voice at a distance, "Daddy will be here any moment..."

Ishu jumped up...hair all disheveled, carefully placed her two tiny feet on the cold metal window grill & peered out towards the gate. The road had the usual fruit-walah selling bright green guavas. She jumped down & ran to her mother who was sitting on the verandah cutting vegetables & humming an old song.

The garden was brimming with flowers...

Curtains.

2011-08-14T13:36:00.000-07:00

It is so tough to write on a blank sheet of paper. Sometimes, especially when you are unhappy, especially when you hide within yourself things you do not want to discuss with yourself. Sometimes, when that happy curtain of un-acceptance wears from hanging in there untouched for decades, it does not feel good. Thick curtains should hang in right there where they belong – they should not move, they should be still.

It is good to have someone in life who knows all about you - Someone who keeps you from running away the moment the curtains part in the wind, someone with whom you are not afraid to walk through to the other side, someone to share all of life with – with all it’s lived past, living present & coming future.

Sometimes, I feel blessed.

Thank You…

Train-ing guide!

2011-07-12T11:00:00.000-07:00

There is no experience quite like travelling in a Mumbai Local. Given that an average Mumbai dweller spends one-eighth of his/her day travelling from one corner of Mumbai to another, many a tasks are fitted to fill in those 4 odd hours. Many a things that form the book definition of a wholesome life which us original modern, non-city dwellers do not bother much about, creep into the life of anyone who has spent about 2-3 odd years in Mumbai. It’s contagious…and it varies with age…ranging from the extremes of chopping vegetables, mugging up for exams, catching up with loved ones on phone, chatting, knitting sweaters for kids in colder lands, praying, reading or saying grace…trains are a haven of all elements of a life well lived. Every little moment accommodates every little nuance which matters in a daily checklist of a ‘responsible’ citizen…

What I love the best about my train journeys, especially if I am standing (which is the case more often than not) is peeping into & reading open pages of the novels which my co-travelers are going through. My daily dosage of reading surely gets done along with giving enough foliage to my imagination thanks to chapters from fiction novels which begin out of nowhere (like scenes from a play) & end unceremoniously when one of us gets down at the next station! Spirituality is taken care of with chapters of Art of living staring at my face…it is indeed a wholesome train-ing experience in the train!

It is great to see a novel unfold in its most cathartic moment, as if that is where it all begun & I fight the urge to snatch the book to flip back the pages to check the context of it all! I put imaginary faces to names, imaginary settings & if I really like what I read, I strain to check out the names of the books on the covers & along the upper page margins! I make it a point not to be noticed as I read up pages after pages, more often than not way faster than the original reader…

(What really surprises me is the affinity of a slightly elder age group of women lapping up chapters off Mills & Boons in the train! I must admit, it’s my maiden brush with M&B as well, so I too sort of qualify to be a vicarious elderly reader J )

Someday I am sure I am going to get a feeling of déjà vu in the middle of many a book…but until then, I guess it’s going good!!!

**Image picked from the internet**

Ishu's tales-A

2011-06-22T22:00:00.001-07:00

"Here..", said Meeta as she thrust the phone on little Ishu's ear, "talk to daddy!"

Ishu looked puzzled as she questioningly held the cold receiver against her warm cheek. "Say Hello!" squealed her mom. A voice from the other end said, "Hello Beta!"

Ishu pulled the receiver away from her ear & looked at it...Nothing...she looked under the phone set...Nothing...she gave a knowing chuckle & dived under the table...Nothing! She put the receiver right back on her ear & complainingly remarked, "Daddy! Where are you hiding??!"

*image picked from the internet

Seashore by my window!

2011-06-19T05:04:00.000-07:00

A sea beyond my window sill!

With green waves forming with the winds!

A sea across the iron grill!

With bobbing flowers, speak of spring! :)

A Rainy Mumbai Evening...

2011-06-15T04:21:00.000-07:00

It was a rainy Mumbai evening. As the local train laboured itself into the station, a whole lot of people, in varying stages of being dunked by the Almighty lunged themselves towards it, in full faith that the one before & the one after them in the melee would ensure that they get in. As the train started to move away from the platform the tensed muscles eased a little & the ‘inmates’ started to settle in.

Understandably, the doors & windows were fastened lest the rain water gets in. It was very hot & musty as the drenched brushed against those who were lucky enough to save themselves from getting wet in the rain.

I looked up as a drop of cold water plopped on my hand from a bystander’s umbrella. She smiled to me & I smiled back – it will get better at the next major station.

The in-train announcement confirmed that we were approaching & the heavy iron doors were pushed open to a welcoming gush of breeze & a mass exodus of people. The breeze brought along with itself, a shower of tiny droplets & 3 little street urchins – 2 little boys & a little girl.

One of the co passengers was quick to ask them to alight – but to no avail. One of the boys, only marginally elder to the other two, dangled on the pole at the compartment door for a few seconds, & the train was moving again. He made the two little ones perch safely at the door itself & placed a huge poly-bag between them and the exit steps. A little while hence, the two were fighting over a snakes & ladders board they had fished out of the bag.

The erstwhile co-passenger, who was intent on shooing the kids away, stood smiling as they asked the elder kid to arbitrate which snake was bigger in length. To my surprise, they were comparing the difference in the numbers at the head & tail of the snake instead of the visible length. Maybe, something in the free education scheme was actually going right.

Oblivious to us all, the kids in their tattered clothes & shoeless feet sat counting numbers from 1 to 100 on the metal board. I sat there & wondered at their gleeful innocence even as the winds lashed in with fistfuls of mirth.

Moonlight

2011-05-16T21:44:00.000-07:00

I had written this in 2007, 4 years before & I found it tucked in a folder today. Time flies & with it, so do we !!!

The moonlight takes a peek within
With me alone in this tiny room
It shines through fresh into the night
Engulfs in life, the biting gloom.

With it it brings the shadows too
That flicker as flames with the moving leaf;
That moves with the wind-the gentle breeze
And sneaks in as a tiny thief..

Steals in my thoughts, and as I lose
Myself in the myriad hues it brings
A gush of breeze ripe with the smell
Of mud so wet, just comes right in

I wonder how the moistened winds,
Can bring with them so many things
I wonder how I do recall, so much of life
When thunder rings…

I wonder why the thunder bolts
Remind me of the morning sun
I wonder why the pelting rains
Steal all my sleep (and away they run!)

I wonder just what makes me write
If it is Him in his wondrous ways
Or is it me, my Life itself
That quizzes me more, the more I gaze…

I think of life in the middle of the night
In a strange place, I do not wish to call
My own; is not here that I belong
It is not this, which I call home…

I think of life, as life unfolds
To me, and as it brings to the fore
The myriad hues I have to live
The varied roles I have to play…

I do not wish to lose my self
In this pseudo glee and just revel
In the garb they gave me…
I wish to fly…

I wish to wish this time away…
I wish to stay at my hearth and home
Pray I do not seek to flee
I seek to have my fill of the mirth…

Of which I call my own, my home
I wish to come back, to that ground one day
Where I began in my mother’s womb
I wish to sleep…

Komal Vashist
May 2, 2007

|| एक आम आदमी ||

2011-05-10T11:27:00.000-07:00

मैं एक आम आदमी हूँ
मेरी कुछ इच्छाएं हैं और कुछ आशाएं भी

मैं दिन भर पल पल कल के लिए जीता हूँ
वो कल जो अब तक नहीं आया , शायद आएगा भी नहीं

आज पिसता हूँ की कल एक नयी सुबह मुझे जगाएगी
फिर उस सुबह को अनदेखा कर के , एक नए कल की कल्पना में रह जाता हूँ

मैं ही सड़क के किनारे भीख मांगता हूँ ,
और मैं ही उन हाथों में आठ आने दबा कर अपने रस्ते चला जाता हूँ

वो भी मैं हूँ जो कल कचड़े में रोटी ढूँढ रहा था
मैंने ही तो उस टुकड़े को फेंका जो था वहां

ये क़ानून मैंने ही बनाये हैं , ये सरकार मैं ही हूँ ,
और वहां उस कठघरे में सर झुकाए मैं ही तो खड़ा हूँ

मैं ही आज सुबह रेडियो पर खबरें पढ़ रहा था
वो ख़बरें जो गए दिन मैंने ही तो बनायीं थी

ये आज जो मैं इतने हिस्सों में बँट गया हूँ
ये लकीरें मैं ही तो खींचता आया हूँ

मैं एक आम आदमी हूँ , आम भी और ख़ास भी
मैं एक आम आदमी हूँ , और मैंने ही खुद को आम भी बनाया है ...

By an Ant...

2011-04-29T11:38:00.000-07:00

Shoes on the dance floor,
Strapped & tied...

Shoes on the dance floor,
narrow & wide...

Shoes on the dance floor,
Of the groom & the bride...

Shoes on the dance floor,
On the middle & the side...

Shoes on the dance floor,
As they moved in stride...

Stomped on me, n hence I died :P

Untitled

2011-03-05T10:06:00.000-08:00

यादों का क्या है?
खुद ही बन जाती हैं ...

मनं के एक कोने में, घर कर जाती हैं
आती नहीं हैं यादें, साथ ही रहती हैं
कहीं खुली नदी जैसे , यूँ ही बेकल बहती हैं

गर बस चलता यादों पर ,
तो चुन चुन कर वो यादों का गुलदस्ता बनाते
उसकी ही खुशबु से हर पल को महकाते

पर यादों का क्या है?
खुद ही बन जाती हैं ...

एकदम साफ़ , एकदम सहज , जैसे ओस की बूँदें
उनमे हमेशा कुछ अच्चा ही होता है
जैसे वो रिश्ते जिन्हें हम खुद नहीं बनाते ...

इन यादों का क्या है ,
खुद ही बन जाती हैं ...

जीवन

2011-01-05T10:39:00.000-08:00

ये जीवन कहाँ से कहाँ चला जाता है ||

कभी यूँ ही सन्नाटे में , दूर से कुछ आवाजें आती हैं

जैसे कानों में भर के , यादें ऐसे इठलाती हैं

नन्ही सी धूप किरण जैसे , दूर से एक खुशबू लेकर

मेरे घर में पर्दों से लुका छुपी खेलती ,

यूँ ही बिखर जाती है

कोई आहट , किसी बीते हुए पल की ,

कभी हसाती है , कभी रुलाती है ...

ये जीवन कहाँ से कहाँ चला जाता है ...||

Embers

2011-01-05T10:28:00.000-08:00

What good is the glory, I do not bask;

What joy is the joy, I do not revel?

What use is a pain that is not mourned;

What free is the youth that doesn't rebel?

What warm is a memory, not replayed;

What point is the face unremembered;

What use is a smile that isn't returned;

What life is a life, 'un-embered'?

My experiments with Tech...

2010-12-23T01:23:00.000-08:00

I am a technology illiterate & not immensely proud of it. I would have been over 21 years of age when I first learnt how to switch on a laptop! The first words I typed on the keyboard was – “OK” – after having spent over a minute trying to figure out where the two alphabets were placed on the keyboard.

I never formatted presentations & reports all of my 1st two trimesters at college. I had groupies who would do that while I sat next to them either dictating or just giving them company while they aligned the document & made it presentable (but for you, my horrid grades would have been worse) Summer placements took me to IBM and there I learnt that there exists something known as a Master slide & watermark! If I look at the presentation I made back then, (I get scared) my belief that there are people & companies that look beyond the cosmetic gets strengthened.

I came back to year two with new found power-point skills & started at MS office with a vengeance! Just then I was introduced to windows 07 & the new awakened curiosity bug took me to the world of page settings, smart art etc; It was a good ride.

I joined work at a conglomerate. With over a hundred companies to boast of, I was sure I would be pretty away from all things geeky. Soon I found myself in an atmosphere powered by Seibel, with Ajax, portals, click streams, data churning in the air which reeked strongly of automobiles. It was here I understood the importance of making a single slide with multi messages using ‘custom animation’ in the presentation. I honed my PPT skills to almost a PhD level here given my reporting managers fondness for presentations. (I must mention here, that all reporting managers like presentations, I will like them too!) The presentation I put together here is (one that can make my jaws drop in amazement) one I am myself immensely proud of.

By now I had ‘mastered’ the ‘Art of the fancy’. And with my new-found qualification under my belt, I sped off to a hard core engineering project which required me to have some knowledge of the ground realities & engineering basics (in hindsight, bursts out laughing) Needless to say, my ‘tech skills’ held me in poor stead here as the need was for the ‘correct tech skills’ For a moment I thought I understood why more people opted for IT as a discipline. I survived.

I moved on to an utterly non geeky world of agriculture where tradition required me to write the proper English, use the proper font, write the proper mails & use the right templates. My non-geeky & relaxed self loved it here! But I learnt the nuances of propriety. I put my ppt skills to good use here & explored hitherto unknown arenas & uses of the Web. Webinars, video conferences, tele presence were becoming commonplace. I felt like how the pickle must feel lying in the jar, marinating in the ingredients put around it.

Next came the visit to an era in time 50 years behind ours. I was in a rural set up, drinking well water, sitting on the roadside, when under-the-tree was the ‘coolest’ place to hang out in. The place did not have even a cyber café & kids ran behind a one-off running vehicle on the road randomly giggling & enjoying themselves. Life was simple & easy, yet difficult.

The project period passed & I was over an year in work-life, all set to join an old manufacturing company which would help me get an ‘on-ground’ understanding & help ‘get the hands dirty’. Alas, that was not to be. I joined the Telecommunication sector!

Its been doing me good to ask random questions on and off. I have handled quite a few things tech. And I have concluded that the lesser one knows the better it is for the self & for the companies one works at.

All these years interspersed with SAS, Seibel, Ajax, 3G, HSDPA, HSUPA, CHS, Switches & not to forget MS office have still not convinced me that I understand anything remotely technical, IT or geeky. However, I do spend larger hours on the internet than ever before. One think that Google did for me is helping me think lesser, what fB did for me to help me meet ‘friends’ after over eternity. I don’t know if that is good. I still don’t know whether tech includes engineering, MS office, jazzy system languages or network operations. What I do know, is that I can be excused – I admit, “I am a tech illiterate.”

Adventures of Sem - Part V

2010-09-12T10:24:00.000-07:00

The day at work passed in a jiffy. It was 9pm in the night when Sem returned to his car in the parking lot. Even as he heard it unlock at a distance, the night security guard wished him a good night. Sem replied with a huge grin looking fondly at the exit & tickled within at the thought of being in the parking lot again! He was humming a loony tune & ruffling his hair.

He got inside the car & pushed the gym gear to the back seat. His long hours at work were costing him his gym routine. Within minutes, he was on his way back…even the traffic did not seem to bother him much & he even noticed the moon through his car window. By the time he reached home, it was 11:30 in the night. Sem went upstairs quickly & peeped through the balcony window. A few perched pigeons looked at him dismayed at being disturbed. He felt like shooing them all away, then thought how fond his folks back home are of feeding birds and let them be. The balcony on the other side was pitch dark. The door was ajar though & Sem reluctantly peeled himself away from the window & quickly settled down.

The next morning he got up pretty early-even before the alarm clock sounded. It was a nice fresh dewy morning. And his pets were dutifully making their wicked groaning noises in the balcony. Instinctively, he went out to shoo them away. He couldn’t help but notice, the door was shut now.

He brewed himself some nice black coffee & perched among his now there-now away pigeon friends facing the balcony on the other side. Girls, he thought, but quickly collected his expanding smile as the door on the other side yawned open…