Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Tryst

This one is very close to my heart. The poem is dedicated to the countless who are miles apart and are yet so near!

How I longed for (those) eyes so bright.
How I craved that hug so tight.
Traces of tresses, the moon within,
Am I in heaven, (or) was it the grin.

They say its spring, the trees too concur,
Why is that feeling? Is it the shiver??
Don't touch me now, do touch me now.
Heads says I die, Tails says I die. 

The day will come, come what may,
Mountains and sunshine, we'll trot away.
Mountains and sunshine; and lakes so blue,
Hold on to your breath, and to mine too.

Nest on a tree, chandelier is dew,
Green is the carpet, roof is The blue.
Crimson, and Golden, and Crimson, and Silver,
Mother (Nature) for the garden, Mother (Nature) for the mirror!

Don't say it dear, (your) eyes say it all,
Back to the darkness, back to the real.
I promise those eyes, my promise to you too,
Hold on to your breath, and to mine too.

Dear Malala,

When I first saw your childish 11 year old face, the first thought that came to my mind was to watch Tom & Jerry with you with a bowl full of ice cream. That is what kids love to do, don't they? But then I realized that I googled your name in the first place because I had come across the news that a girl was shot by Taliban. Reason - she wanted to go to school. Reality set in.

Before I go any further, I wanted to share with you a little piece of my childhood that I have not shared with anyone; not even my parents or my wife. It is one of those small incidents that unknowingly become a part of your being and do not resurface unless the covering layers have been peeled off by a sudden thrust.

I was around 9 / 10 years old, loved playing more than studies and used to play with friends before school, during recess and after school. Games were mostly played with a small ball made of rubber. There was a small settlement of slum dwellers right next to the school wall on the east side. We never knew they existed because our paths never crossed. One fine evening, after school, we were busy playing. All of a sudden, some boys ran into the ground and got hold of the ball. From the look of it, it looked like a three member gang with a really big boy as its leader. Naturally, we looked at the strongest guy in our group to face the leader of the opposite pack. He knew better, he backed off. When a lot of us pressed to get the ball back with more looks and less talk and least action, the leader climbed the school wall, royally relieved himself in front of us and walked off to the slums, the ball safely tucked in.
Naturally, I was angry the whole night. I kept on thinking what I could have done, what I would do the next time. The situation repeated itself some days later and I could not do anything again. Then I realized that more than I was angry, I was afraid. I was afraid that I could get hurt. That helpless feeling of being afraid has stayed on. I have been afraid since.

Why did I share the above incident? There I was, all of 10 years old, afraid of being hurt by a bully. And here you were, all of 11 years old, telling the Taliban that you wanted to go to school. I do not know much about Taliban, but I have read A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. I can say that I can understand what Afghan people, and especially Afghan women go through when they think about Taliban. And then to think about you staring into the camera and declaring that you have right to education; you are the bravest of the brave I have known. May God be with you at this time; May God bless you; May you be a beacon of hope for humanity for times to come.

Lastly, I know you are 15 now, and you might like to be a Gul Makai than to be a Tom or a Jerry. But if you ever read this, you are always welcome. I know your bhabhi will be as excited as I am to host you. And we promise we will talk only about Tom & Jerry and ice cream..

P.S. This piece was intended to celebrate light, not dissect darkness. It will help if we can stay away from comments regarding any faith or interpretation thereof.




Friday, January 7, 2011

Dardura II

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Please note: The theme of this story is not an original one. Long time ago I read an Odia short story titled "Dardura" by Shree Manoj Das. Hardly 150 words, but two pages of simple, yet hard hitting story telling. I'm taking the liberty of saluting that great work of art through this piece.
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I

"Do you know that guy in blue?" Asked Venkat, as we settled down on a corner table of the cafeteria for our usual 4 P.M. coffee session.

"Who? The one standing at the counter?" I asked, looking over my shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Not really. May be we have chatted a couple of times while traveling together in the bus. I guess his name is Subbu. Why?" I was trying to blow my coffee cold.

"Yes, Subbu. Actually, we joined on the same day. He was there in my team for the first couple of years. That guy had real potential." Venkat said, stirring his coffee. He seemed a bit lost.

"Is it?" I said, sensing something coming.

"Yeah. But potential takes you only this far. I have heard he is some kind of a domain specialist now. Does not work with any team as such. I would say he is one of those guys who make their living out of documentations, spreadsheets, presentations, talks and so on. Junk work."

His tone sounded a bit animated. And his coffee was not getting its usual 4 P.M. attention.

"Hmm.." I muttered, trying to figure out the meaningfulness of the technology oriented assignment that I and Venkat were working on at that time.

Venkat continued.

"And look at me. Playing with the best in class systems. Working on the latest technologies. Leading a team of my own. Building on customer relations and contributing to the organizational growth. Now this is what you call real work."

Coffee got over.

"Shall we?" I said.


II

"Hey!" I heard the familiar face greeting me while I was sitting down on the next seat. It took me a moment to realize that his name was Subbu.

"Hi. What's up?" I replied, putting on my earphones and getting ready for the next forty minutes of dust, jerks and noise.

"Nothing much. What about you?" He replied, opening a book.

"Same here." I smiled and closed my eyes.

After some time I was looking out of the window to figure out the exact place the bus was passing through. I realized it would take five more minutes.

Subbu looked at me and said, "Say, I have observed you some of the times at the cafeteria. If I remember correctly, the guy with you must be Venkat, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is." I sat up erect in my seat.

"How long have you known that guy?" Subbu asked.

"Not long. I joined his team around three months back. Why?"

"Actually, he and I joined on the same day. We were there in the same team for the first two years of our career."

"Is it?!!"

"Hard working guy, Venkat. Very industrious." Subbu closed his book. And continued.

"But hard work is not everything, you know. As you can see, a Team Lead kind of person has got pretty limited scope. Even after so many years of service, you will end up fixing bugs on a Friday evening. Thankless work, isn't it?"

"Hmm.." I muttered.

"And look at me. Analyzing business opportunities. Interpreting market trends. Preparing business proposals. Supporting the pre-sales team and thus contributing to the organizational growth. Challenging, isn't it?"

"I'll be getting down here." I said while getting up.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

a thoughtlet

Ayyappan said, "If you want to see the Venus, I can show you right here, right now. Just come with me." It was good to be switched off for five minutes and gaze at the sky. Venus, there it was..clear, distinct and glowing. The event reignited a thought process which has been burning from my graduation first year.

I don't exactly remember, but it must be around 12-15 years ago when I first heard of the phrase "Where science ends, philosophy starts." I have appreciated the phrase a little more every time I have thought about it.

To start with, let us try to look 'way beyond' & 'deep within' and ask some questions.

We know that there is earth, then there is moon, the solar system, the milky way and so on. Our knowledge has been very well aided by science in this regard. As much as science has made progress, truth is, it all ends somewhere. Certainly not the universe, but our knowledge or interpretation of the universe, or whatever we know of it. Then we come to the question, "What is there beyond? And beyond?!"

Now let us flip the thought process and start looking within. We know that our bodies are magnificent works of Civi Engineering, Chemical Engineering, Electrical / Electronics Engineering, Mechanical Engineering and Computer Engineering put together. If you do not believe, think of the human body's drainage system, cell mechanisms, communication between different parts of body, pumps (read heart) and the neural mechanisms. We all know, by virtue of progress made by science over years what happens and how it happens. The question arises how each individual's characteristics are different in the way she / he acts or reacts. If we keep digging, we will end up at the genes; the source code of humans. We might also realise how each of these source codes are set up. But, again, the point of contention is, who keeps on writing these source codes so that each of the six billion plus individuals in this world is unique?!

Let us leave it at that and appreciate the grandeur that we are part of - Life !!