Saturday, September 23, 2006

welcome the mother

blow the trumpets.
beat the drums.
clash the cymbals.
let their sound resonate
through every lane and pane
if it doesn't
then push it a bit
with high fidelity amplifiers
and shout if you want
and raise cries
to touch the skies
let each wall around
shiver
with all it's belongings
and every window
shatter
with ears beyond it
no
it does not suffice
burst crackers then
of rinkle twinkle
and heart freezing explosions
let there be nothing else but sound
every bit dissolved in it
only sound
and sound
for the mother has come
or is it the son
it does not matter whom
it is the sound that matters
who cares if someone dying needs some peace
for silence is forbidden
only the mother being welcomed
or perhaps the son
knows why...

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Two deaths and a thought

Within a period of a fortnight I had witnessed two deaths then. Both similar to each other to a great extent. At the same time differing each other equally. The similarities being both the deaths took place in Worli, both related to the politics, both having similar political ideologies. Both these men were once teachers who later played a major role in making the parties they worked for, big fishes in the sea of Indian political community, through the early days of foundation of their respective parties. Both were on ventilators in their last moments and both left behind a families of a son, daughter, wife and an aged mother.
Now it’s the time for differences.
One was a political activist. He spent his life working for his political party selflessly. He worked for it’s growth and popularity without expecting a penny or a position. All he had been in his life was regional secretary for his party. In spite of all his efforts and hard work he remained a simple party worker foe the upper crust of leaders in his party, his once colleagues. He strived with them to help his party hold roots on the soil of Mumbai. Only to be forgotten and neglected later. The boys he introduced went further to hold high positions at national and state assemblies. But he remained only what he was, The Regional Secretary of his party. Wherever he worked he gained friends, made unbreakable alliances and gained popularity amongst his fellow and subordinate workers. The only drawback of his persona was his misqualification of selflessness. He gave up his nomination for a subordinate youngster at the peak of his political career. He worked in slums, chawls and hutments for their upliftment without demanding ransom, in which his contemporaries had gained a mastery in. He put needy in first place and himself at last. He slogged through day and night in areas, which his other white-collar co-workers shivered at the mere thought. For only cause he knew was social upliftment, which he believed strongly, was what his party was formed for. However, he was disillusioned later. His tendency of refusing lucrative positions always kept him a man ever struggling to make the ends meet in his personal life. Till his last moment he lived in a hardly one bedroom house which he had been living in for years. At last he died a peaceful death of misinterpreted disease.
This other was a strategist. The big shot of his party. Mention of his party was his mention. He promoted his party to the extent of bringing it to power in India. He was known for his taste of technology and keen interest in adopting modern technological wonders. He was a bit of rule breaker for his party yet highly respected for the amount of intellect he possessed in formulating strategies at each election. His calculations worked at times and failed. But he remained the brain of his party. Never did he miss a moment of being in limelight whenever his party emerged victorious at any of election. A true believer of publicity, he made use of media to polish the image of his party by broadcasting advertising campaigns highlighting the achievements made by his party when in power, which in truth never existed. Involved in sex scams. His name splashed in numerous large illegal dealings. Responsible for privatization of many public sector industries providing basic needs to the common man. A sweet talker by nature and a hard core politst. Many issues that rose against him from time to time were covered up mysteriously, never to be mentioned again. His crusade for wealth never ceased as he climbed up his political ladder. Right hand of the political maestros and a consignee of their illegitimate transactions. He was a man whose name was always there on the lips of the nation. He had tottered the globe for the fund raisal of his party. From a small time teacher in a hamlet of northern Maharashtra, to the spokesman of a major political party his journey was painted with greed, lust and fame. Reaching newer heights in politics, all of a sudden was shot by his brother at his home in the posh locality of Worli homing several other V.I.P.s the very same day when his counterpart was declared to be in a last stage by the doctor giving up on his efforts. His counterpart passed away next day, while all possible measures were taken to save his life for a period of twelve long days, doctors doing their best to keep his soul from departing his body. Along with all media publicity and glamour. At last he died of lung infection, which coincidentally was the death ailment of his counterpart too. His death covered up for all his black deeds and made him a hero, with his death ceremony to be telecasted live by various television channels while his counterpart died a nameless death, cremated at Worli crematorium and not at considerably far Shivaji Park crematorium enabling a huge death procession with, crowds following, bhajans blaring on loud speakers and policemen giving rifle salutes. unlike him, no newspaper columns were filled with extollations for his counterpart.
This is how the political system works in our country. Real heroes die a silent death as scoundrels are made heroes for their undone deeds everyday.
My heartiest regrets to families of both these men. May god grant peace to these men’s souls and strength to their families to overcome their sorrow (which, I know by worldly means, they will).
And may god grant the dwellers of this nation ability to think about the circumstances around them someday.

Shut Up!!!!...and sit in train!!!

Rejoice!!!!Mumbai is back in action.After one more series of
blasts.Mumbaikars are back to their normalcy,the very next
day.Cheers!!! This is the real Spirit of Mumbai.Come what may...We are
not going to stop.Every body listen to this.The terrorists.The Bandh
Men.The Rain God.The sewage system in sorry state.The
politicians.Everybody.We are not going to budge.Do whatever you can.We
will always stay firm.Bravo Mumbai.Come on.Lets celebrate the spirit of
Mumbai!!!! Finished? Now my turn. All those who are in an urge to celebrate the spirit of
Mumbai...I just want them to do one thing.Step into a local train and
look at the faces of the people sitting in there.What do u see on their
faces? Do they look as they are out to celebrate their spirit? Do they
look as if they have defeated the terrorists in their efforts,
whatsoever they are considered by the spirit celebraters. Look at their
faces closely if u want. What do u see? I'll tell u. You won't find any spirit or feeling of victory on
them.All that u can find is helplessness. Yes helplessness. Do u think they have boarded the train to put their spirit on
display??? The truth is that the so called Undefeatable Mumbaikar is a
defeated person.He is bound up to his schedule.So tightly, that he
can't even think of untying himself from it.He has to reach his office
next day.No matter what.Flood,Riot,Bomb Blast....Whatsoever. He has to earn his daily bread.He has to feed a family.He has
to pay his bills.And if he has a loan,he has to pay it's
installments.Loan for a personal reason.Or to raise his standard of
living to match up to his other competitors in the race.He has to pay
the fees for his kids education.And if they are into professional
education....his god save him!!!(which god has failed to in some cases
during the blasts).And he has to keep abreast with the regularly
swelling inflation.In short,he has to keep together his daily
crumbling.He has to reach his workplace as he cannot afford to miss a
day.He has to reach as he has pending files,pending projects,pending
reports,pending papers....pending something or the other.Work all
day,till he almost drops,only to find something pending.For this,at
least he has to reach his office. Imagine a housewife asking her husband to stay home for a day
as the day before,trains have blown off in serial blasts.What do you
expect her husband to say?"Honey....I hve to go to ....I have to show my spirit to those
terrorists who caused the blasts!!!" Or will you see him sying,"I have to go.....my father doesn't own the company to take holiday
whenever I want.....If i am not paid...What will we eat???" What sounds more realistic??? Mumbai is a city of dreams.People live here with dreams in
their eyes.But for many,earning a daily bread is biggest dream this
city can show.And for that he has to board his train.Or for that
matter,step out of his house.He can't even afford to be scared.Well we
can call this helplessness of his as his Undying Spirit!!!! And for solution to the problems of people of Mumbai.We can say
there doesn't exist one.After floods...there would be floods again next
year.After blasts.....there would be blasts again sometime years
later.After riots.....There would be riots again as some like to play
pranks with useless statues at prime locations of the city.Whatever has
occoured...will occour again.And people will keep on going..and
going...and going...and going....like energizer batteries.Keeping up
their so called 'Spirit'.With one and ony one line in their minds,covering whatever other thoughts thier minds may generate.... 'Shut Up.....and sit in train...'

Saturday, September 16, 2006

For man A.S.....the ultimate cool dude of India

few days ago i led a completely normal life. gold flake lights is a truly good cigatrette,which my best friend had
introduced to me. whenever i smoked it i used to share it with him.that
was because I knew only he knew it's true prowess. if u dont have money and u want to drink a lot of beer, go to a wine
shop and ask for 'golden eagle' and the man at the counter will give
you three bottles for 100 rupees. well you can't even buy two beer
bottles for that amount(and it has a very good kick). this was
recommended to me by my another best friend who has an affilition for
beer as i do. drinking with him meant sharing of each of those three
beer bottles amongst two of us. have you read arun kolatkars 'jejuri'? it's a real piece of poetry.my
friend told me about it and i instantly brought a copy of it for i am
completely sure of his choice as we share a same poetic wavelength and
taste for good literature.our meetings are often plagarised by peotic
lines from 'jejuri' that day onwards. have you ever been in love.love makes life beautiful.i was unaware of
it till she came into my life.she.my love of life.swallower of my
sorrows.my comforter in distress and my support in lows.my girlfriend.

today i live a life in a dire state of confusion.
i lead an abnormal life
now i share a 'gold flake lights' with an OBC. i drink 'golden eagle' with an SC. i recite 'Jejuri' with an NT2. and love of my life is a BVJ. ...and i am an 'OPEN'.

My best friend since childhood was hit by police while protesting
against reservations. he is an M.B.B.S. and was on news channel(i
called up home to tell my mom) My another friend was arrested by police for protesting against
reservations. No he is not an M.B.B.S. but he is a hard core supporter
of anti reservations and youth for equality. now there is a case
pending against him and he has to stay in the city as long as the case
proceeds.
they both were OPEN of course.

Now when i support them, my reserved category friends start arguing
with me for 'years long suppression of their rights and other such
stuff'.
And when i support my reserve category friends for their 'years long
suppression of their rights and other such stuff' my open category
friends argue with me on 'supression of talent and other such stuff'
i lead a peaceful life for 22 long years.i neither had a caste nor
talent. thank god for that.but now time has come for me to choose. and
i dont thank god for that.
but in this choice where do i go as i dont possess any of these.
and what about these people close to my heart waho are now two clear
divisions of society? whom should i choose?

yo man A.S.(Arjun Singh) thanx dude.

yo man A.S. good job buddy

it has took years to delete the lines of caste creed and
religion.From chhatrapati shivaji to agarkar to jyotiba phule to
babasaheb ambedkar to annabhau sathye. it has taken years. maybe
centuries for us to delete these lines.
and A.S. is successful at drawing them again. yo man A.S. if keep repeating over a drawn line for number of
times...the paper gets torn.think dude...the paper will get torn.the
paper of indian youth.the paper of tommorows society.

yo man A.S. leave people like me. we also have many other choices to
make. we can't hang on to these discrimination,reservation,etc and such
matters.leave me for my friends.and not categories. let me share a cigarette,beer; discuss poetry and fall madly in love with humans and not categories. leave me for people and not ancient social sects.

Please man A.S.....leave me. and leave many others like me....