Mothers Day Special

It was his wish to be born, though it wasn't the right time,

Time was premature yet he insisted on being born

Mother had no choice 

Though she pleaded and pleaded for him to stay and become strong.

But he was stubborn and refused to relent.

So Mother was rushed to hospital where the men-in-charge did a bad job.

A lot of blood was lost from both Mother and Son.

Both lives in peril, but both got through.

And so he was born, born without the strength.

Born without the conscience but born all the same.

Son was a rebel and refused to listen.

Refused reason, refused balance.

But Mother loved him dearly and gave him more than what she had.

She gave him milk and nursed him to health. 

As his strength grew he began to hate his Mother.

Because of you I was weak said he to his Mother.

But Mother only smiled and apologised for no fault of hers.

Son grew up into with a lot of rage within him.

He wanted to smash and thrash and tear apart everything around him.

But he dint dare say anything outside as he knew he was weak.

So he showed his anger on his Mother, he knew who was meek.

He threatened her, beat her, stole from her and yet society did not intervene.

Mother and Son, why should we interfere they said.

The time was ripe, the neighbourhood Ruffian observed.

The time was ripe to influence Son.

Ruffian’s show of strength impressed the Son.

The recklessness, the inhumanity, the killing power of the Gun.

He wanted one of his own and the Ruffian obliged.

He took it and did the first thing that came to his mind.

He threatened his Mother with it.

Mother saw what had become of Son 

Disappointed she bought a Gun for herself

Not to harm but to protect.

Mother cursed herself for not holding on

On the day he was born.

If only She had held her own that day

Son wouldn't have turned on Mother this way.

Happy Mothers Day to India!!!

A hearty congratulations is in order

As I sit here randomly and aimlessly surfing the internet, more specifically Facebook, I come across one of my (married) schoolmate's status about how she misses the awesomely awesome fun they had.
And you know how Pune is not the same without them and all that drama.
And as expected, the rest of the drill was very obediently carried out by all the other members.

Says the girl who is probably sitting right in Pune next door.
"Aww... m sry dear...i miss you too.. we should all meet..." If you miss her call her up and meet her. You live right next door.
The stud of the group says the ever patented and completely pointless - "Nice. ;)"
The ever popularity hungry girl comments
"What ya... you missed so many people babe... @tag them here just so that they know they were tagged by her which implies she is awesome"
Now come the amazing bollywood-ishtyle Hindi comments
"Tum toh mujhe mat chhod ke jaana..."
Then comes the overly emotional girl
"OMG OMG i miss you guys soooo much...I want to be in India..." If you want to be in India, then fucking be in India.
Tag . Tag. Tag. Tag .
:* :* :* :* :* :* :* and many other smileys with hearts i dont know the shortcut keys for.

The stud of the group says the ever patented and completely pointless - "Nice. ;)"
That sums it up nicely.
And all.

This apparent group of people, I was in school with them.
The guys were general floaters who did not really want to commit to any particular group. They would go to anyone who took them.
They used to fight with each other, tease the shit out of each other, trouble the fuck out of each other, never talk to each other apart from in school, dint even cycle back home together even though they live right next to each other. The guys used to shamelessly flirt and "chance maarro" on these girls.
I have heard the guys make some seriously vulgar comments about the girls.
To top it all, the girls know all of this.
They have bitched about each other a lot.
But then as they say "Schools out, bitch"
More like "Bitch's out , school "

I heartily congratulate them on their new found friendship.

:) ;)

Alone

As we drove through the chilly winds of Mahableshwar, me, my griflriend and two other friends, i didnt imagine a better place to be in.
The proverbial wind in my hair and my girlfriend beside me, it was the best place to be.
We were enjoying the cool breeze and listening cheesy songs.
And as we rounded a turn, i saw him.

He was squatting on a rock on the very edge of the cliff.
He was facing the road and his ragged, tattered clothes fluttered in the ever-growing wind.
His darkened unclean skin suffering the worst of the sun.
His face covered in a thick beard and his dirty discoloured long hair loose on his shoulders.

But what struck me most was the expression on his face.
An expression of apathy.
of sadness.
of fear.
of an impending doom.

An expression with no hope whatsoever.
An expression of complete and total loneliness.

He had no one.
He knew no one and no one knew him.
No one cared about him or for him.

Right there, as i held my girlfriend's hand feeling the greatest feeling a man could ever feel, that man had no one.
At that very spot where i felt most content, he felt bitter, sad, discontent and hopelessness.

He had lost all hope.
A man can deal with finite disappointment.
But infinite.
He was dealing with infinite and unending.
He was completely alone.

It was the most terrifying sight of my life.

"A lonely person was just about the most terrifying spectacle in the world"
- Fromm Reichmann

my dad

we miss those who have passed away
we miss them dearly.
we feel we have been wronged by their death
Yet it is they who have missed out the most.

My dad died 15 years back.
I was 9 years old.
I knew my dad only for 9 years and i miss him.
Coincidently its fathers day today.
its not that i miss him on every fathers day.
and its not that when i miss him today i am crying or something.
Its just something i am used to.
Me and my family miss him and its a constant emotion which doesnt need display.

But i think my dad is the one who missed out on doing so many things he wanted to.
I know very less of my dad.
But i know him enough to know he was all that a man should be and more.
He played sports, had won uncountable golf tournaments, badminton champion.
He was "boxing blue" in his time at the NDA.
He was fondly called "Taat Jaat" because he was maharashtrian so "taatya" which became "Taat" and
had the spirit of a "jaat" fighter.
At age 42 he could do a hand stand.
He was promoted before time always and was doing as well as anyone could in the defence force.

I remember the time we used to go fishing at Jamnagar.
Early sunday mornings we would be off to the river.
Me, my brother my mom and my dad and our very handy man whom we used to call Amra bhaiyya.
Once on one of these trips my mom fell into quicksand and was drowning.
My dad pulled her out and i remember them both being so cool about it all.

I also heard this story about my dad.
Just after being commissioned as an officer, he had come to Pune for his holidays.
He was on his way on his bicycle and had stopped at a signal.
He rested his hand on a rikshaw and balanced himself without touching the ground.
The rikshaw driver got mad seeing this and stepped out and started abusing my dad.
My dad with just arm turned his rikshaw upside down and silently went away.

He used to love driving and hence obviously we did too.
Every year we would go for long family vacations which included a lot of driving.
His Ray-Ban would be out and we would be off bundled into our small and efficient maruti.

My dad has missed out on so much due to his untimely death.
After 22 years of hard work, when he should have been enjoying the fruits of his labour, he cant.
He missed his sons growing up.
His wife becoming the most successful school principal in Pune.
His sons becoming engineers.
His elder son getting married.

I missed him the most when Arjun got married.
I cried that day and it disturbed my mom as i usually never cried in front of anyone.
I am sure he must have missed us too that day.
All of us missed him.
My mom, my brother and me.
But we dint say anything to each other.

Yes, Death wronged us by taking my dad away from us.
But it wronged him much more than it did us.

the saintly flower

As i walked, the snow crunching beneath my feet, the clouds drenching me mercilessly and the wind blowing holes through my face,
i saw it.
bright blue in colour and as little as my little fingernail, a beautiful flower.
It was raining and in sub-zero temperatures the water was cutting through our skins and yet this
flower lay there undisturbed , unperturbed by it all.
I couldnt help but wonder that despite its awe-inspiring fury and its fearsome strength, nature could not help making beautiful
things.
These flowers would have gone unnoticed, but that dint bother nature and it continued to make them.

i touched the flower and it was so delicate that the petals almost got crushed with the force of my fingers.
And yet the rain hadnt bothered it.
It had ,infact ,thrived in the snow.
And yet it will die eventually.
And another would take its place and be just as beautiful as it was.
But it will never replace that flower.
it would never be as important to me as that flower was.

people crib about their lives all the time
i have to walk 5 minutes to the bus stop.
my office is too far.
why is it so hot here.
why do i have to work so much.
i get paid too less.
why doesnt anybody like me.

next time you feel like you are having a tough day, think about the little flower noticed by none, braving
the sun, the snow, the cold, the rain, just to make the world a better and beautiful place.

witness

i read about this room the other day.
some lab in some awesomely rich country created the world's quietest room.
the write up said one could hear own ear making sounds.
yes you read that correctly.
in the complete absence of sound our ear makes sounds to maintain itself.
imagine that.
the write up said that the one could hear his own blood passing through his veins.
powerful ?
no one could survive the room for more than an hour.
the person who did last that one hour felt wobbly after that hour and intensely anxious during that time.

we need sound
we need touch
we need light

we need to be validated

we need to be told that we exist
all the time

we need to feel that we make a difference
we need to feel we count

we need to feel the someone somewhere will be affected if we were to die
we need to feel that someone needs us

we need to feel that someone somewhere thinks about us
we all have a wish that someone watches us as we go about our life

we all need a spectator
we all need a witness to our life.

emotional human?

Pure emotions have always eluded me.

Always have they skirted cross my mind almost within my reach.

Never have they revealed themselves fully to me.

Always shrouded in doubt.

Always enacted, amplified with disdain to its meaning.

Always underplayed with the intention to reveal honesty.

Always shown to evoke a reaction.

 Only once have i seen true emotion.

That which death brings with it.

Not for the benefit of anyone.

Not for the sake of showing the world.

The strongest force on this earth.

Pure emotion.

Emotions have always eluded humans.

Humans with their enhanced capacity to think.

Our capacity to imagine.

Our capacity to understand the effect of emotions.

The fact that we know what effect an emotion can have undermines that we are capable of pure, real, unadulterated emotion.

We can never show emotion without thinking of what effect it would have on the other.

Emotion shown by people is a very filtered much accepted version of their emotion.

We are bound by the civic rules of the society.

We are bound by the laws of the society.

We are bound by our own sensibilities and morals.

We are bound, therefore, by our very own humanness.