Sunday, September 16, 2012

A song for the past princess



The golden sun settled beneath the sky;
as I sat down to write
The gentle breeze and the distant stars
joining hands for the night.
In the symphony of the rustling leaves,
memories sprang back to life
Stranger, strange, I see the crescent moon
spreading its silver light.

The cookies gone, times spent
In the wilderness of the fortnight
Crushed and blossomed, who could guess?
Where the rain would fall?
Quietness made from the beat,
to face the desire of the heart
Time flies but not the thoughts
Destined to meet in the centre

City of joy, into the darkness of the eye
Obnoxious without the obvious
Café of masala right before the eyes
Double edged sword and the pun
Up the hill figuring out the wall
You too, me and tom the Brutus way
Unique in its own way, corner of the roads
The ride through the life’s journey

The day came when I was called
Line to be logged in the conversation
The new broom sweeps well
As the saying goes from the past
The more of the time it took
The better it got, as against the word
Dusk merges seamlessly into the night
Crushed but bud blossoms into the flower.

The evening of the Italy’s night, the prince
And the princess hand in hand
Upset what was sang, I am left behind
Promise of tomorrow kept in mind
The crowded streets soon deserted
On the couch of double solitude
The touch of Greek god left his mark
The Cat buried into the honey’s dew

The bell, a bell was there to see you
Fate decides, the second day unlucky
Further to the north the food was served
Too high for the standards set
At nine with thirty and four at sixty
The road took through the old and the east
Again and again, the snow melting down the peak
Ended in the history of Alexander square

The end of the routine, deaf dumb and signs
Held again, again in the company
The later the night became cold and dark
Contrast talks in the hours of sleep
Joy last for a while, and so does burst of rain
Love’s burst interchanged for the prince
The princess though was more pristine
As the first drops of dew on the leaves

Clandestine thoughts, the heart will beat
But to the world cannot be uttered
The day dawns, one fine day the in decisiveness
The firmness of the mind s heart
After the showers, the drizzle still to cease
That concludes the conclusion to be made
That the gentle and a woman’s promise
Will be kept by the prince for his life

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

WAR AND RELIGION




I am sitting at the eighth floor of my office with a faith that the floor will hold me and I believe that I will not fall right through it. Without this faith on the object (Floor) and belief I would not enter the office. But this faith might not hold good at all times. The building might collapse, there could be an earthquake. But my personal experience let me know that 99 out of 100 times my faith holds good. We can extrapolate the same ideas into religion. Seldom have you come across a religious person who holds every religion as his own. Even an Atheist is religious but that he believes in one less a religion than you.

With the exceptions noted above, when someone who holds a belief so ardent and thinks that the others who do not hold the same beliefs and faith are wrong, then that belief becomes his religion. May be we can say that a particular religion, comprises of people holding the same belief that who do not have their belief are wrong and all other set of beliefs are to be condemned since they do not accept it.

When we travel through History, we can establish that religion had a part in many of the wars that killed millions of people. But if we rationally analyze, most wars have political or economic ramification (land acquisition, looting of wealth, control of strategic places, trade routes, dynasty changes, position of power). The Crusades between Islam and Christian, the thirty years war and the French war of religion between Protestants and Catholics, the holocaust against the Jews, and every other war had religion connected with it.
As Jack David Eller states- “Religion and violence are clearly compatible, but they are not identical. Violence is one phenomenon in human (and natural existence), religion is another, and it is inevitable that the two would become intertwined. Religion is complex and modular, and violence is one of the modules - not universal, but recurring. As a conceptual and behavioral module, violence is by no means exclusive to religion. There are plenty of other groups, institutions, interests, and ideologies to promote violence. Violence is, therefore, neither essential to nor exclusive to religion. Nor is religious violence all alike... And virtually every form of religious violence has its nonreligious.

What we need deduce is that in war of any nature, if religion is brought into the equation it translates into the masses and the common man who belongs to a particular religion identifies himself with his group having identical set of beliefs. Religion is an effective vehicle to instigate the masses and in India people at power use it as an instrument to get into power. I do not need to give you examples as I would be running out of pages. Ayodhya Conflict, Operation Blue Star, Kashmir, North East turbulence and even when you study a religion there will be sects within itself and differences exist.

Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by the rulers as useful. — Edward Gibbon

"Without religion, we'd have good people doing good things, and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion." -Stephen Weinburg

All religion advocates peace and love, the religious leader’s claims so. So why is religion a factor in war at all when all the main faiths have little time for violence and advocate peace? "In great contests, each party claims to act in accordance with the will of God. Both may be, but one must be wrong because God cannot be for and against himself.

Imagine the following case, a baby is born to a Hindu couple at a hospital and inadvertently the baby gets interchanged with that of a Christian couple at the same hospital. He grows up in an environment having certain beliefs, attending church. He is a Christian. But religion is decided on to which family you were born or more placidly if you are born into a group believing something you tend to start believing the same, as right from your childhood it is forced on you or rather you grow up accepting those faith. When you question them you are called an atheist. As Ernest Hemmingway puts it all thinking men are atheist.
Most of the religion tells you what would happen to you after your death. It talks about hell, heaven, punishment, judgment day and such other gloomy doctrines that no religion teaches you to appreciate the joy of living. I have observed that the older people gets they become more religious. I suppose religion prepares you for after life. I remember the times when my mother used to scare me saying “If you tell a lie God will make you blind” and I believed her when I was 6. I was afraid of lying. But I lied once and was scared to death that night that I might go blind. To my surprise I was able to see perfectly the next morning. I realized my mum used it as a means to teach me good morals and the means in itself is not true. Similarly religion is an instrument to enforce morals, discipline and system in a society. When you look at it rationally you would understand that religion is nothing more than a set of faith and beliefs that were invented to enforce morals. The problem with religion is that it never adapted itself to human advancement and is completely out of date.

I know a lot of people who says I believe and respect all religion and in that case they treat all religion equally. It implies that they don t discriminate between religions which more or less equals to believing in no religion as an infidel you would treat everyone the same irrespective of their religion. Imagine a hypothetical situation; where there is only one religion, I guess there would be lesser hatred and differences among the mankind. Many would argue to kill for the right reason is not wrong. Even in mythologies and religious scriptures there had been instances of good prevailing over the evil and God killing the demon and lot of violence in religious history and mythology. People would say a tiger killing its prey is not wrong. Absolutely, I agree but I have never heard of a tiger killing another tiger because it believes in another set of principles.

Religion is a delusion which instead of promoting harmony is magnifying the differences and if people fall prey to it the history would repeat itself, men killing men in the name of religion which is the most irreligious act of all human deeds. I end this with a quote by G. B Shaw.The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Religion




Of all that ever been said and done,
Nothing more vicious did man endure,
Blinded by worship; blurred by faith
Piety,what pity! his beliefs so obscure.

Of all the battles ever fought and won
Lone enemy, it could never defeat
Had 'reason' been the reason then, Lives
Would have not met premature death

Of all the times he preached and sang,
Did as he would have been done by;
Conceived notions; Blatant imbecility
Averse, for truth makes it a blatant lie.

Of all that had been left behind,
Religion - odious , heinous and vile
To what religion and faith does He belong ?
For he belongs to the loving and kind.







Sunday, October 10, 2010

Crushed


I walk the road alone lost in my thoughts
Where will it lead, the beginning or the end?
I look up; the white clouds start to wander
Destination it knows not, my companion
Deserted footpath filled with withered leaves
Many a wounded heart stumbled upon
The stream flows, whispering words of comfort
However it trudges, it can never go back in time
The scented flower buds spread its fragrance
A day after, lifeless crushed onto the ground
I placed the crushed petals between my palms
I walked back, there was a thunder storm
Memories of the journey keeps flooding back
It will, till buried beneath the crushed flower.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Inevitable


INEVITABLE

I know it’s inevitable that you have to leave
Without you, somehow I should learn to live
How could I kill those memories you left behind
The moments buried under the sands of time
I am happy and I smile a thousand tears
I shout and you can t even hear a word
It hurts to know you can never be mine
And I should carry on as if all is fine
You well know All I want is to be with you
But you walk away from me bidding adieu
I try to move on but the thoughts keep flooding back
Of the times we spend holding each other’s hand
Time would change and time would heal
but can it ever mend the broken wings?
All I wish now is for you to be happy always
Unbroken promise, now we can part ways.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Celebrating the Downfall




Not many a time I would celebrate a downfall but I would now as what was supposed to be a gentlemen's game was refashioned into a lucrative investment avenue by a mercenary business man with the patronage of a some eminent personalities. Never had I thought that this game that had united the entire nation, the game that is every Indian's religion would asunder the emotions of the people who once cheered the very player whom he now lampoons.

If at all someone who has never played music all his life would become the maestro of an orchestra the resultant music would be a mess but I found it amusing when someone who had never played cricket in his life for that matter even "tennis ball street cricket' ( oongli cricket does not count) was credited with infusing life to the game and raising the bars to a new level. And I have to admit I was nonplussed at the speech when he claimed that he had realized his dream of having a league that the whole world envies. May be I have to say his dream is fulfilled for it filled the coffers of those who was expecting returns out of it.

And to recollect the past, IPL was devised to bury ICL form the centre stage (they say it is his brain child, I suppose plagiarizing is what they meant). In fact the Board was generous enough to ban those who played for ICL for ICL was not cricket and it did not make those administrators richer by a penny. I suppose the Haryana Hurricane should take a leaf out from him and should devise something that would bring mercenary gains rather than the upliftment of the game.

I have to celebrate IPL because it has turned cricket into an X box mode where all it matters is to bludgeon the white leather into the stands. The skill, technique, patience, endurance and class that made this game alluring had made way to might, aggression, power and madness. If there would be another IPL in this year, I am afraid that the turbanator would be nothing less of a bowling machine that fires in all the Yorkers, I suppose Zaheer would forget you can make the ball move either ways, Ishanth would forget the term “beaten". And to make things worse, Yuvraj would watch his cover drives only on highlights, Dhoni would qualify for American Baseball league, Suresh Raina would label all parts of the ground as mid wicket.

A special thanks him for we are able to see the axe effect even between the deliveries. I am overjoyed that IPL did not come up with the idea of airing advertisement after the bowler had release the ball and before it reaches the batsman. I guess if he had been there for few more months the broadcasting rights would be auctioned and a particular franchise has to make space for advertisement loge even on their jockeys. (I guess they can sport logos on the ball as well and so every time they show replays the impoverished league could earn some more bucks)

I am not as philanthropic as him but to overlook the positives. When you realize that the league donates a huge sum to NGO s at the end of every match you wonder whether that it is because that NGO was associated with one of the franchise's related party. And I place the stress on the term "huge sum" because what is being donated is more than half of what the league generates as revenue.

It’s true that many have become overnight stars but I doubt whether they can stay there even for a while. I ponder whether the master would have played with stitches in his hand if not for the pressure from the franchise owners. I question the way they accommodate the matches as every season there would be at least 10 cricketers who would miss national duty. I suppose the administrators abhorred the terms 'six' and 'catch' for they substituted them with more meaningful and much needed "maximum' and "kamal". (May this is what he meant by developing the game to new standards" Well done I must confess)

And I appreciate the fact that few cricketers have become non-residents because they want more income as the league pays them in meager 8 digit numbers. In spite of the entire shortcoming, the only negatives I could state are some of the players who never change with the developments of the game. Sachin would still play his leg glance and Rahul would be brave enough to play a copy book cover drive in the penultimate over yet branded unfit for the format of the game that requires you to sway your bat when the ball is bowled.

I must stop praising him for I am running out of words. Gone are the days when an Indian spinner’s dip and flight was described to that of the magician who has a rope tied to the ball and when the batsman was about to play, he pulls it back with the string. If one cannot enjoy the 350 ball century by Mark Richardson or the Marathon effort of Rahul or the mesmerizing reverse swing of Simon Jones or the seducing strokes of Mark Waugh or the match saving 10 hour grind of Gautam Gambhir they do not deserve to enjoy the class of the little master, the artistry of the great wall or the elegance of the Bengal tiger. All they deserve is the might and madness of the game which once encased fine intricasies. If I decide to not to be harsh I would say Test cricket was seducing, One day was romantic and T20 was in the middle.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Thank you for the day.



I took my steps, I wasn't sure
did she mean those words?
But soon after, I realized
It was a different world
She kept her vow, I wonder how;
indeed she was a free bird.
I was overjoyed, But to the world
It might seem absurd.

She came down with her usual bag
sporting the ever gorgeous black
zones of comfort to the scorching heat
with a smile I did greet
Hot, I thought to me; her or the sun?
besides me, we were on the run
‘Throttling through’ needs some fine art?
we reached, it was about to start.


I ve been there not once but twice
Even for the third it seemed so nice,
Every moment of his torture and blood
"Sensitive" I opined, tears she shed;
"Empty chairs" I said and the silver screen
At break we bought corn and coffee cream
We decided to count what we took between us
In the end we made a complete mess.

Sunshine again and I asked for a pretty click
Shy she felt but she demanded quick
"Fine" I said, But She thought otherwise
She offered again for a compromise
It led to the lake on the other side
Azure swirls, thrilled by the swift ride
She walked twice across the fountains nearby
She stood, the background clear blue sky


She badly wanted, the place of "All knowing"
above the city through the narrow lanes
The white marbles, made to feel like a thug
Enjoying the evening breeze through the windowpane
Lost Direction, Eventually reached the second home
The silver moon rose but the day did not end
The bride was yet to be seen, we went for the stars
Exclusively thrown out, center stage, I felt bizarre

The one before us was keen on the sizzling attraction
She commented and I believed to be a distraction
I could sense the atmosphere, pretense and intense
She was sure "I would enjoy the first experience"
Did I? I loved it. Was it her or the curvaceous women?
It was the unending conversations, every now and then
The clock was an hour away from striking twelve
Freeze, I wished, immersed in the sublime spell.

Plans but it ended up with pasta, milk and capsicum
Someday, Sometime, She wanted us to come home
The beauty of life, ambiguity, I ask “will it ever happen?”
No answers, I wish it would, again and again
Anything, anywhere, anytime, for her I owe
For her kind act and her pristine love
Thanks a lot,the dear would soon depart,
Thanking you from my heart, to me it means a lot.