Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Independence Day: A Lump in my throat

This special day is once again upon us, swelling our hearts with pride as we try to manoeuvre our way through traffic diversions (to make way for the iconic appearances of our political and bureaucratic bigwigs) amid the loudspeakers blaring out patriotic songs—some of them almost as old as our freedom. There is always a lump in my throat as I bow my head, saluting the national tricolour on this momentous day when India awoke to freedom as the rest of the world slept.

Alas! We seem to have gone back to a deep independence induced slumber, rising bleary eyed occasionally, on days like this one today, and going back to a state of blissful ineptitude for the rest of the year. Independence Day seems to have become like any other special day dedicated to specific causes – Mother’s Day, Teacher’s Day, Doctor’s Day, Environment Day ....the list is endless. But isn’t Independence Day a bit different from all these? Isn’t it a heady combination of all of them and many more? Unless we are efficient administrators, loving parents, dedicated teachers and doctors and responsible, law abiding citizens, we have no right to rejoice in our freedom.

We freed ourselves physically from the much touted tyranny of the British Raj 63 years ago. But we are yet to gain independence from the insensitive and parochial attitude of our own leaders—be they political, religious or social. As long as people are deprived of two square meals a day, the powers-to-be pilfer the natural wealth of country to fill their own coffers in the name of development, women (and men) are killed in the name of family prestige, hatred is fomented in the name of religion, and lawlessness becomes a synonym for power, we cannot call ourselves independent or free.

The India- Pakistan Peace March and candle light processions for solidarity are laudable initiatives of the civil society seeking peaceful solutions to fiery problems. But the ideas of peaceful coexistence propagated by them have to be imbibed in spirit and not be lost as rhetoric. These efforts have to become more than a ritual. They have to become our way of life.

The real freedom of the spirit, which the Mahatma wanted to instil in us, is still eluding us, or perhaps we are yet not strong enough to imbibe it in our thoughts words and actions. Freedom from want and desire may be too tall an order. But at least we can tread this path carefully and remember that ‘My freedom ends where someone else’s begins’. Only if we could try to live by this credo, there would be no female foeticides, no inhuman subjugation of the weak, and no atrocities on innocent citizens.
There is a lot to be proud of, and yet, a lot of shame needs to be wiped off from all around us, the Commonwealth Games notwithstanding.


Sunday, August 8, 2010

Branch X 2KY SAGA

At first I thought to title the draft as the MECHANICAL 2K7 SAGA. But somehow my inner self did lighten up my thoughts and I renamed it to what the copy in your hands read. The reason behind this was simply this is not just about one single branch and also not about one single batch. This thing can happen to anyone. Maybe some of our beloved junior would get so much frustrated with the so incompetent college administration that he might take up some action really drastic. And let you fellahs be warned that even on that day you would be able to do nothing. But one thing that you can be sure of that college administration will issue a threatening notice, as it is used to, addressed to those who come in support for the victim. Also one thing I should tell you is that while writing this I have tried to be as calmed down and tried going really easy. In fact I have written this half heartedly because had I written in my only known verse to me, I am scared I would have ended up in the worst DISCO in this world. Also I would have had shit thrashed out of that pschycic prof. One reason is also I didn’t feel like being booed away by lovely ladies crowd.


I don’t know why everyone in this college is so more familiar with this insane word. Maybe the reason is so obvious.’ There isn’t one’. Had there been any system in the college the so more precious careers of 21 wanna-be-engineers would have been saved. But we just kept running from chambers to chambers and guess what the hideous demons working under the covers of this pet word SYSTEM kept literally humiliating us. One thing that utterly freaks me out that do you go to your HOD, who is supposed to be your first mentor, to hear this lame excuse that “I can’t help”? He somehow forwards your application with so clear goose bumps to the Dean, Academics. And then you have to hear it again. “I wish I could help son”. What the fuck???

The biggest disappointment is the Director. Oh c’mon man you are sitting on an esteemed chair of a DIRECTOR. This is a deemed university. You have all the power in that green ink of yours that is supposed to be used to save the asses of the masses. Especially when you know this prof has deliberately detained the students.

One thing I am most impressed about that prof is that he has shown to us what one single prof can do with your life and how powerful his pen is. And these masked demons of this whole fucked up system (HOD, Dean, Director) have shown what it really means to be a coward. Or in more appropriate terms what it really mean to be incompetent.

I would give them an advice, please step down from your respective chairs if you can hear the voices of your inner soul and it is as dirty as your actions are.



Saturday, August 7, 2010



…As I remember You

I pictured your Gorgeous Eyes looking at me so Passionately,

And Tender, that they whispered to my soul.


…As I remember You

I remembered when your Lips first Oh! so sweetly caressed mine.

And I knew I was in Love.


…As I remember You

I closed my eyes and thanked god for leading me up to you,

And for giving me such a Precious Gift of Love.


…As I remember You

I couldn’t remember a day when I didn’t have You,

Because My Life began when my Heart met Yours.





Sunday, August 1, 2010



“I still feel the same way as I felt earlier, honey. And believe me I have always felt the same and have never tried to play numbers on you.  Will you be mine again? Only if you wish to. You just have to take one step further and trust me.”

And guess what the reply came as spontaneously as it could ever get. “No”, she said in a very known low pitch voice wearing a melancholic smile. It felt like the divine arrow I had shot to pour down the rain of love in my otherwise deserted life was a misfire and in fact had hit me millions times fiercely.

I simply turned back and walked away. Smiling as if consoling myself that it wasn’t me who talked to her. Maybe someone did love her more. I walked out of the mall and took my car and drove as fast as I could. I was smiling may be at myself. OMG I was being a gross. I hated myself for a while but after that it was alright. only for a moment. As it has been for the last eight long years. Not a single day has passed that I haven’t missed her. Not a single achievement of mine has gone celebrated without being shared with her what if only in memories. I still walk with the same passport size photograph of hers in my wallet because I didn’t find anyone better. Its not that I didn’t try. I tried to move on and found going impossible. Every girl I dated was different and of course great. But none of them was like my WONDERGIRL.

I stopped at a place unknown to me. I tried to breathe easy and tried to hide the tears of a clown. Remembering some of the golden days of my life. Every single kiss that set my soul on vibrations, every single glimpse of her majestic beauty that had a aura of its own, every single movie that I saw with her seemed more meaningful, every single moment that we had together was like playing in front of my eyes. The more I tried to console myself more I got entangled in the clutches of her memories. It was like having no way out. I cried as usual as harder as I tried not to.

I decided that there is only one single way to get out of this. I drove harder and rushed to a liquor store at the end of the lane. Took a full JD. And called up some of my closest of pals and told them to come at my place and we would have a blast. Of course I didn’t tell them what exactly happened today as I left sharing things to anybody way back since she left me.

I sometimes ponder over this that I have real high profile job that million people would die for, I have a long smashing car which is high on the wish-list of anyone, I have a big house, I have a number of friends and some of then are really true fellahs. But still why I miss having that special some one.

Anyway I was on my way back home. The speedometer ticked as fast as it could. This song of Rehat Fateh Ali khan ‘ KINNA SOHNA TENU RAB NE BANAYA, JI KARE WEKHDA RAWA…’…..was playing on full volume.

The more I tried to run faster the more I felt being ensnared in her memories. OMG what is happening to me. Why am i shivering



I wish my epitaph read,