STRANGE BED-FELLOWS

Every morning

on my way to office

I meet him.

Every morning

on his way to office

he meets me.

Neither have I

nor has he nurtured

a desire to develop

a friendship with me.

Perhaps

like me

he too doesn’t have

nursed a longing for

a sentimental

relationship to work out

in these strange times

in our strange world

where intimacy has

not much of a meaning.

Once

while I was

in the midst of intimate friends

never, ever in my wildest of dreams

had I thought

about plunging into

the city life where

a life of living

among strange fellows

awaited me.

The rapport I

did cultivate among my

village friends

no more exists

in the city

and I will have to

learn to live with

 my loneliness as

long as I tread along the

streets of the metropolis.

Intimacy, sincerity

and love are something

we can’t afford to purchase

since they are too expensive

and rare in the city.

  

THE WITNESS

Two youths, both burly

came out of a prostitute’s house

late into the night.

The glimmering

stars and full moon

woven out a pretty 

saree for the land.

But for them 

the thick solid

darkness would have

gulped the land

like a python swallowing its victim.

The youths, both sturdy

were walking ahead

in an elevated mood

both cracking wits.

Comfortably seated in a

chair close to the window sills

with curiosity shining in my eyes.

I was watching

them walk the talk.

In an unexpected moment

like a bolt from the blue

each lost his temper

and their pent up emotions burst out

and one of them dared to

slap the other on his cheeks.

All hell broke loose and with the speed of

lightning the other youth took out his dagger

and in a fit of fury  

thrust his weapon

on the other  

several times forcing the victim

fall on the floor.

He thru the dagger away

and melted

into the thin air?

Whether I alone

was the mute witness to the tragedy?

No idea, I couldn’t

sleep that night and

the nights after.

The tragic event

continue s to haunt me

even after months.

UNWANTED EXISTENCE

In my garden of pretty flowers

how come this unwanted thorny plant

sans flowers

like the unrequited love

of a ditched lover?

In this garden of life

I often feel myself

an unwanted existence

like many others

who outnumber the

wanted existence.

THE MIND

Raphael,

on looking straight into your eyes 

I notice a turbulent, violent sea

and your gloomy, cloudy face.

Raphael,

what has gone wrong

with you?

You were not like this once.

Your eyes were calm and

quiet, serene and tranquil once

that reflected on your face and eyes.

You were a handsome youth

with enormous pleasure

you were talkative with

a pleasant smiling face

eloquent and often used

to say life is worth enjoying

while you were flanked by us.

You often cracked jokes

and made us happy

and elevated our sagging spirits.  

You didn’t have any love-affair,

you didn’t believe in romance either

and therefore a girl had no place in your life.

For you

romance was a mockery

and admonished us to

keep away from romantic relationships .

Raphael,

what transpired in your life

after a lapse of five years

something, somewhere had gone awry

and what might be that ‘something’?

Like a tortoise

withdrawing into its shell

you too have turned

a hermit like a tortoise

and has found

solace into your shell.

Raphael,

once what you hated

most was loneliness

and now you have fallen

in love with the

same loneliness and monotony.

Like seasonal changes

you have evolved into

a strange species.

Raphael,

come out of your shell for good

and mingle with us , your old friends

and enter the mainstream

enter this world

and be that old Raphael

once again.

NOTHING BUT THAT

A middle-aged man

sits alone in the garden

with a train of thoughts

hooting past his brain.

Oblivious of the full moon

and stars, scent of flowers

traffic on a mad rush

a large number

of crowds, cool, warm wind

blowing from the faraway Arabian Sea

the middle-aged man

sits alone in the garden.

In his prime

he was not alone in the garden.

She was with him

like a shadow every evening

whose proximity lifted his

spirits up to skies

who taught him

the sweetness of love

who gifted him the sweetness of love

who shared romantic feelings

pain, sorrow and secrets

occasional cracking of jokes with him

the moments of sharing 

each other’ feelings

he thought there was a

meaning to life.

They felt kind of

relief in each other’s life

with no train of thoughts

blaring past their life.

A man sits alone in the garden.

‘If and when we are

separated from each other

if and when  a moment

of bidding goodbye

what would be your

response’ – though looking

pleasant, he could see

spring of tears  flowing

down her face.

A kind of ill-omen

he could sense in her words.

Tremors seemed like

running down his body.

‘No, No, No, I won’t ever

let such a possibility

happen, I am sure we are

destined to be together’.

He couldn’t imagine

such a scenario ever.

All said and done

one day without waving

her hands and with an

invited smile she vanished

from him.

The next day she didn’t

come to him.

With gloomy face, with

tears coursing down his face

he waited, waited and waited

for a prolonged time.

For a long time, he couldn’t

visit the garden, he didn’t

visit the garden.

Ever since she disappeared

from his life

his face turned gloomy  

with the train of thoughts blaring past his brain.

Look

a man in his middle-age sits alone in the garden

fondling those days

he spent with her

nothing but that….nothing but that.

   

FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS

The city is in a festive mood

all cities across the land

are in a festive ambience.

Like a celebrity and his family

getting ready for celebrating

Festival of Lights

the city too is

decked up for the celebrations

two or three months in advance.

With the daylight clearing way

for the approach of Sunset

city transforms

into a dazzling beauty.

Like caparisoned elephants

lined up with coloured bulbs

on both sides of the streets

twinkling, twinkling and twinkling

the sky-scrapers

look like a magic world.

Citizens enter the city

from different places 

walking or in their vehicles

park their vehicles

close to the foot paths

some get into

 textile shops, hotels, bakeries

all full to the brim

still the flow of

citizens never stops.

Vehicles ply along to and fro

hooting horns

the noises of the citizens

get drowned amidst the cacophony.

The streetlights open their eyes

take bath in the frothing milky lights

the signals red and green

shine intermittently

give silent commands to the vehicles

either to stop or move ahead

the city turns into a

charming beauty with cool breeze

flowing from somewhere to embrace the city

to enchant them.

Children buy crackers

parents purchase

colourful clothes for them

and for children.

They enter the city hotels

order the hotel-waiters

to bring them this and that

and engage in talking to each other.

They reluctantly, yes reluctantly

drove down the streets

to reach their ‘nests’.

But city is a city

none has any friends

none likes to keep friendships.

The sense of alienation

one feels in the city

is but unbearable

yet they continue

remain aliens

that is what is

a city in its true colour.

THE PET

Two weeks ago

our next door neighbours

went on a vacation tour

to Tanjore, their native land

about three hundred kilometers away.

Their beautiful

snow white pomeranian

their protector

drove down leaving him alone.

Like a desert plant

he groaned and moaned

for their proximity

to vent his pain

frustration, anger and  helplessness.

In a sense

his protectors were 

dumping him in the

lurch

like people

dumping their waste

in a waste-treatment plant.

They could have

entrusted the immediate neighbour

and pleaded for taking care

of their pet till they

came back from Tanjore.

The dog continued to howl,

groan and nark 

with hunger turning painful and unbearable.

At last with patience

reaching rock bottom

he went out

walked down the street

with no destination in mind.

The neighbours came

back after a fortnight

but to their embarrassment

and despair

he was nowhere there

‘Jimmy Jimmy ‘ – they cried

aloud with no takers for

their remorse and pain palpable on their faces.

They prayed God to bring him back

but their God never cared

to listen to their prayers.

With them resigned to fate

with their faces turning

dark and cloudy

they took no food

for three to four days

pondering over

the pet who never came back.

LITTLE, LITTLE GOLDEN SUNS

With thick darkness engulfing

the village

you little golden suns

emitting golden rays

assume the roles of

golden kings

coming out of your

safe havens you spend in the

bright daylight.

It is a visual feast

watching you little

little golden kings

roaming far and wide

up and down, around

the woods and over the

vast fields

often entering the

rooms resting over

our bodies, then flying

above dancing

like angels

until time trickles

away

seconds after seconds

minutes after minutes

hours after hours

clearing the path for

emerging silvery sun

pervading the entire land.

You little golden kings

slowly beat a retreat to

your safe hide-outs until

the next darkness envelops the city.  

FINAL SOLUTION

In the short hours of

the morning

the knock on the door

awoke her from deep sleep.

Reluctantly, slowly

with her frowning forehead 

with her drowsy eyes

with a lukewarm attitude  

she opened the door.

He with his brief-case hanging

from one hand

standing on unsteady legs

without caring to have a look at her

entered the room

wobbled along

threw the brief-case in a

corner of the mattress

threw himself on the mattress

without changing clothes.

The nauseating odour of the

liquor pervaded the room

which forced her to go

directly to the window and to let cool breeze flowing in.

Memories flew back

she was reflecting the yester years

when they were enjoying the honeymoon days

and with the cheerful days over

when the euphoria of honeymoon ended

he started coming late

into the night inebriated.

With tears in her eyes

she pleaded with him

not to be a slave of liquor

not to reach the house

late into the night

not to hurt her tender mind.

She shed tears

she doled out advices aplenty

she squabbled and remained without talking each other

two to three days together

she spent her days without taking food.

She sat drowsing in the

shade of table-lamp

until his arrival

yet he didn’t care

the needling pain piercing

the inner walls of her heart.

His attitude and approach

gradually created a chasm

which widened and widened

day by day.

Her heart brimming

with anger and hatred towards

the man

whom she declined to call her husband

and now

they are two isolated

islands under the same roof.

She knows very well in her 

mind that the days of

final separation are

a matter of days….

FURY

Long, long, long ago

Far, far, far away

a land fell into the

lap of a tumultuous, vast dark sea one day

with the sun, moon and

stars taking compulsory leave.

A cyclonic storm with

the speed of mythical ‘Hanuman’

penetrated the interiors of the land

wreaking havoc all its way ahead

communication and power-supply lines snapped

trees uprooted

taking away small, small, small houses and huts

coastal areas shattered

sheets of waves

one after another

rising metres high

lashed the land

torrential rains hit the land

for days together

devastating the crops

with people confined to their houses

terror running down their spines

many did succumb to the

nature’s fury despite precautions abound.

The land literally

floated in the  sea for days together

with no sign of end to

the nightmare.

LIFE OF RHYTHMLESS RHYTHMS

Storing her tears in the

jar of miseries

she often longs for a day

she could laugh heartily

like in her childhood days.

Weaving smiles she gifts warm 

smiles when she happens to

be in the company of those

dear to her

keeping all her needles of pains

piercing her heart at bay

and keeps with her these artificial smiles.

In the dead of nights

remaining sleepless and  restless

she lies beside her son

deep in sound sleep

with her eyes gone moist

recounting the short span

of delightful days

in her life.

Others must be thinking

often feeling jealous of

her how much happy she is.

They know not

fame and wealth alone do not

lift a famous danseuse

to the heights of eternal

glory and cheer.

INTERVALS

After locking the windows and doors

giving the temporary ownership

of our house 

to the thick, solid, frozen darkness

with bowed heads we

slowly moved to the taxi

waiting outside.

Like a lover turning back waving his

hands to his dear with

a lump in his throat

we too waved our hands

toward the house with tears

flowing down our faces.

The house stood like an orphan

deserted by his loved ones.

After a prolonged journey

to the distant city

we knew not when would

we return to the deserted house

open the doors and windows

evacuate the darkness

to let warm winds and

bright light at least for a while,

only to wave our

hands toward the

orphaned house once in a while

till we become permanent

city dwellers.

OUR DREAMS

Since eras we are

waiting for our reunion.

Though I know where you are

though you know where I am

the invisible wall separating us

plays the stumbling block

holding our buds of

blooms from blossoming.

Still we keep aflame

dreams with our wide, shining eyes.

Sadly we know not

the D-day of our

ultimate reunion.

SMOKE-SCREEN

Behind the smoke screen of

many a dark evil, a number of

pretexts, lies and hypocrisies play their shadow play.

The dark clouds of smoke-screens 

make a disappearing act

with the sun of truths

piercing them.

The occasional plays of

dark clouds of smoke-screens and

emergence of the sun of truths continue their games

and play their roles without intervals.

Life is a painting in dark

and bright colors on a wider

canvas on which the entire

picture of good and bad reflects….

MEMORIES

Though you are no longer

on the face of the earth

your number is very much alive

in my cell-phone.

The very thought of deleting

your number from it is

beyond my imagination, dear friend.

Like two friends after spending

hours together

one day you walked out of

my life without bidding bye

though you were well aware of

the bitter truth that

even a remote possibility

of reunion here on

this earth existed not.

Dear friend, even just a

few minutes ago

while ‘browsing’ through the

cell-phone

I came across your number

looked at it recounting

our pleasant, cheerful talks

over our cell-phones four hours.

No, how can I wipe out

your name from my memories?

THE REINS

I can let you free as long as I like

of course with your reins firmly in my hand.

I can let you free as long as I like

with your reins firmly in my hand

and let you wander thru unknown

lands and forests like

a horse roaming through

unknown lands and forests.

I can let you free as long as I like

with your reins firmly in my hand and

I can’t let you pull on like a life-convict

in my prison for an

unlimited period or for ever.

I can’t ever think of letting

you free for ever without

your reins firmly in my hand

since I am certain that

you will turn a Frankenstein Monster

the moment I let you free….

NARENDRA MODI’S DAMAGE POTENTIAL AND A REVOLTING ADVANI

Whether Mr.L.K.Advani bows to the wishes of the mediators or the dictates of Sangh Parivar in the end, whether the scar effected on him by the painful decision of the present leadership of Bharatiya Janata Party, his inability to come to terms with the shock and pain is unlikely to leave him till the very end of his life. Whether he cherished the dream of contesting to the chair of Prime Ministership in 2014 or whether it was because of his premonition that in the event of Narendra Modi coming to power it would cause the ultimate disintegration of the party, the fact is he is bitterly against Mr.Modi coming to power.

It is often shocking and embarrassing that Mr.Advani whose contributions to the party as the architect of it can never be forgotten. Party’s second -rung leaders trying to wipe out his contributions as the senior-most leader of the party once and instead running gaga after Mr.Modi is, put it mildly a curse as well as a black humour.

The generation next might not be aware of what all are the reasons behind Advani’s greatness, are naturally euphoric over the next Prime Ministerial candidature of Mr.Modi in 2014 which is only a few months away from now. They should have been enlightened by the elder leaders over who Advani is which they never cared to do so for reasons best known to them.

On what basis, the second-rung as well as the new generation leaders are going euphoric over the ultimate selection of Mr.Modi by the Parliamentary Board whose ability to cause social and communal polarization which could prove disastrous to the party in the long run, if not in the short run is best known to the secular parties. Whether he could bring Hindus and Muslims under one umbrella with the stigma of 2002 Gujarat Massacre sticking to him even after a lapse of 11 years is something worth worrying about. One embarrassing truth that lingers in the minds of laymen as well as political observers is Mr.Modi has not cared to offer any apology to the affected community.

It is claimed that he could change the sad face of Gujarat for the better by initiating several measures across the State hiding a bitter truth from many that poverty is widespread centered around rural areas especially the interior Saurashtra. The ones  who have benefitted most are business and industrial tycoons. He should have begun from bottom-up which he did not like his ‘big counterpart’ sitting in the saddle at Delhi, none other than Sardar ManMohan Singh. Consequently none has succeeded in lowering the poverty graph.

BJP choosing Mr.Modi as the Prime Ministerial candidate of 2014 which is only months away from now without taking into account his damage potential as an adept master in instigating communal and social polarization is known both to, the now ailing Atal Bihari Vajpayee, former Prime Minister and Mr.Advani who is in the sunset of his life.

That must be the reason behind Mr.Advani’s reluctance to wave green signal to the party in proceeding with Mr.Modi as the head of NDA. With Mr.Modi at the head it is an open question lingering in the minds of many including common citizens as well as political experts that how many coalition partners are willing to swim with BJP.

The only silver lining is that the United Progressive Alliance is also in a bad shape without an efficient leader to lead from the front. Will Rahul Gandhi come up to the expectations with him always backtracking from responsibilities whenever such situations warrant?

Moreover, with the incumbent govt moving in the wrong track especially with - related to its economic policies, the fate of the country hangs in balance…..       

BLESSED DEVOTEE

With her eyes closed

her palms folded across her chest

she stood before the

Goddess of Music

eulogizing her

in her mellifluous voice everyday.

The Goddess of music

sitting on a white

lotus flower with halo around her head

in the middle of  the pond

with full of white lotus flowers

around her in the pond

playing her Veena  

on listening to her ethereal music

blessed Her devotee profusely

by raising both Her hands on a fine morning

thus made Her devotee’s ethereal

music eternal….

TWO FACES

Every morning

we come to you

enjoy your infinite beauty

and your serene, tranquil ambience.

Every morning

we come to you

and get locked in your cool, warm ambience 

which lifts our spirits up to the sky

and make our moments exhilarating.

Every morning

we come to you

spend long moments with you

and with deep pain and agony

bid bye to you

with the promise of meeting you

the next morning.

Every evening

visitors in droves come to you

to witness the orange-red Sun

being swallowed by you gradually

to witness your fiery, frightening face

the violent cries of the

waves rocking the shores

the reckless winds blowing through your nostrils

as if to scare away the visitors

who are bathed in the frothing

yellow light sneaking into

the sea-shore from the

sodium-vapour lamps enveloping the city.

We do wonder

why your fierce, frightening face

why the strong winds blowing

through your nostrils

why violent waves rocking

the sea-shores

are more inebriating and

enchanting for the evening

visitors….

POSTPONED VERDICT

Each passing moment was

like heavy burden over

their shoulders

patience was like a fire-test

for each of them

memories of their murdered

daughter flashed past their

eyes glimmering, more and more glimmering

tears like water falls

were flowing down their 

eyes on recalling the

fateful day their beloved

was raped and killed

their prolonged waits

for the day of the verdict

was about to end that day

and their hearts beating

like trumpets for the crucial moment

but on listening to

the postponement of

the verdict for another day sunk them

in grief and despair….

ONENESS

In your glance

I feel the bottomless depth of your love,

In your lap,

I feel the deep sense of safety.

In your lips

I taste the sweetness of life.

In your whispers.

I listen to the music of streams flowing

in their anklets tingling, tingling.

In you I melt

In me you melt

and experience the

sublime happiness of oneness.

INTERMITTENT VIOLENT COMMUNAL CLASHES ACROSS INDIA

Communal organizations owing allegiance to political parties like Bharatiya Janata PARTY (BJP), Samajwadi Party (SP), BahujanSmaj Party(BSP),and Bharatiya  Kisan Union(BKU) were running amok in the outskirts of Musafar Nagar city of Uttar Pradesh  aiming each others’ throat since the last two days. As an after math of which 38 persons were already dead, many more were in waiting with the volatile situation seemed like no sign of abetting in spite of army columns and paramilitary forces had entered the scene. In North Indian States communal clashes are not a new phenomenon, they occur intermittently, but they often die down with the intervention of police. After a long interval clashes of such a huge magnitude were happening again in UP. The clashes reared its ugly head on September 7 soon after a Maha Panchayat was organized  by certain political parties in the outskirts of Musafar Nagar. The flames of communal clashes with in no time enveloped the city killing at least 21 citizens on the very first day which suddenly spread like wide fire in the entire city. If no strong arm measures were forthcoming, it was certain that the situation would go out of control. The expression of shock and grief was okay from the part of those at the helm affairs, but in addition to it, they should have seen to it that the situation was brought under control at the earliest. A number of families fearing repercussions fled the area with their kith and kin leaving their belongings. If the fire of communal violence was set to swallow the entire State the concerned authorities would have been squarely blamed. Some political leaders belonging to different political parties  upon hearing  the news, were in a mad rush to reach Musafar Nagar  knowing fully well that the intervention  at such a volatile situation would set off an alarm  which could trigger the panic button. Anyhow the govt took all measures not to allow them to reach the hot-bed of communal clashes. Leaders of BJP, SP, BSP and BKU were taken into custody for whipping up communal sentiments.

It is shameful that communal clashes are still gripping India .even while we do claim to have achieved much progress since we gained independence six and half decades ago. Even otherwise but for a lot of tall talks of a fast developing country, what all are left we have to harp on?

LOVE-BIRDS

Love birds four. All in a cage

they can’t fly afar

we have found a safe haven for them

where they find life comfortable

and worth enjoying.

They need food and water

and we provide them

like we feed our own children.

Sometimes they play,

sometimes they squabble,

sometimes they play pranks,

but they never turn violent.

It is a treat to watch them

playing and squabbling over little,  little things.

They believe in equality

they believe in harmony

they feed one by one

they drink one by one.

Their life is safe in the cage.

Every day we watch them

playing, chirping often talking to each other

in their own language.

Love-birds  are love-birds

wherever they are

what they want most is

safety from cats, dogs and snakes

since they can’t fly afar……

ESTEEMED CUSTOMER

Clumsily dressed Chakki came to

Nair’s Hotel every morning.

Clumsily or shabbily attired

she did have sufficient funds in her hand

and was always welcome

to Nair’s hotel as an esteemed customer.

Each day

Chakki did have a lavish

delicious breakfast

and made ready payment.

What mattered was money,

money and money

and nothing else.

On a fine morning

she came as usual to Nair’s hotel

enjoyed a tasty, mouth-watering breakfast

and made her payment by

handing over an outdated lottery ticket

and extended a wide smile at Nair, the proprietor.

‘What is this?

‘Lottery ticket’……?

-A shaken Nair stared at her gritting his teeth.

‘Yes, your son gave it to me last night’ uttering these words

Chakki smiled all the way to her hut

A shell-shocked Nair

unable to face the customers in front of him

hung his head in shame.

The customers in front of him

tried in vain to suppress a big laughter.         

US CONGRESS MEETS TODAY TO DISCUSS SYRIAN CRISIS

US Congress is meeting today to discuss the ongoing Syrian crisis dragging on since more than two years killing more than 100000 Syrians. More than 20 lakh Syrian citizens have already fled the country to neighbouring countries fearing for their life. A malevolent dictator in the name of Bashar-Al-Assad inspite of all these developments stick on to his position like a leech drawing the blood of its victim. If he did have an iota of conscience he would have either stepped down in the face of severe opposition from his own subjects or prepared for a compromise satisfying or agreeable to all. Instead the bloodhound that he is, is on a manhunt to bring to silence the entire opposition. He seems like following in the foot-steps of his wicked father Hafeed Al Sayed who too was a brutal autocrat, to perpetuate his father’s legacy.

True, with US Congress set to meet today amidst apprehensions among a cross-section of nations about the dire consequences in the event of a US bombardment. Countries including India have warned US of the unpredictable consequences which could lead to a ‘Third World War’.

A blood-bath could be avoided if Russia and China, two permanent members of UN Security Council had taken the initiative along with US, Britain and France, the other permanent members to bring all parties concerned to sit around a table and taken a solution while Syria has turned into a burning inferno, and sadly among the five permanent members themselves, there is no meeting point, while some are against, some are determined to fight it out. Actually no nation among the five members doesn’t seem to seek a permanent solution. 

Ever since Barack Obama, US President, made his position clear to take Syria head on, come what may his Secretary of State John Kerry is on a hectic schedule to mobilize support for its massive bombardment over Syria. The immediate provocation for US to deal a hard blow to Syria was the use of chemical agent sarin over innocent citizens including 1429 children. It was a blood-chilling, mind-boggling sight ofcourse, which could arouse anger, indignation, sorrow and pain among us. Of late Kerry could bring to US fold the Arab league nations too.

With the news of US striking Syria spreading across the land the outflow of refugees must have risen in leaps and bounds. How come this ruthless ruler who is an ophthalmologist evolved into a ruthless killer of his own subjects. He is power-drunk, no doubt.

True, Syria is unlike Libya. In Libya, the population lay scattered even before the war broke out. But Syria is a thickly populated country, where, in the event of a war, death toll could arise beyond imagination. But with lakhs and lakhs deserting the land, it could be the same situation as in Libya.

Dr.Assad, an Alawite, a minority Muslim sect belonging to Shia community rules the country with an iron- fist. And now with war clouds looming large in the horizon which is about to break out anytime from now, nobody could be blamed except himself.

NONSENSE

Loneliness my intimate friend

you are with me always.

Even while I am in my flat with my wife and kids

or while in the bustling city

in the midst of crowds

in the crowded passenger trains

in the taxis

even while I am in a Cinema.

You never cause distractions to me.

Wherever I am

even while listening to a

melodious music or watching a scintillating dance

You are very much with me

since my childhood

to be more apt

even from the very day

the plant of memories 

sprouted

you too sprouted

along with it.

I know for sure

you will be with me

till the last moment.

My intimate friend

who told loneliness begets boredom …… ?

Nonsense………..    

                        

DR.SHASHI THAROOR - THE ‘SERIOUS MAN’

In the 80’s, near Churchgate railway station, in Mumbai, to be more exact, opposite EROS theatre, every morning while coming out of the station on my way to office at Nariman Point, an insane man in his 40’s clad in torn Khaki shirt and equally torn khaki pant, his hair disheveled, I could see him crying and shouting aloud ‘khana khana’ (food, food). Whether any good Samaritan took care of him and gave him food, none knew for sure. The truth though a tragic one was that including myself no passersby were seen  paying  heed to his loud cries. His crying aloud reminded me of elephants crying in my village which reverberated across my village and for that matter any other village, when went hungry or when ruthlessly beaten up by its mahouts.

In Mumbai if somebody paid heed to the wild cries of the mad man, it was a wonder. In the crowded city where every human being in a sense is mad to rush to his working place and return in the evening he/she often forgets to look around while walking in a hurry. The thing is no different in this cosmopolitan city which could implode any moment due to the incessant inflow of job seekers.

One thing I noticed in the evening upon my return from office after 5 ‘O’ clock on my way to catch the local from Churchgate was the disappearance of the insane man from where he cried aloud like an elephant. Without any qualm I would say like others if they could remember him we never felt for him or took kind of him and that is what city life is all about.

Now that years have flown by, now that we are in the first half of 21 century poverty across the land is above 60 percent. We can’t with sincerity write anything about the rate of poverty coming down.

Street-children, beggars and slum-dwellers etc often find it difficult to have at least a square-meal a day. This doesn’t mean that 60 percent of Indians are street-children, slum-dwellers or beggars. There are millions who don’t have covers over their heads, and 750 million without sanitation facilities who are forced to defecate in the open shamelessly. You might be knowing fairly well that approximately 78 million citizens are without roofs over their heads in India.

Besides these tragic truths as per the World Development Index India ranks near 140 among the 194 countries across the world.

I am forced to write about these sad truths on going through an interview given by Minister of State for Human Resource Development, the versatile intellectual renowned the world over as the former Under Secretary General Shashi Tharoor to Manu Joseph,Editor of Open Magazine.

Dr.Tharoor is eloquent when enlightening Manu Joseph about the achievements of UPA II government. He dwells upon the MGNREA (Mahatma Gandhi National Rural and Employment Guarantee Act) brought into law by the ManMohan Singh govt during his first term. Dr.Tharoor goes on claiming that the scheme could provide jobs to millions of jobless across India and thereby could wipe away poverty from million homes. He goes on to add that by opening accounts in nearby bank branches they have been provided easy access to money. In North India where the number of villages far outnumber cities, the distances between the rural areas and the banks where they are situated too far away, the beneficiaries will have to slug it out to reach the banks where the behaviour of authorities towards these poor ones are merciless. They will have to stand in long queues to get their peanuts. Dr.Shashi Tharoor seems like being ignorant of the fact. He elaborates some other landmark measures enacted  by the UPA II govt the  Food Security Bill, Land Acquisition Bill, Pension Regulatory Bill even while both houses of Parliament were plunged into cacophony. He squarely blames the Opposition for disturbing the functioning of the Houses frequently on flimsy grounds. The gentleman seems to have forgotten the long array of scams right from 2G Spectrum Scam, Adarsh Housing Scam, Common Wealth Games scam etc etc and of late the Coalgate scam all running into lakhs of crores of rupees draining off the exchequer.

Opposition disturbing the proceedings of the Parliament is not a new phenomenon. When NDA govt under Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) was in power it was the hobby of Congress and its allies to disturb the two Houses running for months. How long they continued to plunge both Houses into pandemonium over the coffin scandal accusing the then Defence Minister George Fernandes. Dr.Tharoor can easily wash away the  sins explaining he was not a political entity then. Gentleman, please don’t try to play innocence. 

When prices of essential commodities are sky-rocketing, when the prices of essential commodities and food are rising high, when fuel prices are running high causing high inflation, when under-nourishment of millions, lack of education and health facilities are rising day by day, when the ugly phenomenon of rape is staring in the face of Indian women should the Opposition sit in Parliament like disciplined students sitting in front of the teacher?

PUNISHED INNOCENCE

Throwing his ruthless

blood-shot eyes at the poor fellow

he drained the poor man

off his remaining strength.

Like a king cobra

spreading its fang and

spitting venom at its victim

he shot-off choicest

expletives at the emaciated bloke.

Dealing a succession of steely blows

he made the poor chap

wriggle with pain on

the floor, spitting blood.

In the end he steam-rollered his victim

until he lay unconscious.

All these third degree measures

without knowing anything about the real

culprit charged with crime.

FACE TO FACE

We are two strange friends.

Strange in the sense that

neither I nor she knows

each other’s whereabouts

nor have we cared to.

In this strange city

where life flows like

a swiftly flowing river

the thin line dividing

friendships and strangeness has little significance  

and existence ephemeral.

I first met her in a

posh- restaurant while thinking over

the news of a brutal deflowering

of an young journalist by some sex-maniacs

in the sunset moments the other day.

Such events have started pouring in

getting to be the order of the day

where women could roam

in the thick of nights like free birds some time back.

The lady in her

sleeveless dark blouse, white saree

with her hair cropped sat face to face to me

and ordered a glass full of gin-lemon codial.

In the dim, cool ambience

she too must have been reflecting

on something which was better known to herself.

Though taken aback for a split second

I regained my calm,

gave a welcoming smile

to her and she returned it back.

I was coming to my last gulp of beer

and was in for ordering the second one.

she offered me a cigarette while lighting one

and taking a puff.

“The city is a roaring beast

and for escaping from the beast

we have found a shelter

here inside the AC restaurant

at least for some moments, NO?”

-She was poetic in her words.

I shook my head in agreement.

our talks went on for one or two hours

within which we did dwell on topics aplenty

if not everything under the sun

with occasional silence and deep sighs

playing spoil-sport.

Upon coming outside the restaurant

the city as usual was a roaming beast.

Wishing a big bye

each moved along in opposite directions.

We continue meet

once in a while not

knowing each other’s

whereabouts.

Neither have we cared to……

  

MEANING OF HIS LIFE

Lightening and whitening his dark smiles

humming and tune-in his rhythmless music

shaping and chiseling his shapeless artefacts

crafting and ornamenting the endless wordings of his stories

he gives a meaning to each movement in his life….

ON A CLEAR, BLUE ,STARRY NIGHT….

On a clear, blue starry night

a star from the skies

reached my hands

to my embarrassment and surprise.

The warmth and vibrations

I felt inside my hands

I was at a  loss to know

what to do with the star

vibrating inside my grip.

When I was about to

throw away in the

backyards of my residence

I heard as if like an oracle  ‘my child, my dear child,

I am your beloved Dad

coming all the way from the skies

where life to me is virtually suffocating

breaking away the shackles I came down

straight into your hands

to spend my days with you, dear child’ –

-the familiarity of my Dad’s voice made me

weep like a child for some moments

unable to mutter anything

yet it seemed incomprehensible and unbelievable.

My mind went back to the green days

of my early childhood

when Dad and I in the moonlit starlit nights

walked along the courtyard

looking up to the moon and twinkling stars

those were days I cried for the moon and stars

not knowing it was something beyond

the capacity of my Dad.

I was recalling the days

he rained kisses galore

on my cheeks and he was love personified.

‘Dad I will never ever

throw away into the

backyards, instead you are

going to be with me the

rest of the days’ - assured I to my Dad

whose face was inscribed in it.

What about my kith and kin Dad?

If they could also come falling into my hands

It would have made us cheerful for ever’ - I was inquiring him

‘Son, I do not know

where they are  …

wherever they are they

too must be slugging out to break the chains

and come down into your hands’

‘Son, the laws of heaven are

more stringent than the

laws here on this earth.

Looking up from here I too once

felt like there all are in good spirits

but, no my son.’

On listening to his words

I was wondering the

ways of the heaven…………..

ARROW OF LOVE

Distances proved no hindrances

to us in feeling each other,

in sensing each other.

Whenever she drowned

in her happiest moments

I too enjoyed

sublime happiness even sitting far away.

Whenever she looked in the mirror

she could see my reflection

and whenever I looked in the

mirror I saw her reflection.

In her moments of needling pain

I too felt the unbearable pain.

From the very day she turned a caged bird

our jewels of joy and happiness vanished from our life forever

instead

pain turned out

to be our intimate, inseparable friend…

I am sure she must be recounting that

precious moment

when my arrow of love

pierced her golden heart and turned it aglow

and I still recount her precious golden moment

her arrow of love pierced my

heart and turned it aglow….  

OUR HONEYED-DREAMS

The inebriated,

street-children,

the slum-dwellers,

and the ones who sleep,

on the pavements,

that we are,

often enjoy the honeyed dreams,

of our future,  

as the owners of sky-rocketing abodes,

beautiful wives,

energetic and beautiful children, 

expensive cars,

 security guards wherever we go,

multiplying bank balances,

celebrity status in the society,

and wining and dining with the fat cats.

We know not,

the nightmares haunting,

the real life crorepathis,

millionaires and billionaires,

of the devils on prowl,

preying upon them any moment,

and of an uncertain, 

future staring in the faces of their business empires,

and of lack of peace of mind,

those words are only hearsay to us.

Dreams often continue to

visit us  as gods to keep us going……

 

QUEST FOR LIFE

In those days

in the thick, cloudy nights

lying sleepless on his bed

the frightening thoughts

of demons of death breaking open the doors

and taking away his soul

haunted the old man always

with shivers running down his body.

He in a feeble voice 

wanted his wife, the old woman always  by his

side, to scare away the demon of death closing

in on him.

The devoted wife that she was

weaved a cover of protection

over him every moment.

But no amount of protection was

sufficient to drive away

his blood-chilling nightmares day in and day out.

The foot steps of demon of death

continued to reverberate around him.

He alone could hear the fiery

dance steps and roars of the blood-thirsty demon dancing outside.

Albeit all precautions under thunder showers

the demon of death broke into his room and

took away his soul…….

THE LONG WAIT

I still recall the day you made that 

the vanishing appearance from 

my life forty years ago.

Like a bird flying to

unknown lands, you disappeared 

from my life for good.

Like a man walking away leaving his

wife in a desert

you left me alone in that strange city that day.

Like a loving husband

planting kisses on his wife’s forehead

on that very morning you profusely  

showered kisses on my forehead

and sped away to your working place by your

two-wheeler to your far away office on that fateful day.

You were always sharp and punctual

and I was certain you would be

by my side at the exact time,

After waiting for hours together

leaving me sleepless the entire night

you didn’t come to my shock and sorrow.

In the wee hours of the morning I did lodge

complaint at the nearest police station

and they promptly

formed search teams to the nook and corner of the city

yet

all of them came back empty-handed

to my shock and despair.

In a strange city

far away from my home

clouds of uncertainty loomed

large over my future

and

upon losing all my hopes

I was left with no option

but to leave the city

and catch a train to my home in the southern peninsula.

Now that after forty years

in the sunset of my life with a spark

of hope in my mind

I still continue to wait for you…..

THE VILLAGE SANTA

He was old, dark-complexioned

and of medium height.

He was bald, with flowing

long and snow white-beard and white moustache.

His eyes were always

protruded which reminded one of an exorcist.

No wonder

he evoked fear in the

eyes of the children at first sight

but he could easily endear himself

to them by his loving and

affectionate behaviour.

Clad in white with pocket full of

mouth watering sweets

he walked across the village

and distributed sweets

to the children, hugged them

though he was not Santa.

At the sight of children

he never forgot to wave his hands at them

and if they failed to reciprocate

it filled his eyes with tears.

He did go on with his merry go round

until he fell ill one day

with age catching up.

The children along with their parents

visited him everyday

treated him with care and affection

until he had a peaceful end.

The children felt deserted

by their sweet loving grandpa

rest of the days…..