Saturday, December 5, 2015

AWAITING RESSURECTION


POEM

Till the other day
we were looked after
well by our protectors
and ensured our
safety from each other’s enemies. 
Plastered across the walls
on both sides of the streets
we smiled at the passersby
walking down the streets
or travelling by the
buses, cars, rickshaws
with appealing faces
with a glint of hope in our eyes
to exercise their franchise
each competing with the other.
Now that a fiercely fought battle over
and the dust settled
our so-called protectors
till the other day
turned away from us
leaving our fate to
the whims of wanton boys
who mercilessly tore us apart
and littered all along the way.
We have to wait until the next battle
for our godfathers to recall us and
plaster us across the walls of the
on either side of the streets.
Awaiting a resurrection,  

we remain…..

Friday, November 20, 2015

NOVEMBER 13 TERROR STRIKES ON FRANCE BY IS AND FRANCE’S RETALIATION


ARTICLE

In India if 26/11/08 was the handiwork of Lashkar-E-Taiba, one of the hard-core militant outfit of Pakistan, our neighbouring  country, in 13/11/2015 it was a premeditated suicide attack orchestrated by eight Islamic State (IS) militants the nightmare of the whole world which outranks even Al-Quaeda. The IS militants targeted six landmarks frequented by ordinary French civilians mowing down 129 of them and  wounding more than three hundred. The condition of the 99 innocent civilians continues to be critical, who were shot at by the IS militants. They were either gunned down or blew themselves up when the French forces chased them. One militant, it was reported, managed to escape.  Francoise Holland, French President, declared a state of emergency, and as per latest news pouring in from France,  almost 115000 forces are deployed across the country who remain vigilant apprehending further attacks. Today ie. 18/11  unconfirmed reports state the master-brain behind the attack Abdel Hameed Abooudi has been either killed (or killed himself) by French forces. As of now the forces who are frantically in search of IS terrorists across the country, two terrorists were killed and the former continue their search unabated. This is the second suicide attack in France, the first one being the killing of 12 cartoonists and injuring 11 others by the militants who rampaged the office of Charlie Hebdo, the French newspaper.
A ‘death cult’ as one newspaper termed IS, the savage outfit is hated and feared by the nations the world over. Though US, France, Russia, Britain, Saudi Arabia  are relentlessly bombarding its haven the IS has not yet been suppressed instead it grows  from strength to strength with more militants from various countries joining the ranks of the ‘so-called Caliphate’ headed by   Abubaker Al-Baghdadi , the self-declared Caliph of IS. Its elements can strike at any place, any person or a gathering anytime it targets even now.
The Western nations including US and Britain are to share the entire blame for the birth of this Frankenstein monster. Now they find themselves cornered. If they had desisted from declaring a war against Iraq and indulged in larges-scale massacres and destroyed properties including  cultural heritages thereby wiping out  the entire Mesopotamian civilization on false grounds that Iraq  occupied weapons of mass destruction. If US had desisted from providing logistical weapons  and ample funds  to the Free Syrian Army which ultimately went into the hands of then budding IS, the scenario which we are faced with ie the formation Islamic State, (the dreaded  terror outfit) which carved out portions of Iraq and Syria, could have been avoided. Now that the responsibility of eliminating this terrorist hydra has fallen into the  hands  of not only US, Britain, France and Russia, but the nations across the world.
As long as this monster is allowed to spread across the world no nation on the face of earth is not likely to enjoy rest or relaxation. This outfit continues to haunt us and will continue to haunt the entire mankind.          


PUBLIC MEMORY


POEM

Riding the crest of popular wave
he found himself
catapulted to the throne of
leader of the nation.
A visibly moved he,
sporting a beaming smile
addressed an ocean of cheering crowds
waving hands, displaying ‘V’signs
delivered a prolonged speech
driving his subjects drunk with joy  unbound.
Like his predecessors who one by one
occupied the saddle
riding the crest of popular wave
made themselves endearing
to hundreds of thousands of masses.
They too delivered
fiery speeches with sugar-coated
pledges and promises
to wash away the grime of corruption,
terror and violence 
elevating the masses to
a plain of sky-high dreams,
happy days of prosperity and hopes a plenty. 
Unfortunately the suffering millions
found themselves taken  for a ride.
Now a new man in the garb of
a benevolent leader
in whom they reposed their full faith
who were not even cautiously optimistic
the one and only reason being 
public memory always remains short.
Election after election, ruler after ruler
who made false promises of new dawn
pushed their subjects to the abyss
of hardships, poverty, deaths
thereby  snuffing out

the flames of sweet morrows. 

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

SPRING OF LOVE


POEM

In the spring of her love,
-deep-down in her heart
I dip not once, but umpteen times
deriving maximum joy and pleasure.
In the spring of my love
-deep-down in my heart she takes dip
not once, but umpteen times
deriving maximum joy and pleasure.
True, destiny played a cruel game,
way back and we
find ourselves separated
and are at different corners of the Globe.
Still,
she continues her dip
in the spring of my love
not once, but times galore
deriving ecstasy.
I too continue taking dip
in the spring of her love
not once, but times galore

deriving ecstasy. 

Monday, November 9, 2015

NEPAL IN DOLDRUMS – THE MADHESI BLOCKADE CONTINUES


Nepal the small, land-locked Himalayan country is one of the unfortunate nations in our neighbourhood which is in doldrums unlike Bhutan. After years under monarchy, majority of Nepalese revolted against the former, especially during the tyrannical rule of King Gyanendra which literally suffocated the masses. Much blood spilled over the streets of Nepal and hundreds of thousands laid down their lives for the coming generation. The uprising was led by the banned Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) under Pushpa Kamal Dahl ‘Prachanda’ in 1996. After continuous onslaughts by the masses against King Dhyanendra’s forces the Nepalese ensured the bowing out of the former. ‘His Highness’ turned out to be one among thousands or was stripped of his entitlements which he and his predecessors enjoyed for decades.
The Maoists played a prominent role in ousting him from power. Elections followed, Communist Party of Nepal (Maoists) bagged majority of seats and under Prachanda a democratic government occupied power in 2006. He had begun to rule Nepal with other parties joining as constituents. 
Though Prachanda was an organizer par excellence, as an administrator he was an utter failure.  Without completing his tenure as Prime Minister he had to step down from power on May 25, 2009 and the then President of Nepal Ram Baran Yadav held the reins of power for a while.
Nepal’s rule subsequently came under Baburam Bhattarai of CPN (Maoists) Madhav Kumar Nepal and Sushil Koirala of Nepalese Congress. None could provide stability as a result which another round of elections declared.
In the ensuing elections held in 2015, United Marxist Leninist Party (UMP) emerged first Nepalese Congress came second and CPN (Maoist) a poor third followed by other entities.
Though India preferred Sushil Koirala’s elevation as Prime Minister of Nepal it was K.P.Sharma Oli of United Marxist Leninist Party (UMP) who is a bitter critique of India.
Since nearly a decade, Nepal was bereft of a Constitution owing to the bitter wrangling among the political parties. It was after the Supreme Court served an ultimatum and set a deadline the parties deliberated on a war-footing and finally came out with a Constitution followed by constituting a Constituent Assembly.
The Madhesis and Tharus which form a substantial part of ethnic population who are settled down at Terai region bordering India accusing the government under K.P.Sharma  Oli, for sidelining the former they went on a blockade of trucks which is still going on leading to crisis in Nepal. Health Services, Transport services, domestic needs, all badly in need of fuel find the government in a quandary. Though China evolving into a good Samaritan supplied them with fuel which was sufficient only for a short term the removal of blockade alone is the lasting solution. In the meanwhile Mr.Ohli put the entire blame on India which irritated the latter. Oli retracted his charges immediately and went on to declare that Nepal wanted a good and warm relationship with India.
The Deputy Prime Minister cum Foreign Affairs Minister Kamal Thapa had paid a visit to India last week in connection with the blockade and the difficulties his small nation faces in various departments. While drafting the constitution itself, India had advised Nepalese leaders to take each section of the population into account. If they had heeded India’s advice such a misfortune could have been avoided.

Now Oli government has climbed down from their stand and talks are reportedly going on in full steam. Let’s hope for the best.    

Thursday, November 5, 2015

A GAME OF UNCERTAINTIES


POEM

Cricket, it is said, is a game of
glorious uncertainties.
Life, I mean, existence
too is a game of uncertainties
inglorious uncertainties.
Though a man/woman finds time
to condole the death
of others known to them
he/she hesitates to ponder over
his/her own death.
When, where, how
his/her ‘silent visitor’
approaches each of them
with whispering foot-steps reaches he/she
and orders to follow Him.
Both he/she knows only one truth
the certainty of His arrival at any time, any place
and due to any cause.
If each thinks
about the time, place and cause
uncertainty looms large
       on the horizon of each one’s mind.
Yes, existence is a game of
glorious uncertainties
if only a man/woman is prepared to
accept the truth with equanimity…..


       

SYRIAN CONUNDRUM AND RUSSIA’S INTERVENTION


Last month or so at the behest of Russian President Vladimir Putin, Syrian Dictator Bashar-Al-Assad called on the former at Kremlin. Immediately after the invitation Assad flew to Kremlin, met Mr.Putin shook hands and went straight into the heart of the matter. Syria and Russia are on good terms, but for Russia Mr.Assad would have tasted defeat at the hands of Syrian rebels, the hard-core Al-Nusrat, branch of Al-Quaeda and Islamic State (IS), the hardest and much - dreaded militant outfit the world over. In between their talks most probably, one on one meeting Russia prevailed upon Mr.Assad to hold immediate elections in Syria.
They were not supposed to have dealt with two or three cardinal issues concerning Syria and let me mention one by one.
1.      1.  In  more than four and half years of civil war, up till now millions of innocent Syrians perished for no fault of theirs due to incessant bombardments (even chemical weapons were freely used which choked to death lakhs of civilians including children. The world as a whole rose in protest and condemned the merciless massacre of civilians especially children. The pictures of several children who were choked to death were blood-chilling, blood-curdling and heart-breaking.
US even went to the extent of condemning the horrendous criminal act of Syrian authorities the former nearly declared an all out war against Syria Except for the immediate arrival of UN on the scene which took necessary measures to avert a large-scale war, it would have been a certainty. On the request of UN, an international organization, Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW) which was formed with a mission to inspect chemical weapons and defuse them wherever they were piled up and freely used was sent to Syria and with the latter’s co-operation defused and destroyed the chemical weapons. The organization was awarded Nobel Prize for peace soon after.
2.     2.   If millions perished in the war, as many fled for life leaving all their belongings, to various countries including European nations and the outflow of refugees continues. In the mad rush to escape gruesome deaths more than 3000 of refugees including children were drowned in the Mediterranean sea. A mind-boggling picture of Aylan Muhammed, a 3 year old child who got drowned in the Mediterranean and whose corpse landed on the shores of Turkish waters was displayed on both the print and electronic media which still sends a shudder running down our spines.
3.     3.  Millions of dollars worth properties were destroyed the pictures of shattered buildings were shown on media – both print and visual.
These three hot issues requiring immediate attention and solution seem to have been sidelined by both Assad and Putin.
Instead, sensing a tragic defeat of Syrian dictator who was gradually getting isolated due to desertions by the so-called militia who stood by him. Russia militarily intervened in Syria and is fiercely fighting the Syrian rebels and Islamic State (IS) forces.
Anyhow  heeding the suggestion of  Vladimir Putin soon after landing in Syria Mr.Assad declared elections within six months. Laughable indeed. Syria is in a shambles – millions dead, millions fled the clashes still going on how is it possible to conduct elections, especially an independent election. The civilians left in the country are only a few in numbers and even these ones are mulling escaping the country for good.
Last Friday the representatives of US, Russia and Iran met in Vienna and deliberated on the steps to arrive at a solution to bring to an end the perennial war. While America insisted on a democratic Syria sans Mr Asad both Russia and Iran, the latter too is a potential ally of Syria are not insisting Mr.Asad’s removal. Anyhow Iran is of the opinion let Mr.Asad continue for a short span and grant him a breather before stepping down. US couldn’t digest that solution and sees thru the ploy that Iran places.

Would Syria be a democratic country at any point of time in future where the hard-core Al-Nusrat and IS elements continue to pose a threat to the nation. Pity, it is a free for all hapless nation. 

Monday, November 2, 2015

HURDLES


POEM

Hurdles, hurdles all the way
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be crossed.
A short relief after each hurdle
it’s better than no relief.
Hurdles, hurdles all the way
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be crossed
if a man/woman with much effort
crosses all the hurdles.
Then lie a long path
sans without hurdles
straight at times
long winding at other times
hair-pin curves at another times
Relaxation not allowed
and no turning back permitted
albeit the path is
littered with sharp stones,
thorns and pot-holes
barefooted is each man/woman.
Hurdles, hurdles all the way
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be crossed
intricacies of life are strange
none knows what is yet to follow
each second, each minute, each hour
human beings are in a state of
suspended animation.
Hurdles, hurdles all the way,
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be crossed…. 


Saturday, October 31, 2015

INSURMOUNTABLE TASK?


POEM

Throw out the
garbage of evil thoughts 
piled up in the corner of your mind.
Scrub the floor, corners and walls
and turn it bright like sunshine.
Let the winds of fresh thoughts blow in
and fill your mind with them.
Though it is a tedious task
in this age and times
when evils are on the prowl
try, try and try to ward off them
and create wonders

thus exhort the great souls…..

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

SUM TOTAL OF ONE’S EXISTENCE


POEM

Sitting by the side
of a calm and quiet pond
the transparency of
which could reflect
the blue sky up above
with no ripples whatsoever
to upset the calm and silent waters.  
I was enquiring myself
the sum total of my existence
on the face of the earth.
With no answer forthcoming
with despair and gloom in my eyes and face
I left the spot.
Wish I possessed
a device to measure the sum total of
my existence.
I am seated at a secluded place
where peace and tranquility reign  supreme.
But no my  inner self intervened
and whispered in my ears :
It is too early to
calculate the sum total of my existence
since it is not in my  domain
but in the hands of posterity
and that I should have
to traverse a long path
so as to enable the coming generation

to measure the sum total of my existence………

Saturday, October 17, 2015

THE DOOR OF FREEDOM


POEM

Despised and hated by majority
loved, feared and respected by minority
the malevolent dictator is always at the
mercy of a silent majority
which ‘he is unwilling to acknowledge
simply because of his loyal forces
and the so-called minority
who are the obedient dogs
always wagging their
tails before their master.
But when the silent majority
reach the bottom line of their patience
they turn eloquent
gather under one umbrella
and fight against the loyal militia
until the eloquent majority
arrive at the door of victory
and dethrone the dictator.
The boot-lickers of the ruthless rascal
flee for their life leaving their master in the lurch
who by that time will be chained
and imprisoned and brought before justice.
At last freedom knocks on the door of the nation
which was under the iron grip of
a merciless ruler
 and a new era is born.


Tuesday, October 13, 2015

DESERT LIFE


POEM

Bereft of ideas
he wandered around 
sometimes hitting his head
sometimes hitting the wind
or gritting teeth.
Despite all his attempts
thinking even from different angles
though aware of the subject
ideas blessed him not.
Someone in him whispered in his ears
thus he felt
to pen a beautiful poem.
First came to his mind
a sprawling beautiful garden
full of a variety of pretty flowers
and their fragrance
spreading all around in the cool breeze
of the morning with dew drops
dripping from the petals of flowers
and the beetles kissing
and sucking the honey from their lips.
The next moment
someone in him reminded
of several poems he had penned
touching the garden,
beautiful flowers,
and fragrance.
He dropped the thought 
of garden,
flowers and the fragrance
blowing all around in the cool breeze
of the misty morning.
Then his imagination took wings
and the picture of two
lovers came to his mind,
their exchange of glances,
smiles, each of them planting kisses
with their passions rising high
and the first love-making
which lifted them to heaven.
But the next moment
someone in him reminded
‘you have already
penned the stories of
lovers and love-birds’.
Pondering over a new theme
he roamed around
and the picture of a vast desert
under fire-spitting sun entered his mind 
with only  one person
walking aimlessly
and with thirst, tired and
exhausted he was
for want of a water-spring.
With no one around
to plead for at least 
mouthful of water
to wet his dry lips and dry mouth
and empty stomach to regain
the vigour and strength.
No god blessed him
and he felt unconscious
in the  searing heat.
On thinking of the new theme
he said to himself :
‘in these times
mankind’s life on
the earth as a whole
is somewhat like
living in a desert
with love, peace, harmony
and all virtues
disappearing somewhere.’  
The someone in him
went silent………
A sign of approval…?   




Sunday, October 11, 2015

DOCTOR AND PATIENTS


POEM

I awaited the doctor
seated in a chair
in the portico of his house.
I was the first to come
and my token No.1 
and I was here since an hour.
Unfortunately the doctor was not ‘IN’
when would he turn up, no idea.
Whether he along with
his family had gone
our for shopping
or on a long distance journey, no idea.
I pressed the calling
but no answer was forthcoming.
I started from home early
to meet and consult him at the earliest.
Seconds and minutes ticked by
patients one after another began to arrive
and each took up a token thrust  on the spike
in numerical order.
Evening Sun appeared in the
Western horizon
intensity of his anger slowly mellowed
and he covered the earth with his golden silk.
Those who came first got seats
remaining ones stood like statues
some others walked to and fro along the
courtyard of his house.
Impatience was writ large
on everyone’s face.
None knew the doctor’s contact number
and all were helpless.
Darkness descended on the earth
street lights opened their eyes
patients one by one
began returning to their residence.
Me too emptied the chair
and walked out in despair.
By the time
the doctor reached
home it was late
and after changing dress

the doctor began awaiting the patients….

Thursday, October 8, 2015

RIVER OF FREEDOM


POEM
A beautifully woven fabric
shining since decades
is being gradually torn asunder.
Brave and independent
voices being stifled and silenced.
Fear psychosis across the nation
like an epidemic is being affecting
countless of citizens
irrespective of writers,
artists, intellectuals
and common citizens.
Tolerance, patience
unity and serenity are being
driven to the brink of the abyss.
Elimination of poverty
of millions being spoken aloud in words
but not in deeds both here and abroad.
And the world is watching
and is gradually coming to grip with
story of the river of freedom
being  getting dried…..

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

OLIVE BRANCHES


POEM

A dove with olive-branches 
between its beaks
was flying from afar.
A hawk perching on
the branch of a tree
was watching the dove stealthily.
It was an accidental coincidence that
the dove espied the hawk
while flying nearer and nearer.
He with olive branches
between his beaks
was calm, quiet and fearless
flew closer and closer to the hawk
and perched beside him.
He looked askance at the hawk
meaning ‘why are you
sitting here’?
‘That is none of your
business’ was the angry
and curt response of the hawk.
The dove returned him a beaming smile.
The hawk was wondering
how come the dove
dares to sit near him 
and look askance at him.
He forcefully snatched
an olive branch from the dove
and took it between his beaks.
Within a split-second 
the hawk, like in a magic
metamorphosed into a dove
turned  peaceful, calm and quiet.
Both of them became friends
and both ‘messengers of peace’ flew away
to spread the message of
peace and harmony…across the world…..   
This is my wishful thinking


Sunday, October 4, 2015

THE ELOPEMENT


POEM

It was a low-key marriage
----a story of elopement.
It was a love-affair between both,
but,
 she hailing  from a rich family
and he a lower middle-class youth,
her parents, siblings  
and close relatives
opposed tooth and nail to the relationship.
Albeit their opposition
she stuck to her decision like a rock
and ran away with him
in the thick of one night.
They fled to a faraway place
and got married in front of a temple
exchanging garlands.
She was empty-handed
he had some money with  him
and took a house for rent.
‘Scaling heights is
everyone’s dream 
but remember my dear
life has its highs and lows
like mountains and valleys.
Hence while aiming high
bow down
and see the plight of poor ones
at the lower strata of society
dreaming for at least two
square meals a day’ – he
was telling her choking with emotion
on their first night  
at their rented home
at a strange village.
She planted kisses
dime a dozen on
his forehead and her cheeks

eyes gone teary…… 

Friday, October 2, 2015

OVERLAPPING SHADOWS


POEM

We are overlapping shadows
then, now and in future.
From childhood to teenage
from teenage to youth,
and now  adulthood. 
While we were children,
while we were teenagers,
while we were youth,
we intermingled, continue to intermingle
and will certainly intermingle irrespective of genders.
Now we have got separated
and are in different cities across our nation
and abroad
working in different institutions.
Still,
at least once, twice, thrice a year
majority of us meet and intermingle
share our pains, sorrow and joy
like chemical solutions interacting in a lab.
Once countless of us had love affairs,
in the college campuses and outside.
A few materialized and borne fruits
unfortunately several of them couldn’t blossom
and had to part ways.
Lovers among us,
however experienced that sublime feeling of ecstasy.
Even while eking out a living afar
we are overlapping shadows.
Human beings as a whole
are overlapping shadows
in this ever changing
world, to be precise……..



Sunday, September 27, 2015

WORKAHOLIC


POEM

Work, work, work
he prefers to be always on the wheels.
And he knows how to put
his subordinates to be on the wheels.
Work, work, work
he comes out of the office
late in the night
with his brief-case
walks toward his car
turns the ignition key
starts the car and
speeds past to his flat
miles away.
Work, work, work
obsessesed with work
his wife  receives him
with a gloomy face and tears
welling up in her eyes.
By the time he reaches the house
his children will be fast asleep.
‘Work, work, work -
you have nothing else to ponder about.
Neither about two children nor about
your wife.
You are a stranger to our children
at such an early age’
-she sheds tears.
He cares two hoots to
her tears and complaints.
Work, work, work
he wakes up early in the morning
completes his routine work
have his breakfast
his wife with her sombre face
arranges his tiffin box
and puts it in the brief-case.
Well-dressed, scenting perfume,
he walks toward his car
starts it, drives straight  to his office
and starts the day’s work
before the lenova with his
finger playing music on each letters.
Work, work, work
obsessesed with work.
One day when he
reached the flat late into the night
and to his shock
he found his flat-empty 
and a lady  staying 
in the adjacent flat
handed over the keys to him
saying ‘they are gone’.
Where? When, why
while entering the flat
and switching on the
light he asked himself.
With an empty stock 
his stomach like a furnace

he couldn’t sleep through-out the night. 

Friday, September 25, 2015

THE GREAT INDIAN RAPE CAPITALS


ARTICLE

Rapes have spread like an epidemic across India. The only difference being that compared to North Indian States, South Indian States are trailing far behind Northern States. Until recently Delhi was the epicentre of rapes.
Now that it has spread to Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, Haryana, Bihar and a number of States.
Delhi turned out to be a rape capital since decades and it was frequently testing the patience of Delhites and continuously so.
Whenever the issue of widespread rapes across Delhi, the unfortunate incident of a gang rape of a physiotherapy student who was studying at AIIMS (All India Institute of Medical Sciences) comes to our mind. The incident in night of December 16, 2012 when she along with her boy friend boarded a bus in which six people, all friends were travelling. It was not in the thick of night, only 9 ‘O’ clock approximately. The girl was brutally raped on the running bus by each one among the culprits. And when the girl resisted with all her might they too turned brutal and violent nearly took her to the brink of death. The wicked rascals after being gratified threw the girl and her boy-friend who was tied up by ropes to a corner of a street.
The whole Delhi came to know  about the shocking incident, every member of each house irrespective of girls, men and women, youth and even children poured out into the streets and went on the rampage, sloganeering demanded those at the helm of affairs to bring the culprits to book and take measures to award them capital punishment and nothing short of that.
They were nabbed in no time and incarcerated. The issue went to the court and after trial, barring a juvenile who was among the culprits - the most ruthless among them were sentenced to death. The No.1 accused one Ram Singh took his life by hanging while he was in the Tihar jail. 
Meanwhile, Government appointed former Chief Justice of India Justice J S Verma to inquire about the prevailing rapes and suggest measures to put an end to this epidemic as early as possible. Justice Verma within a stipulated period submitted his report in which he suggested a long list of stringent measures to be taken in future to put a full stop to the inhuman crimes of rape.
The girl in the story though struggled with death until the last moment had to succumb to her serious injuries in a Singapore hospital. In her memory, the government decided to implement ‘Nirbhaya’ for the safety of women in the society but to no avail. Even in Delhi a number of incidents occurred, most of them gang rapes, and the culprits roam around the streets scot-free. Even on the other day a 9th class student while on her way to her house after attending school was abducted and forcibly pushed into a car drove around the city and was raped by two youths in their early 20’s ruthlessly and left her there. Though a case was filed whether they would be nabbed, no one knows.
One month before two ladies were shot dead by two youths for not withdrawing the cases against two sex-starved men in Uttar Pradesh.
Mulayam Singh, father of UP Chief Minister Akhilesh Yadav is always alleged to be by the side of the culprits  wherever such incidents take place. Is he a human being? - the question is better left to the civilians to give an answer.
Such incidents are not confined to a Delhi or a UP but as I have already mentioned it is prevalent across India. Not a single day passes without the incidents of rapes happening somewhere in India.

It is high time the ‘so-called’ responsible rulers rose to the occasion.           

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

NEVER CHAIN YOURSELVES



POEM

It is better not to marry.
It would be better we
enter into live-in-relationship.
No horoscopes, no auspicious moments,
no temples, no churches,
no nuptial knots,
no exchange of wedding rings,
no wedding sarees
no dowry
no reception,
no children.
A time might come
when we get fed up
with living together.
After a ‘golden hand shake’
after exchanging beaming smiles
I and you bid good-bye  
and depart in search of more and more 
greener pastures.
Life itself is a
continuous pursuit of
greener pastures.
Sometimes we might
come across each other,
smile at each other,
shake hands and enquire
about each other’s welfare.
even share bed at a
convenient, comfortable place.
It is better not to marry.
It would be better
we enter into live-in relationship.
After all what is the need

for chaining ourselves? 

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

MY MIND


POEM

My mind is a sea
sometimes cool, tranquil and quiet.
Sometimes the same
sea boils, roars and turns violent
depending upon my
fluctuating moods.
With the sun rising,
with the landscape peaceful
cool breeze  flows from the sea
which is pleasant during morning times.  
With the sun moving
slowly and gradually to the west 
the sea turns  hot-tempered
and boils under the blazing sun
and roars with rolls of waves
lashing their heads
on the rocks on the shore and retreat.
And return  to the sea-shore
with more vigour, anger and strength.
My mind at times
evolves into a violent sea
when something unpleasant,
inviting wrath gets on my nerves.
True, my mind is a sea or like a sea

it all depends upon my fluctuating moods….

Saturday, September 19, 2015

COLOURS OF MEMORY


POEM

Colours of memory are different.
They could be black,
white, red, green, yellow,
violet, saffron,, vermillion
-the list is endless.
You and I give
different meanings to
different colours of memory.
They are always subjective.
Colours of memory are like
variety entertainment
displayed by a sprawling garden, 
which do not mean
this life is colourful,
bestowing abundance of
blessings upon you and I 
and for that matter
anyone on the face of earth.
Colours of memory do have
colours of joy, sorrow,
agony and gnawing pain.
Be it day, be it night
colours of memory always

accompany us like our shadows…..   

Thursday, September 17, 2015

*MAYA


POEM

Many a time I have seen her
in the metro at different places,
different moments.
Enthralled by her bewitching beauty
an intense desire
overwhelmed me, overtook me
to get in touch with her.
Many a time upon seeing her
our eyes get locked
she would hang her head
without even casting a smile at me.
Many a time I find time to pursue her,
with the intention of
knowing her whereabouts,
where she goes, where she resides,
where she works if she works somewhere,
each time she performs a vanishing act
pushing me to the ditch of disappointment.
Is she a character from a fairy tale,
is she my illusion
sometimes I feel.
Once, when our eyes met
she cast a smile at me,
a captivating, bewitching,
fascinating smile it was
and it was no surprise
that I was elated, rejoiced
and elevated
to an ethereal world.
When I crossed the street,
to have one or two sweet words with her
she hurriedly caught a taxi
and sped away……
Now I feel
whether like me
she too is pursuing me.
Anyhow I am sure
we would meet again in the metro
at different places,
different moments……..

*Illusion

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

FIRE-FLIES


POEM

A nation is burning
since five years.
Civilians are fireflies
in the war-torn country.
Millions already burnt
millions continue to
plunge  into the towering inferno.
A war-ravaged country,
any war-ravaged country for that matter
is like a convict
being led to the gallows.
Due to sheer luck
millions find escape-route
before turning victims
from frequent explosions and raging fire
and run away for life
leaving all their wealth
and other belongings
jumping the hurdles
built by other nations
facing all odds and pitch tents
fall prey to poverty, famine, diseases,
ultimately finding 
solace in tragic deaths.
Ignoring the precious lives of the people
‘BIG GUNS’ jump into the fray
and while one extends support the war-torn country
another takes up cudgels against the latter
Life of millions are of
no value to those so-called

‘BIG GUNS’……  

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

WEEPING MEDITERRANEAN


POEM

None has seen a
sea weeping
but, dear friends,
a sea too weeps
like a mother, like a child.    
These days Mediterranean
is continuously weeping.
But she is helpless.
When Aylan Kurdi,
his brother Galib,
such hundreds of Aylan Kurdis,
Galibs and their parents
while fleeing for life by boats
and when a few sink
into her very depths
she weeps
ceaselessly weeps 
continues to weep
since boats continues
to drown with the refugees 
who flee for life to safer countries
some deny permission to
them and chase them away,
while some embrace them 
provide food to them
distribute sweets to them
arrange accommodation for them.
Mediterranean is a 
witness to everything

but incessantly weeps…….

Monday, September 14, 2015

SO BE IT


POEM

For the last five years,
you were the ruler
and we were the ruled.
While you were in the throne,
we did ensure that
you must be prevented
from enacting legislations
by blocking them
be them good or bad for our citizens.
We were like an irresponsible opposition
and made a mess of everything.
Now it is our turn.
We are the rulers and
you the ruled
for the next five years, if god permits.
We are sure,
you will be determined
to flummox us,
and obstruct us from
enacting several legislations.
Filibuster, in American parlance.
Be it you or us
whoever hold the reins of power
the ultimate sufferers are our citizens.

So be it……

Thursday, September 10, 2015

IMMATERIAL


POEM

Once,
a young man started
scaling the highest mountain of knowledge.
His one and only
aim was nothing but
conquer that mountain
before others forge ahead of him.
With the passage of years and years
reaching the half-way mark
his store-well of strength,
will and determination
gradually started drying up
which forced him to
abandon his mission
return to the point
from where he began scaling
up the mountain.
Like a rich man turning bankrupt
due to unexpected collapse of his business
the person who dreamt of conquering the
mountain of knowledge
could never fulfil his ambition.
Conquering the highest
mountain remains beyond the approach of each

person on the face of earth…….  

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

FACES AND NAMES


POEM

Faces and names
we like or detest
refuse to leave us
though we want them
vanish from our memory
which however
disappear from the recesses of our mind
like a few sentences
written over the sand of the sea-shore
are wiped  away by
the surging waves within seconds.
Faces and names
we love, like hate or fear
however are etched on
the walls of memory
in other words
our minds like bloating 
papers absorb them
within split seconds.
Beauty or personal magnetism
are not the criteria
If so,
how come rough,
wicked and wily faces
stick to the walls of our minds.
There are no apparent reasons
to explain why such a
puzzle or could we call it phenomenon
lingers which is subjective

subjective only…….

ASSEMBLY ELECTIONS IN BIHAR APPROACHING – EMERGING POLITICAL EQUATIONS


ARTICLE

Elections are round the corner in Bihar. Ruling Janata Dal (United) led by Nitish Kumar and Sharad Yadav apprehending a defeat in the coming elections took the initiative to form a Grand Alliance taking into account the expediency of the moment. Shedding personal animosities Nitish Kumar (JDU) developed intimate relationship with his former  betenoire Lalu Prasad  Yadav, leader of Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) who was Chief Minister of Bihar for fifteen successive years and both invited Mulayam Singh Yadav, leader of Samajwadi Party (SP), Janata Dal (Secular), Indian National Congress, Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) of Sharad Pawar which later left the alliance squabbling over the number of seats allotted to it which was followed by the Samajwadi Party (SP) for the same reason.
It was the growing clout of Bharatiya Janata Party in Bihar which had prompted these parties to group under one umbrella with a determination to defeat the former at the hustings.
It was a conclusion foretold that the so-called Grand alliance named Janata Parivar would not last long and that which would disintegrate before or after the crucial elections.
It was not ideological affinity which prompted them to gather under one umbrella but casteist politics which played a prominent role. And because of the same reason it is not likely to last, thus believe political observers.
The election of Mulayam Singh Yadav to lead the Alliance from the front was a Himalayan blunder. The man is notorious for swimming with the current, in other words he is the number one fence-sitter or in other words an opportunist among the regional parties in India. Since National Democratic Alliance (NDA) under Narendra Modi of Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), the Yadava parties be it Samajwadi Party (SP) or Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), or Janata Dal (United) (not a Yadav party) which was once in good terms with Bharatiya Janata Party (agreed) these parties since the very beginning are bitter enemies of BJP. Bharatiya Janata Party and parties belonging to the Grand Alliance detest seeing eye to eye.  
Mulayam, the gentle man who was elected unanimously to lead the Grand Alliance didn’t have any qualms to break away from the Alliance for the simple reason that his party was not allotted the number of seats it demanded and it is worth remembering that Samajwadi Party is not a force to reckon with in Bihar.  Anyhow Lalu Prasad Yadav, who incidentally has turned out to be his close relative and Sharad Yadav are compelling Mulayam not to leave the alliance for the sake of keeping the BJP at bay. Whether he is likely to listen to their appeals remains a big question mark.
BJP has in the meanwhile formed a cohesive unit and is sensing victory in the ensuing elections.

Though the Left Front, consisting of Communist party of India, Communist Party of India (Marxist), Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist), Forward Bloc and Revolutionary Socialist Party keeping a distance from both the Janata Parivar and BJP have decided not to jump into the fray but to no avail. They are not even marginal forces in present day Bihar.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

NATURE AND MANKIND


POEM

When a train derails
on its way to
a particular destination
or when a nuclear plant explodes
without displaying any sign of a snag
and snatches away the lives of thousands
or when an air-plane 
catches fire midway in the sky
or nose-dives while landing
robs away hundreds of invaluable lives
or when a war or rebellion breaks out
which could last years and years
in the process killing crores and crores
of innocent lives,
man is bound to share the blame
and each one has to atone for it.
But when an
earthquake violently shakes a land
claiming hundreds of thousands of lives
or when a Tsunami unexpectedly 
towers over a country or countries
and sows the seeds of maximum destruction
in terms  of lives of innocents and loss of properties
when nature vents it fury in the form of  
eruption of a volcano throwing out red-hot lava
flowing down a vast area
forcing thousands to flee for life

who is to blame…..?

Saturday, September 5, 2015

IN THE DEEP SEA OF SLUMBER


POEM

Look, the child is sunk
in the sea of deep slumber
face down the sea-shore.
Clad in his glittering,
exquisite red shirt
and tight blue jeans
and black shoes
he might have reached the sea-shore
without informing his elders.
See, he is always fond of 
the vast expanse of the blue sea 
which must have prompted
him to run away to the sea shore from home.
No one knows when he
reached the sea-shore.
One thing is certain
it was hours ago.
Wandering down the sea-shore
for a long time
under the blazing sun
he might have got tired and exhausted.
That might have led
him to fall asleep on the sea-shore
face down on the sand.
‘Aylaan, Aylaan, Aylaan’ -
somebody, perhaps his father or
some other elders from home
was heard calling him in a frightened voice
which was approaching nearer and nearer
from a long distance.
Naughty Aylaan might have
played prank on his elders.
In the meanwhile 
a glum-faced, shocked  
soldier came near him
and saw his  lifeless body.
No gentleman, he hasn’t bid farewell to the world.
He’s sunk in deep, deep, deep sea of slumber.
Sure,  after sleep he will
wake up with a smile in his lips
‘See, I was playing
pranks on all’ – it would be his response to all.



Thursday, September 3, 2015

DRIVE-IN-PARLOUR


POEM

Driving down a tarred road 
of an unknown village
enjoying the greenery all the way
he came across a board – ‘Drive in Parlour’
with an arrow painting
towards a building a few feet back
which seemed like  beckoning him.
Though a teetotaler since fifteen years
the scent of nostalgia overpowered him,
enveloped him
while recalling the days
he had spent with his close friends 
in several bars and toddy shops
got intoxicated and danced with them
singing aloud.
While on his way
to maturity and subsequent marriage
he decided to put a full-stop
to his wayward life.
But now after fifteen years
on his way through
the unfamiliar, beautiful
landscape of the village
which enthralled him, enchanted him  
a temptation took hold of him
to visit the ‘Drive-in-Parlour’.
True,
his conscience red-flagged him
but the temptation meant temptation
even Jesus had fallen a prey to it
thus wrote Kazantzakis.
He applied the break
and halted it in front of the Parlour.
Cars were parked in the parking space
must be owned by different
visitors to the Parlour and
the watchman led him to a convenient -
place to park his vehicle too.
After coming out
gifting a smile to the watchman
the smell of toddy, fish fry
fried chicken and beef fry….
welcomed him while  even before entering.
And inside he saw his friends
of yester years
who too had pledged to be teetotalers
enjoying merry moments
who were in high spirits
and they, upon seeing him
looked at each other
blushing……
‘Now that, I am caught with
my pants down
now than they too are caught
with their pants down

let me enjoy the maximum’ – he was talking to himself……. 

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

FEAR PSYCHOSIS


POEM

Upon the assumption of power
by an overbearing ruler
barring a few
an inexplicable fear reflects in the eyes
of each citizen.
He remains panic and paranoid each moment
and takes a back foot  
be he a writer, artist
or intellectual.
They can be poets,
novelists, painters or essayists
and for that matter
who pen or sculpt or paint
conveying the message of freedom,
the thirst for freedom.
Those who exhorted us the citizens
to be the torch-bearers of freedom
suddenly withdraw into their shells,
fear gripping them tightly.
The dignity and
greatness of democracy
are put on the back burner
and that
immemorable dictum -
Of the People, For the
People, By the People
the quintessence of   Democracy
is being sucked………….

Monday, August 31, 2015

ROAD TO FREEDOM


POEM

Road to freedom is
narrow, crater-filled,
broken and shattered.
Road to freedom is
a long-winding path
and each one should have
to march  ahead bare-footed.
Road to freedom, like life
has its ups and downs
and the long march makes
all tired, exhausted and
bruised with blood oozing out.
Road to freedom always
demands will, determination and courage
to face all odds including
seemingly insurmountable obstructions.
Obstructions are the rival soldiers
out to force the freedom fighters
put a halt to their onward march.
But,
the ultimate victory is
that of freedom fighters
since they are determined to enter
Road to Freedom………..            


IN A FIX


SHORT STORY

She came late in the night-alone.
Janet auntie was drowned in deep sleep. Repeated knocks on the door startled her and awoke her.
She switched on the light in the room and the one outside. The fan was revolving with break-neck speed. Frowning, she walked towards the door to unlock it.
‘Who is it knocking the door in the thick of the night?’ – she was asking herself.
‘Tell me who is outside?’
And she never forgot to throw her eyes through  the peeping-hole.
‘It’s me auntie, Smitha’.
Janet auntie had already seen her while eyeing through the peeping-hole.
Smitha was clad in tight blue jeans and glimmering yellow T-shirt. Smitha was carrying a back-pack. Smitha was in a pair of polished black shoes. She was wearing neither ear-rings nor any ornaments around her neck.
Janet auntie was actually flabbergasted. She hurriedly opened the door and with her frowning glance let Smitha in.
‘What the hell have you done? Coming alone from afar. How dare you?’
‘Sorry Auntie……I was not alone. My friend Annie was with me till the last stop and she went to her uncle’s flat at East Fort….’ – Janet auntie’s eyes travelled from top to bottom and smelt something fishy.
‘And you came by?’
‘Train. After getting down at the station, I caught a pre-paid taxi. And here I am now.’ – Smitha gave Janet Auntie a sweet but sly smile. Her lips were red and somewhat swollen.
‘When you started from home?’
Auntie was about to grill her and Smitha could hear her heart beating fast. Her heart-beats were like drum-beats.
‘You could have informed me?’ – Janet Auntie’s voice was sad and complaining.
‘Actually I wanted to play pranks on you. To have a pleasant surprise for you……….’- Smitha thru’ her a mischievous smile. Janet Auntie sensed Smitha was hiding something from her – a secret which Smitha was not willing to divulge.
‘Had your supper?’
‘Yeah Auntie. From the train.’ – Smitha responded in a low tone.
‘No I don’t believe you. Come.’ Change your clothes, wear the nightie and have something’ – Janet auntie compelled her.
Smitha was actually not hungry. She did have a sumptuous feast with Ashwin from the lodge cum hotel. And  Ashwin is very much in the city. He did accompany Smitha upto the front of Janet Auntie’s villa and after dropping her there he returned to the same lodge.
Auntie’s compulsion drove her to have something but with reluctance.
‘You must be too tired. It is 1pm now. Go to sleep. Auntie pointed towards the adjacent room. She helped Smitha unroll a new bed sheet and also provided her with a blanket.
Janet Auntie switched off the light in the room. Smitha too switched off the light in her room.
Janet Auntie lay awake, she couldn’t sleep. How could she sleep? She was thinking about Smitha.
‘Smitha is hiding something from me, no doubt. She is a not a type who can travel all the way from home to this city alone? From her childhood days she never dared to travel alone. Even to the church which was not far away from home. Even while in her school and college days the story was the same. And now she claims she has travelled all the way from her far away home with her friend ‘one’ Annie. Actually who gave her company up to the station, rather up to the front of her villa? Somebody must be there.
No doubt. Let me enquire Joyce without Smitha knowing about it.
Meanwhile Smitha too couldn’t sleep a bit. She was sleeping with Ashwin after making love twice or thrice today. What she was thinking about was about him, Ashwin, the ‘bull’ in the true sense of that term.
‘Whole body is aching. Still feeling tired. His sharp nails pierced her skin here and there drawing pictures of blood and her sensitive body parts bruised, felt a burning sensation. And lips too remain sore and swollen.  Whether Auntie might have noticed it? I fear she is suspicious. Then no doubt all hell would break loose. Ashwin you are responsible for all this. If something untoward happens, you prank? I have dedicated myself to you at the altar of love.’
After convincing herself that Smitha has fallen asleep, in the wee hours of the morning Janet Auntie after slowly opening the door and stepped out, dialed to Joyce keeping her ear glued to the cell phone…..with her hand shivering and heart pounding…………..



Sunday, August 30, 2015

GRANDMA’S ADVICE


POEM

Grow up and up, my dear
coconut plant.
Grow taller and taller,
my dear coconut plant.
Bear coconuts aplenty 
in the years to come
thereby impart a meaning
to this meaningless, absurd and nauseating life.
Don’t  be like a barren lady
or a simmering desert
under a burning sun.


Saturday, August 29, 2015

PATTERN


POEM

Haven’t you noticed
birds smoothly fly ahead in the sky
keeping order in the early morning
before dawn from their nests?
Haven’t you watched them
flying back to their nests keeping order
just before sunset
like flypast of aircrafts
on Republic days and such other occasions…..
How come men, women and children’s
thoughts always go topsy-turvy  
in the inner skies of their mind
howsoever hard they try
in the humdrum of daily existence?
We will have to learn to
keep a pattern of the movements  of

our thoughts as also our daily chores…..

Friday, August 28, 2015

FESTIVE AND RESTIVE


POEM

Our land ought to be
in festive mood on this Onam day celebrations.
Instead,
we are in a restive mood.
The sparks of dreams, sorry, our
dreams have died down
since our pockets remain empty
thanks to  the callous indifference
of the powers  that be glued to their chairs
in the air-conditioned cabins.
After slogging it out throughout the day
shedding sweat and tears profusely
our employers throw at us peanuts as our remuneration.
With peanuts in our hands,
if and when we approach the vendors
of grocery and the shops
the owners cock-a-snook at us
leaving us high and dry.
While the haves make it a memorable event
we the have-nots remain restless
with our empty stomachs
on the occasion of our harvest festival……









Thursday, August 27, 2015

EPHEMERAL LIFE



POEM

Like a turbulent sea
suddenly turning calm
Like a fast running
train blaring horns 
all of a sudden and
held upon the tracks
causing the precarious bogies about
to run off the tracks.
Like a bird flying in
the sky flapping wings
effortlessly all of a
sudden gets stuck in the sky.
Like burning tubes
getting fused
within split seconds after installing
on the walls 
each man’s/woman’s
breaths coming
to an abrupt  stop
life on earth is
always ephemeral
like an unknown force

blowing out a flame mercilessly, untimely….