Alone

One day a little girl was running alone through the streets

She ran so wild and fast that she fell down

She let her wounds open and bleeding

So that she won’t forget the mistakes she made

Heeling might make her mistakes oblivious

She thought about her life

It was an age of questions and doubts

All she knew is she alone…she came to the world

Alone…and she will say goodbye to it alone

Alone in her thought s & dreams

Alone in her fights & dilemmas

Why go for companionship when

Happiness or sadness comes

So she has learned to trust herself

And listen to her conscience

All she knew is she is the creator and destroyer

Of her own happiness

A part of my soul

Falling in love with life..

Falling head over heels in all pleasures

Swaying and melting in with a melody…….

My dreams are on fire..

Adrenaline rush at top..ready for anything that life throws at me

Sneering at all those questions

Because all life has is questions and no answers

So why should I search for true answers

When there are million possibilities of answering a question

I answer as I please… to please my arrogance and self-importance

I live in bubble protected by family, love and care

What happens when I am all alone?

When all my efforts are futile

And my imaginary bubble of protection breaks

I will be as vulnerable as a grass in a storm

My mother says new people will come to my life and

I won’t miss what I had lost

How could I afford to forget my past

How could I let my memories blur when I get new people

I can’t let myself laugh without my family

I want them to be engraved to my soul

How much it hurts doesn’t matter…

Let a part of my soul be kept for them

I will cope with what is left

The colour of beauty

The colour discrimination is so into the grass root levels in our Indian society. That means from grandparents to grandchildren all are in praise of the fair skinned beauties. They say the beauty is in the eyes of beholder but still some have some kind of ‘black blindness’…they don’t see the beauty in black coloured skin..One look at the black coloured skin they write it off as ugly and they don’t give a damn about how beautiful they are…Its like the preliminary test of being beautiful is fair skin and if they fail in having the basic qualification of being fair skin they are failed in the being beautiful test
What made me so frustrated is a question my grandmother asked today. My neighbour gave birth to a baby and the first thing my grandma asked after knowing that the baby is a girl is whether she was fair or dark. It’s not only my grandmother but some others also asked that question. I feel so ashamed when I hear that. I mean not even animals discriminate their babies on the basis of colour but still I see that around me.
This colour discrimination in India have roots from the time Aryans came to India about 2000 years ago (there is still controversy over when exactly they came….)..According to historians the Aryans where fair – skinned ones and they hated the original inhabitants who were dark skinned they called them ‘dasa varna’..so ‘varna’ means colour. Then and there was born the concept of low caste having dark-coloured skin…
Our society is so good at picking up bad habits I just wish they won’t pass the colour prejudice to the younger generation. I wish my grandma would stop bugging me to use turmeric on my face to increase my skin glow . Even though I repeatedly tell her that I am happy with my wheatish colour and all ..she just feels that I am trying to hide my disappointment of not having a fair skin. During my childhood times she even made up a story that if I sit near white people I will get more fairer and if I sit near black people I get darker. She may not have thought about the ripples that piece of information made in a young mind. It’s by God’s grace that I got over the whole concept of colour prejudice. I love my grandmother for so much other things but I feel disappointed when she sneers at black coloured people. It’s not just about my grandmother there is lot of others in the society who behave worse than my grandmother. For example, the TV ads of fairness cream. How absurd, stupid and freakingly painful they are..a dark coloured girl who uses the particular fairness cream … she becomes fair within 4 weeks and some prince charming comes and marry her.. if she remains dark(that is if she doesn’t use the fairness cream) you could guess the rest she will have to settle for a secondary type of guy.. no prince charming because prince charming only likes fair girls... I know advertisements doesn’t exactly give morals but when I think about the people who made that advt concept… they are the so called new generation and they are worse than my grandma…………

My summer of ‘99

Well my best childhood memory was the time I spent with my 3 cousins .Those were the days were we saw wonder in all the mysteries of nature .But as we grow up we got all the explanation from the science classes. Human beings can never accept the ignorance, it really hurts their complex if they don’t know something .They make up stories ,gossips or whatever they can if they are not able to find any logical explanation for something .That is how superstitions were born .
It was so fun to think about the imaginary countries we made up when we were kids. How we set up defense, government, wildlife, marine, transport, houses .Well we were mostly interested in guns, war and animals as my playmates were boys and they never agreed to play with barbies and dolls, so for the girly plays I used to invite my neighbour girl, who was almost about my age. I still remember the fun we had planning operations in war, playing dead and the thrill to watch soldiers getting killed in war in movies. We were so ignorant at that time and took pleasure in all that .But when I look back now I see those innocent faces, not knowing the meaning of death or birth, not knowing which is right or wrong, just being happy and playing all the time. At that times our minds were more free, there was no need to think about consequences, no need to measure the words .We could play in the rain and not worry about catching a cold, we could dress up the way we like and don’t care about the commands others say, we could just gobble up anything without worrying about our waistline getting bigger.
A sadist thing we did when we were children was to load the snails (hard shelled big ones….nasty right?) to our toy trucks and dump them in the trash and when the servant came and burned the trash we watched the green and blue flames coming out of those poor creatures. When I think about it…..I feel sorry for those snails that attained martyrdom for our pleasure. Another exciting part was when we went to collect flowers for onam…we exactly didn’t ask the neighbors permission before plucking flowers from their garden….During one such flower plucking expeditions we encountered a snake…we ran howling all the way back to our homes throwing the flower baskets …near that snake……….

Mourning

Most of the spring flowers have fallen
Moist ground soaks up their faded colours
Last of the spring flowers they are
Lost in the seasons change
Almost at the end of their life
Boosting their last drop of energy

Ghosts of the memories
Frost of the night chills

Why does the moon

Smile on me when I mourn

And the stars mock
Why am I such a moron

Looking so morose
So afraid to face the morning

All I want is kindness, a morsel
My sadness is just a monodrama
Maybe it’s because I am a monotheist
What can I do to change my mood
Sing a song once, twice or more

Why am I deaf to others consoling words
Can’t they understand their words r useless
And I am drowning in the sea of misery
With a piece of my heart missing

View from the top

For me preparing for civil service is like swimming against the current. The most contradictory part is I don’t know how to swim. So basically I have no actual experience of how tough it can be. Still the view from the top is what inspires me……..Wonder what it is? See the preparation process can be sometimes tedious and boring. It’s an uphill climb and when I finally reach the top of that mountain I get the view of the beautiful panorama there. I will feel like I am at the top of the world. But a small doubt is creeping within me nowadays whether I will like the view from the top. How to explain that concept……. Let me give an example….I so wanted to read the Harry Potter book 7 badly that I downloaded it from the net and finished reading that on computer from morning 10 to night 2 O’clock. My eye will never forgive me for the strain I put on them. Next day my eyes were red till afternoon. But after reading that book I didn’t feel excited. I think I was more excited before I read it. You know the intuitions about the unknown kept my curiosity level up. So I am a bit afraid whether I will like my life as a Civil servant. Forewarned is forearmed. So what I do is I prepare my mind to go ahead and grab it whether I like it or not. Because my aim along with the good things that I will be able to do for others is my priority and it will be selfish to think about my conformability level. Most of all being a civil servant means sacrificing some thing for the good of nation.

Revolution never dies

Below the cloudy sky
Follow the windy road

Callow youths under the tree
Willow trees near the pond
Wallowing children in the pond

Yellow flowers by the side
Marshmallow scent in the air
Pillow so soft under your head
Shallow dreams are the above said

Hollow voices be hushed
Gallows of silence be extinct
Allow yourself to listen to
Fellow-beings cry for help
Swallow your pains & grieves
Fallow land be made to bear
Mellow fruits and music
Hallowed grounds for the martyrs
Cellos be played in their honour
Mallow flowers over their graves
Billowing flags over their headstone
………The revolution never dies…………