क्या कहूँ?

मैं तुम्हे नही जानता हूँ,
तुम जो अपने ही खून में डूब रहे हो ,
तुम जो गिरते हुए भी किसी अपने को ढूंढ रहे हो,
तुम जो थोडी देर में चुप हो जाओगे,

मैं तुमसे बहुत दूर हूँ,
अपनों का फ़ोन कर चैन की साँस ले रहा हूँ,
और ये भी सोच रहा हूँ की 'तुम' मैं भी हो सकता था,
अभी अभी मेरे सपने भी मेरे साथ खामोश हो रहे होते,

तुम्हारी आंखों में मैं ख़ुद को मरते हुए देख सकता हूँ,
तुम्हारे साथ मैं भी अपनों को खोज रहा हूँ,
और थोडी देर में तुम्हारे साथ मेरे कुछ ख्वाब भी मर जाएंगे...
हमेशा के लिए
शायद मैं तुम्हे बहुत करीब से जानता हूँ

I bleed slowly along with the city that has provided my hopes and dreams.
It gave me music and lyrics.It gave me sports and stories.
It gave me my Identity and my culture.
I die too some.
May our death make it a safer India for our children.

Sikkim Travelogue part -1

If I say it's been long pending, it would be the understatement of the year. I finally decided to put the rough notes I have on my Sikkim travel in the year 2004 as it is. So forgive me for all the bad grammar and misspellings . I hope you have as much fun reading as I had on the tour. To those who were there with me on this trip, hope it brings back some good memories.
I have broken down the post into 3 parts and would be posting them throughout the next week.


1.Chaotic start

“Tum chale jaoge toh sochenge ,
humne kya khoya , humne kya paya.”
Once aboard the train back home, I ask myself this question ‘cause, strangely, I am going back with a heavy heart. Perhaps it's not so strange after all as u feel sad when all the good things come to an end. They have to . Then you remember those things and its your choice whether that you do that with a pang of sadness or with joy and thankfulness.
I am, right now, blank with no memory floating back to make me feel its presence. All my thoughts are as if waiting to explode, shower all their charm and over whelm me. So I have decided to take a plunge and pen down all what I can remember about this trip so as to relive those moments. Take it as a last, frantic try to gather sand in your hand, to fill yourself with nostalgic fragrance and to hold it inside till u can.
What rushes back if I think of the start of the trip, is the calls we made on 21st Dec. in order to meet MC. The chaos of ‘will he , won’t he’ (perennial M.C., more of him as we go along). And finally the decision to go alone to Renukoot, in order to board the train along with VG. Of that journey on bus to Renukoot, all that comes back is dark early morning and a bit of cold. I would have thought nothing of that chill had I known what was coming. The train journey, the guy in that matching sweater (damn!) of all the colors in the world he comes up with the same color as me.
Once we reached Calcutta( sorry , its hard , its Calcutta for me whatever may be its new name), coming out on what we reckoned a street and which was in fact the station, we were just confused due to a car standing in front of us. It was the first time I saw that people can take their vehicles right up to the station or at least have got the facility to do so.
We haggled our way to a taxi and as I sank back inside. Every thing took a back seat and a sort of apprehension started creeping in – an apprehension when u visit some one’s home for the first time, more so when u don’t know the person. This was growing stronger ‘coz of what I felt about this trip from start and telling u what I felt involves a little story titled ‘fifth rider’ .

2. The fifth rider

There were 4 riders ,extremely smart , well dressed , riding on fine horses going somewhere, no one knew who they were ,where they came from or where they were headed to .A big news wherever they went , they produced an awe in the general public. So everyone noticed that they were really fine and acknowledged the sight they presented with praise and wonder. Now there was this guy who saw all four and thought “wow, I should be part of this troop “. He was a clever guy well versed in the ways of this world. He took his dilapidated self out on his carcass of a horse and followed them as the fifth rider. From then on if anyone wondered who they were or what did they do, this fifth guy will speak first “we are going to meet the king. We are on a secret mission”. The thing to notice is the “we” in the sentence. Thus he was able to count himself in, attaching himself to all the glory emanating from the other four and taking all credit to his measly self.
Of course the story is dramatic and not the real representation of the situation I was in. But It does tell how in this world most of the people are fifth riders who don’t work and blah blah….all being fallouts of failure of society as such and what not, but the story is the closest I can get to express myself, as my claim to fame was just being a friend of a friend. I hope I have been able to tell how I felt, always a dicey thing to do, satisfactorily enough. Even the fact that the situation was a little bit similar didn’t help my cause.
I tried to battle out of these fears, by boring VG with some poems of mirza ghalib, coincidentally on Mirza ghalib street and then listening on to all the babble of the taxi driver , all the while taking in the first sights and sounds of Calcutta. By the time we reached Mukundopur I got to know all about real estate surrounding the bypass road courtesy the driver. Alas! if I had enough money I would have invested it there. We met Sudeshna waiting for us wearing a gray jacket and a muffler. Not much change from the last time I saw her except a pimple beneath her nose. She guided the taxi to her home – a place which I must admit I was not able to associate with her at first. The house sitting pretty in a line along with other housed as seen from the street looked well set in rural back ground with grassy land and a few ditches along both sides of the path leading to it from the street. The path itself was of red gravel with small bricks and stones sticking out. There was tranquility about the place, serenity almost natural if u forget the fact that Calcutta is a hustling bustling city over populated as are all major cities nowadays. The house is flanked by small houses on either side. The gate of the house was exactly fitting the place with a mesh of bamboo sticks doing for the gate. Touching the gate was a staircase parallel to the Verandah which brought us inside the porch. Here we were greeted by a scowling dog, a ‘quasi pet’ as Sudeshna put it.
This was the moment I had been dreading and had at last resigned myself to . How would I be taken as? The proverbial ‘fifth rider’?

tu ek khayal hai

My attempt here is not as much to rhyme as to let silences and word gaps be as big a part of the poem as the words itself.


मैं तुझे भूला नही हूँ,

हाँ,
कुछ अरसा हुआ तेरा नाम लिए,
न लेने का वादा जो किया है ख़ुद से,
ये वादा भी..
की
तेरी हस्ती बस एक एहसास है,
तेरी बातें बस आवाज हैं,
तेरे वादे बस अल्फाज़ हैं,
तू तू नही ,
महज ख्वाब है, मेरा ख्याल है,

पर
मैं तुझे भूला नहीं हूँ,

अब जब तू सिर्फ़ एक ख्याल है
और कुछ भी नही,
कभी कभार तुझे सोच लेता हूँ,

कभी तेरे संग गुजारे एक दो लम्हे भी
चुभते हैं...
बर्फ से,
तो कुछ टुकड़े उठा कर,
सागर में मिला पी लेता हूँ,
तेरे खुमार में फ़िर दो पल जी लेता हूँ

(अल्फाज़ - words , सागर - wine cup , खुमार - intoxication)

Ya lagaa mat ilzaam

या लगा मत इल्जाम

या लगा मत इल्जाम की बेमुरव्वत हो गए,
या देख जान-ओ-तन से जुदा दिल जिगर हो गए,

धड़कता है बजाये दिल के, दर्द सीने में,
अब जानलेवा नासूर चारा-ओ-मरहम हो गए

आहिस्ता आहिस्ता उतारा तुमने जिगर में खंजर,
आहिस्ता आहिस्ता लहू के कतरे ग़ज़ल हो गए

तुझे महफिल में देख आंखें फेर लेते हैं,
ऐसे हुए रूसवा सनम, तुझसे हम हो गए,

तेरे दिलकश होंट, नर्म बाहें, गुदाज़ बदन
हुए हम जो जवान तुम भी तो हसीं हो गए,

तुमने भी था सोचा बदलोगे जमाने को,
'अभी' तुम्हारे बुलंद इरादे क्या हो गए?
- अभी
(बेमुरव्वत - Lacking Involvement, चारा-ओ-मरहम - cure and ointment, गुदाज़ - well mixed)
as usual comments are open :)

India win in Perth and first night of arranged marriage

Now if you ,the nameless unfortunate stumbler on to this blog, have had the even greater misfortune of going through the not so considerable archive of posts, you would know that I expertly navigate around anything remotely interesting , current, useful or intelligent.
No sir, I had rather u wallowing in my self deprecating humor than have u aware of this fsmawful mess of the world we live in. If you are about to say that you are already sufficiently aware etc.. save your breath , as I am only sane because I have tightly shut myself away from seeing the mediocrity we dwell in and have become one of the giants of mediocrity myself. Uh-oh I am again about to get into a state of consciousness. Time to close the shop.
Yeah, so sweeping under the carpet all the insightful and terrifically boring talk of my existence , I am breaking the tradition of letting you live in a fantasy land on my blog to mention a current event. No , Don't worry, I would never touch anything disturbing by a 10-foot pole. This is about the Indian win in Perth. Yes there are some things in this world which yet let us think how not f***ed up everything is, which ,believe me, it actually is.
So 4th day of the test match and we were letting them Aussies have it. Sharma bowled a sensational spell. I can bet punter would have sucked his thumb and called his mom later. O.k., I am being mean , he would have just cried quietly in the bathroom , on floor curled in a fuoetal position. So on this remarkable day,we get everybody out , including gilly bowled round the legs by sehwag and are about to finish off a big 140+ win. But then , Johnson and Clark start slogging. Johnson hits 4s repeatedly in a packed leg side field and clark pulls everything outrageously out of reach of groping fielders. In no time they have added 70 runs. Each of Indian players is shocked and angry and continues to bowl tripes at them, hoping they would hole out . Its hugely idiotic. Just bowl line and length damnit! they are tailenders for fsm's sake. By that time I really got annoyed and pissed off. It was just so plain stupid. The victory came soon after but the bitter taste that mediocrity, even though momentary, leaves, stayed for long. I just could not enjoy it as I thought I would.
And that's when I had this glimpse of how the first night of arranged marriage would be or have been for us unfortunate guys and girls who still go through it. I need you to be with me at this point. Consider that you are getting married to a girl/boy you have not really known more than couple of months or weeks. You go through the tortuous meeting of parents , horoscopes , uncomfortable questions. You bat well to deflect the relative of the bride/groom , you try to bowl your mother in law early else she deciphers you and starts hating you before its too late for her to do anything about it. And then you endure the endless rituals on the day of marriage which test your patience and with consummate skill you try to keep the irritation on those relatives from hell to your self. Why? because at the end of it is your prize , You , the 20 something virgin get to have that thing which us Indians love and are hypocritical about , sex.
So you wait and finally its over, you dream of walking to the stage and accepting the trophy of man of the match . But no not yet, apparently your friends are yet to leave and so are the devils(relatives) and imps(their kids) around your better half. Does it sound familiar? just skip two paragraphs above and you would know. Anyway, finally after cursing everyone to their eventual painful death , you get to the best part. Its called sex and its terribly awkward for two naked strangers who have never done anything like it before. Both of you get over with it, hide your face in the darkness and are relieved that it was over,fast.

At 4 in the morning , lying on the bed , seeing Harsha go all ga-ga and rub it into aussies by asking each and every Aussie player he could get his hands on : " I know this must be a new experience , loosing it at home .... " and yet pretending to be the most unbiased commentator ever, I felt just that. Big Relief that it was over. where was the joy?
It came after an hour, I said to myself "wow, even though it sucked at the end , over all it was worth it. We did it. Take that!"
a low 'Yes!' to myself was my celebration. Right then, I could imagine hundreds of newly weds lying on the bed at that very same moment and saying exactly the same thing to themselves.
I know we would be less jittery as we get used to winning more and more as would the specimens of my example as they get it more and more. The future is not that bad if it involves only the above.

suna hai ki

In loving memory of a friend who will be missed.

सुना है कि मौत के हमसफ़र बन चले हो तुम,
हमको खुदा के वास्ते रुसवा कर चले हो तुम

भागते रहे हैं हम पर अब भी हैं दौड़ में,
और तेज़ रफ्तार से आगे निकल चुके हो तुम

ऐसी दुनिया कि जीने को हैं सब मर रहे,
ऐसा दिल कि मर के जी रहे हो तुम

हो या न हो रोज़-ए-क़यामत या जन्नत-ओ-जहन्नुम ,
है तो बस ये बात कि कभी तो मिले हो तुम

रो तो सकते हैं पर अब भी याद है
कि निगाहों से नही जाम से छलकाते रहे हो तुम

गर नही दीवानगी तो और क्या है 'अभी'
इक शोख सांस से उम्मीदें रखे हो तुम


Atul Sharma, may you have as much fun in afterlife as you had in this life.

How i caught a bus and got the girl

How i caught a bus and got the girl

And i dragged myself out of bed. its 8:37 am. The last bus is at 9 am and that makes this as always a 'edge of the seat' affair. My own little battle with time. I take 8 minutes to reach the bus stand so this leaves me with just 15 minutes to get ready.Which days is it? monday and my face automatically takes the form of a grimace.
I can imagine some guy in a cabin sitting and seeing me on his webcam and relating this breathtaking dash to get to bus.
here goes:
Ladies and gentleman its the morning time again. We begin our daily edition of 'the race against time'.
AAAAAAAnnnnnnnnnddd its 8:30 and abhi is up! NO he is not. he sleeps again. Oh man this is a good start.
time is ticking by and the last bus driver must have now twirled his mustache and told wifey that he is gonna get some milk on the way back home.
Wait, there is a movement, the head bobs up, the left leg stirs. All is quite again.
CRASH! there is some noise some where and this finally looks to have some effect on our hero. How fortuitous that the cook decided to drop the glass just now.
Bleary eyed abhi wakes up or not? is he going to sleep again? No he doesn't, He crawls his way to the door and before realizing is straight out of house. No, this is not the way.
i forgot to tell u guys he has just 23 minutes to reach the stand.
and here he gets to the bathroom, there is someone inside and for that practical reason abhi keeps his brush out in his room. He goes to the kitchen sink and brushes and its 5 minutes lost in the process. and then another 5 minutes in 'ahem' the shitty thing and its just 13 minutes left. Would he take a bath today and OH! its brave of him, he is going for the kill.
OH man this is nail biting stuff. He jumps in to the bathroom turns the shower on then takes the clothes of. That can be dealt with in the evening.
It took him all of 3 minutes to do that. now he rushes into cupboard and wait! he has no shirt and no time. What will he do? press the shirt?
NO..Time to plunder and loot. Rushes to room mates cupboard and takes out his best shirt and mind's eye flashes on to the Anju who sits at the last corner seat in bus.Today should be a good day to talk with her. Abhi always looks good in borrowed things.
And there is a vigorous head shake. Trying to clear the momentary cobwebs in brain aside, Abhi puts the clothes on and then starts the search for his socks. Where did he keep it? Listeners if u remember that one time when he missed the bus because he had kept one sock in the shoe and other had mysteriously cropped up in his bag when he had gone to the office with one sock. Abhi is wary of sock hunting. He knows they have a mind of their own. He also knows they can walk and hide in the places which only the blackest of soul knows. Abhi respects the power that socks have. Its the respect that Moby dick garnered from that captain jack - the one legged captain. And he starts with the shoe rack. No its not there and he runs back and looks at watch.
Its 8:52. He should have started by now. Runs to the room. Looks beneath the bed , in the drawer, behind the computer,in the bag,on the table,behind the doors and phew! inside the bed sheet. Its not there.
and it is 8:53.
It looks the war is lost. Abhi is going to miss the bus because of evil, scheming socks. Right now he is just running mindlessly around the house. There is an image floating in his mind. If he missess the bus today , boss will certainly fire him. Some where he feels a giant wheel full of rupees and dollars that just crashed into the wall of destiny and is lying in pieces.
GASP! Abhi has stopped. He remembers seeing it somewhere in morning and it comes to him. The flash of inspiration which we always see champions have when fighting in the face of adversity.
He rushes to the bathroom and YES! there it is on the clothes stand. There is no time to wonder how did they climb the clothes stand. even though they reached the bathroom which as already explained happened because socks have small furry legs.
He ties the shoes and mind you this is the time when ordinary mortals drop their shoulders, resigned to the fact that the battle is lost. But they are not made up of the stuff Abhi is made of. He jumps up and snatches the bag and rushes out of the room. He always keeps the lock and the key together(thank god for that) and as he turns the key and hears the click of the lock , suddenly the key is gold and it has victory written all over it. No, its not, he was just imagining it again.
Abhi jumps the first 4 stairs and groans. Oh damn! he has locked the cook and 2 of his room mates inside.
Its 8:56. This is the time to take tough decisions. he turns and throws the key in through the open window. It hits the cook in the eye and he drops the teapot . Abhi had a glimpse of someone howling and hopping in pain.
But Ladies and gentlemen he is off!
The tie flies to his right as he runs towards the bus stand with the bag on his left shoulders. Ladies swoon! its a picture of Shahrukh jumping out of helicopter and making a run for it to meet his mom in K3G. Albeit 'ahem' he was not wearing formal clothes and a tie. But that is the last thing on our hero's mind as he sprint to the bus stand.
And there it is , the bus stand in sight or is it victory he is staring at?
But NO!!!! in super slow motion he sees the bus come to a screeching halt in front of the stop. People are getting in and damn it! the bus is on time. he is still 20 feet away. He is not gonna make it. Sorry folks today is a sad day. Bus has started again.. it lurches forward. and our hero is running with flailing arms and flying tie and our hero keeps on running.Oh the heart of the guy and more the tragedy of it. Such monumental effort and all for a lost cause. I bow before thee Abhi in lieu of all our listeners. You may have lost the fight but you have won hearts with your courage and will power. Age will remember this legendary duel and parents would pass the tale to the next generation. You are an icon Abhi.
But what is this? Bus has stopped after going two paces. How can it be? did the driver spot him? or did some angel come and made the driver stop?
No its Anju who was running for the bus from the front. Anju gets in and there is a car coming but Abhi feels invincible now. He jumps in front of the car , maneuvers between two bikes and is onto the bus in flash.
Panting he sits besides a beaming Anju. OH how romantic. They are made for each other. He is lost once again as an image flashes past him.
Abhi feels as if he has just completed the trek to mount everest and is hoisting the Infosys flag there.

And that dears is the most exciting thing that happens to me in the whole day. You know what I mean. But still I feel like i just did complete a trek to everest.
Catch ya tomorrow then i have ,strategy of catching the bus at the last moment, to discuss with Anju.
Ciao