Bombay Anthologies

#1

The images past my train’s window changed
deserted lands giving way to exploited ones
stations went by as if the train was ignoring them
stations, with names showing a greater range 
of possibilities than life
outside, the madness was evident from 
the swarms of faces showing 
a multitude of expressions
the randomness of movements gave
an illusion of a harmonic symmetry
making my eyes twinkle 
the city, I sensed, saw 
it through the glass
and our fates intersected 
both welcoming the change

#2

My hair was revolting against 
the incoming fury of air
water, born just to bow down
tripped down my eyes
my clothes were making noise
grunting against the slaughter
my hand held the rod
tighter now
as the speed increased
the sound of its mighty horn
was heard across the seas 
I saw another one coming towards me
my body was giving up now
my mind, though, in vertigo
felt peace 
it slowed down
the warriors’ strength decreasing 
the commons’ increasing
and I parted with the rod 
both mourning as lost lovers

THE OTHER SIDE

The other side, are you listening? You cannot come and go as you like. You cannot manipulate me to do devilish deeds. You cannot render all my thoughts obsolete. You cannot break me into bits and pieces and then expect me to be complete, again. You cannot take me away to a faraway land when each and every conscious cell in my body wants to stay. You sadist!,  planting seeds of aggression and violence in my mind and making me watch while they grow into dark trees. 

The switch to the other side is spontaneous, similar to thinking. It is really beautiful how our minds work, with billions of thoughts fighting each other to see the light of consciousness. You have programmed my mind to make some thoughts win, always. You have controlled my mind like heroin controls the desires of addicts. You make me do things whose guilt I have accumulated for years. Happiness is a state of mind, people believe; you treat it as a thought which can always be discarded by others. I am happy now, I want to say but you laugh as if I cracked a joke. You are me and I am you, both inseparable like people in love. I could say you are the most powerful magnet and I am iron but I know the attraction is far higher. You are as sinister as they come, even the most cruel personalities bow down to you. Can’t you find another muse?, can’t you care?, can’t you let me breathe for once? and can’t you leave as bad habits eventually do? 

I have a beautiful life here, I don’t want to move between here and there. You know how painful it is for me to return? Think of a million people using all their strength to hold you back and you are moving in the opposite direction, think of a moth running away from light, even though it is his biggest desire, think of a fish moving away from water to live on land, think of a lover handing over the hand of his beloved into some other hand, and think of a mother killing her son herself; think of these and a thousand others and combine them. My pain is higher. 

I am loved and am in love. Is it so difficult to comprehend? When I am in you all I am is a body bereft of soul and emotions, a body capable of only hurting and not caring. I will be alone, all alone eventually. This is what you want, right? I think this is what you need to take full control over me. Try all you want, try all you need. I made a promise, a promise that was heard even by you, a promise sacred than the holiest places out there, a promise which inspires me to live, and a promise which will overshadow all your darkness.

Get lost, the promise says.

CLICHES

Cliché

I hate cliches, I really do

I hate it to the extent of loving it

Missing you, is what someone said

Cliched thought, I thought

Unique feeling, I concluded

I miss you too, I replied

No other word came to me, my gigantic palace was empty

Cliche I used, Cliche I had

Missing your voice, missing the pause you take between words,missing your smell, missing your lips, missing your crooked nose,missing your perfect eyebrows, missing your hair, missing your lust,missing your laugh, missing your silence, missing your wisdom,missing your touch, missing your walk, missing your soul,I could have added, yet refrained

Missing you is all I could tell

Feel like hugging you, she said once

I would want that, I naively reacted

I want to hold you between my arms, lift you high to match my eyes,kiss you passionately till the world ended, look into your eyes even thoughI can’t, blow air from my mouth to see your hairs playing mischievously

 I could have reacted, yet I was scared

Cliches trigger a set of emotions that is extraordinary,unlike the word itself

Cliches are important, I realised

Oh! what I could have said, what I could have done

Cliches created the impact, emotions destroyed it

My feelings are cliched now, some cliches are becoming special

Universe is behaving the wrong way, again a cliche I infer

I want to be left alone, a cliche I add to the previous one

Cliches define the world, a cliche to end this cliched epiphany

My Superpower

Initially when the ‘effects’ kicked in, I was not able to hear anything; a pin-drop silence surrounded me, a silence that teachers dream of in their classrooms. After a couple of minutes (could be less!), my hearing started to come back, but it was different. I could hear from the quietest to the loudest sounds and able to differentiate between them at the same time, an occurrence that was novel to me. In fact, I could switch from hearing one thing to another in a split of a second. I could blur a sound and focus on one, similar to the way images are clicked in a digital camera. I was alone and was somewhere peaceful in the outskirts of my city, I thought. But reality kicked in faster than the ‘effects’ when my friend patted me on the back. I was standing in the middle of a road, thankfully, on a divider. Have you lost it? my friend reacted. I thought I heard something, I replied lamely. He escorted me back to the side of the road where our ride was parked. For me, crossing the road was nothing less than doing crazy stunts in a Jackie Chan movie. The relief when I crossed the road was unmatched. I tried to concentrate on the sounds again, worried that I had lost my superpower among all this unnecessary travelling (crossing a road was like travelling to some other place). I could still differentiate between the sounds and blur them to my requirements. Yes!, I cried.

I was eager to decipher other powers that I might have gained. Once I found myself sitting in my friend’s car (the ride!), my thoughts drifted towards music.  I wanted to listen to music the moment I discovered my superpower, the reason being that I wanted to know what would happen if I was exposed to coordinated sounds (a song maybe) instead of uncoordinated ones (such as that on the middle of the road). A known bollywood song blasted through the speakers once I switched on the car’s music system. Result of exposure to that song was overwhelming. I could imagine each and every instrument playing simultaneously.  Such was the level of my involvement that I could imagine how the singer would have sung that song by placing myself in his shoes. I was not in the car anymore, I transported to a recording studio with musicians playing their piece and me singing my heart out. I looked through the glass of the studio to see the reaction of my music director but instead of him nodding to my flawless singing, I saw a cow crossing the road while our car stood still. I was transported back to reality and the glass I looked through was of the car’s front and not of the recording studio. I switched off the music out of the fear that I might never return to reality if exposed again. I narrated this incident to my friend who was on the driver’s seat. Instead of finding my story frivolous he listened intently and after I had completed my narration, he told me his own version of how he believed that the car was flying.We laughed, thinking how stupid we might sound to anyone else.

Suddenly out of nowhere I had the strongest urge to eat. I conveyed my feelings of hunger to my friend who reciprocated with the same feeling. We rushed to the nearest dhaba and ate like the world was going to end. The effects were decreasing, I could sense that. After we finished eating my superpower was gone. I was no longer a mutant.

Let me rewind back a little. What did I take in the beginning?

What all Do I have now?

Childhood

I questioned everything in my childhood. Not that I don’t raise questions now, the degree and nature of questioning was surely higher and abstract respectively when the amount of responsibility on my shoulders was less. You see today I don’t have time to invest in these trivial questions. Back to my childhood, I was always curious about everything. Why did it happen like that?, what will happen when I do this rather than that?, why does the sun have to set so that night could come?, why do I am the one who always has to go out to bring sweets for guests and not my sister?, what happens when someone dies?, why do I have to save my head when someone dies?, why can’t girls looking like Madhuri Dixit found in streets beside my home? were some of the million questions that reverberated in my mind. I heard from someone that a scientist is the one who finds answers to all unanswered questions. So, I wanted to be a scientist; this way I could get rid of all the noises in my head and be at peace. Then again what would a child know about peace? There is a song in a movie called Rock on! which goes like this: aasman hai neela kyun, paani geela geela kyun, gol lyun hai zameen? which translates roughly to: Why is the key blue?, why is water wet?, why is earth round?. I think this phase of my existence can be linked up to this song.
I could make friends easily, used to play a lot, and ate a lot. I liked talking a lot, talking about anything as long as my hunger for curiosity was satisfied. Then I turned silent. I joined School.

School

The questions were decreasing as my age was increasing. Logic took over imagination, reasoning took over creativity, and shrewdness took over innocence. My father told me repeatedly that education shapes a person’s character, and so I walked on the road illuminated by him. My father is a very wise man, I knew that from the moment I added the word ‘wise’ into my vocabulary. Convincing my father of my capabilities was my utmost priority; so I behaved like an obedient, studious, and hardworking child behaves. I excelled in academics and sports and stayed away from abusive seniors, pretty girls and night outs. I was doing the right thing, I thought. My teachers were singing songs of my praise, parents were urging their sons/daughters to be like me and my father was happy. I had crushes but ignored them because being in a relationship was a taboo for me. What would my father think?, how will I convince him that my hormones took over my thinking?. These were the only questions that echoed in my mind. I lived my school life without living it. If a song is used to represent this phase of my existence it has to be sari umra hum mar mar ke jee lie, is pal to ab hame jine do jine do which translated to all my life I have been living like I am dying, let me live this moment, from the movie 3 idiots. My monotonous life was about to change. College was next in line.

College

 Ah!, when I think of college I can not help but smile ear to ear. What days those were. Initially, my morals, ethics, and values were so strongly induced in me that college was another school. A point of note here, I am not criticising my father for raising me up that way; in fact I am grateful to him because I am who I am because of him, I respect him immensely and will learn from him till my dying breath. Now back to my blabbering. The most difficult thing that I did in college was not learning electrical machines, or writing code, it was letting go; letting go of all the stereotypes that had grown in my mind all these years. No, talking and hanging out with girls is not bad, no, laughing and making jokes about your friends involving a little amount of profanity is not blasphemy, no, the word ‘sex’ is not like the word ’voldemort’ which cannot be uttered loudly in open, and no, failing in exams is not the end of the world. I completely let go. College transformed me from a confused and scared child to an outspoken and rebellious adult. So the song for this part of my life has to be from a movie very close to my heart ,i.e, Udaan; the song is aazadiyan (look it up, no amount of translation can do justice of the beautiful poetry that this song has) 

So, what all do I have now?

I have experiences that are engraved in the nerves of my brain and will cease to go until I have Alzheimer’s , an attitude which I could only dream of when I was in school, and most of all confidence.

I also have an iPhone, a macbook air and a library of books but who cares?

RAIN OH RAIN, BLESS ME WITH THY POWER!

Why do people own umbrellas?

This is a question that reverberates in my mind every time I see someone escaping the heavenly drops under a man-made cover. Take for instance last week, I saw a kid using an umbrella to escape from the tears that the cloud shed.

Kids are meant to enjoy the rain, play until tired and then play again, and conduct races with paper boats. When I saw that kid walking silently with face full of sadness, I realized that it was not her primary choice. I wanted to yell at her parents but my sanity overcome the worst of me. Aren’t we supposed to embrace the rains, the beautiful and heartwarming rains whose droplets create a symphony even Mozart would have appreciated?

As an engineer let me conduct an analysis of rains. It is very difficult for me to stay unbiased as I am in love with them but I will try my best to outline the benign as well as malign effect of rains.

Coming to the points in favor; the first one that strikes my mind is a cliche, i.e., 'petrichor'.

You are travelling on a road when you realize that the clouds are giving up on you, they are no longer illuminated by the lights of your beloved Sun, and instead they have turned dull as if someone has opted for a different color option for them.  The Sun, like I said, is nowhere to be seen and has cowardly hidden to prevent itself from the wrath the clouds are to deliver. Just then a tiny insignificant droplet falls on your face acting as a cue to hide yourself. You, then, hide underneath a shed only to encounter bliss. The bliss you realize is coming from the soil underneath you. The first droplets have created something magical once they touched the ground. They created PETRICHOR.

The second one is 'peace'. 

After getting out of the trance of smelling God's scent, you suddenly realize that the downpour has increased. You quickly shift from the edge of the shed to its center so that you don't get wet. Suddenly, out of the blue, you have an epiphany; all the noises have ceased and the only sound you hear is of the water being splashed as it hits the ground. All the background music has stopped and you are an audience of a single instrument being played. You fell different, you have never felt so isolated before, you are in complete PEACE with yourself. You are high, high on peace. You go into trance yet again thinking of memories that were buried deep inside you and could not see the light of the day due to your mind's preoccupation with mundane routine, the routine acting as an evil and disintegrating your mind slowly. You think of your first love, your first heart-break, your parents, your friends and finally of the direction in which your life is headed.

But then, I don't know about you; this, according to me, is the ultimate PEACE of mind not corrupted by malign.

The third one is 'expressing yourself'.

After having experienced petrichor and peace, you no longer want to stay confined in your shed; you want to run and feel the droplets falling on your face, you want to love again, you want to dance until your legs give up, you want to sing your heart out even if you suck at it. 

This my friend is 'expressing'. Expressing yourself when you are alone is the first step to express yourself to others. You need to be in love of yourself, to appreciate yourself and to appreciate solitude in order to acknowledge someone or something.

You realize that you have changed after the incident. The rain has stopped and you come out of your shed (pun intended) and proceed to where ever you were going but this time with a wide grin on your face and a changed perception towards life in your mind.

Whoa!!!! Finally an end to the points supporting rain.

Coming back to the analysis of points in opposition, I lied.

I just cant see any ill effects of rains. I am so attached to it that I cannot look at rains as an outsider.

There are floods due to rains, crops gets destroyed and many more. But I prefer to look away.

Love is blind, someone has said. 

RAIN, keep blessing me with your power till I end, keep teaching me something different every-time we have our little encounters and keep dirtying me till I learn to clean myself.

POETRY, Where were you?

Its been a very long time since I wrote poetry, seems like ages ago. I really wanted to write something, something reflecting my inner feelings. So here is a try, for I am an amateur: 

Every time I look up from my office's chair, I see the outside world through the inside windows

It is surreal, unlike anything I have ever seen

It's the same mundane world, my friend says
Just sit on my chair and look through my eyes, I react

He dismisses my frivolity with a smirk, while I succumb to my seriousness with a bleak smile

I see the sun shining brightly, with each ray enlightening my eyes with wisdom, bringing hope for freedom

Only I can look through your soul, he remarks
I am taken aback, but happily give myself to the Sun to devour

He claims to show me the future
Oh yes! the future
A good one you suppose
Well, I don't know for my eyes see nothing;only darkness prevails

Don't pity me, don't judge me, I shout
Leave me alone for I am a seeker of solitude

Why are you still looking at me?
Just Go away!
I am not used to be looked at by anyone

I am in a theater, I think, with everyone maneuvering my each step
The world is a stage, someone has said

But I don't want to perform!
I don't want to play anyone other than self

Suddenly, I snap back to reality, with the sun gone, nowhere to be found
I then hear a familiar voice in my head

Let the show begin!

A DIVINE ACQUAINTANCE

Whoa!
Two posts in a single day. That is way beyond expectations. I don't know what happened to me, I guess the writing bug is doing its deed. 

So, behold fellow viewers for I am going to try my pen at something new, something different (well, not by social media standards) and something inspiring. So here it goes:

No, said the eight year old kid, I will not take your money unless you let me polish your shoes.

I was taken aback, was surprised at the level of morality I just witnessed. The thing is that no one rejects money, and it is a divine gift if we are being paid for doing nothing. But, this child made me feel guilty, he made me realize that how morals and ethics define your character and make you the person you are. 

I offered again, this time being more persistent. 

He declined, again. I was astonished, again.

I really wanted to give some money to the kid, so I succumbed to his demands. I handed over my shoes to him, frowned with disgust (seeing him, then me), and then started a conversation, for the kid was extremely sociable and I needed some enlightenment.

Do you go to school?, I asked. 

Yes, he replied while diligently polishing my shoes and added, I don't go to a proper school; there is a didi who teaches me. She is very sweet and there is a group of other kids who study with me, he said with happiness in his eyes and swiftness in his hands.

That is amazing, I remarked and further asked,  where are you from?

I am from Ajmer (a city in Rajasthan), he answered with his hands still busy in cleaning my shoes.

Ajmer is a fine place!, I exclaimed; I would love to go there someday.

He listened intently while multi-tasking, looked at me, smiled mischievously and continued polishing.

Meanwhile a tourist from Taiwan enters the scene. Apparently, he was standing close by listening to our conversation (well, he must have figured out what was happening!). The kid, who was almost finished polishing my shoes, jumped at the sight of the foreigner.

Sir, do you want me to polish your shoes? (He said this in impeccable English!)

I am wearing sports shoes, the tourist managed to say to which the kid replied,  it doesn't matter sir, I will make it shine.

The tourist looked at me, smiled, changed his gaze towards the kid and took a 100 Rupees note from his wallet. The kid would not take the money (as expected). Only after a lot of convincing from me and the tourist he did. Nevertheless, he cleaned the shoes of the Taiwanese with a cloth.

I was mesmerized, again.

My shoes were sparkling with the kid's labor. I was left spellbound with his work. I handed him the money, this time he took it happily and just when he was about to run off I asked:

Naam to bata de yaar! (tell me your name)

Salman, he replied laughing.

This is the only photo I have of him!

#START-UP INDIA - A CATALYST FOR HOMEGROWN INNOVATION?

I have been writing about places, music, books, and of course my beloved Delhi. This time I am posting something that is different to the topics that I generally choose, something related to the affairs of my country, India. So here it goes:

According to The Economic Times, the startup ecosystem in India ranks third globally with a growth rate of forty percent, unperturbed by the recent economic downturn all around the world. The Indian economy, in fact, grew at a rate of 7.5% in fiscal year 2015, outpacing even that of China (6.9%). Faith of investors is shifting towards India, as evident from the large number of investments being made by Chinese giants, such as Alibaba and Tencent Holdings in Indian startups, such as Paytm and Practo, respectively. The popularity of startups is further bound to increase after Prime Minister, Shri Narendra Modi, announced the Start-up India Policy. This Policy will complement the ‘MAKE IN INDIA’ campaign which was started in September, 2014 and together they are expected to drive entrepreneurship and innovation in India.

The Policy is expected to drive innovation and assist the startups to establish themselves firmly in the Indian market. Incentives, disclosed by the Policy, such as setting up of seven research parks in Chennai with investments of Rupees hundred crores each, launching innovation programs for students, and grand challenge program awards of Rupees one million to twenty students in innovation from the innovation entrepreneurship development centers, will assist in boosting innovation in India.

A plethora of other incentives to help strengthen the startup culture in India are also included in the Policy. Incentives related to tax, such as income tax exemptions up to 3 years and exemption on capital gains, are lucrative for the startups. Additional incentives, such as funding support (Government of India has put aside Rupees 10,000 crores for this purpose), creating start-up hubs in national institutions, bringing startups together by holding national and international level festivals, and a faster exit scheme for startups whose ideas fail to take off, add to the attractiveness of this Policy. Also, a mobile application is expected to be launched in April, 2016 to serve as a single platform for the startups to exchange information and interact with government and regulatory institutions. This app will ensure that the startups can be registered, through the app, in one day, thus reducing paperwork and saving time.

The Policy includes several measures to boost the creation of Intellectual Property (IP) assets. A startup making a new product or process, i.e., creating an invention, will be able to enjoy certain incentives including fast tracking of patent applications, eighty percent rebate in filing fees (of a patent application), etc. A liberalized patent regime has also been proposed to help startup businesses to register patents. The Policy also proposes to set up a Start-Up Intellectual Property Protection (SIPP) scheme to facilitate filing of patents, trademarks, and designs. Under this scheme the Policy proposes to provide IP services to the startups, through facilitators, under the aegis of the Controller General of Patents, Trademarks, and Designs, to file for patents easily and swiftly at no cost to the startups.

India is not the first country to implement a special Policy for startups. Similar policies have been in action in countries like Chile and South Korea. Start-up Chile, for instance, was launched in 2010 with an aim to attract potential entrepreneurs from all around the globe to work on their startups in Santiago, Chile’s capital city. Today Start-up Chile has over two thousand applications vying for the hundred available spots, and in addition has been ranked at twenty in the 2012 Compass Global Startup ecosystem report. Thus, Start-up Chile provides a benchmark for measuring Start-up India Policy’s success over the next couple of years.

In conclusion, easier filing of patent applications with the help of facilitators, income tax exemptions, reduction of red tape, collaborating with national institutions in India to create start-up hubs, and ultimately providing more employment opportunities to the people are some of the major highlights of this Policy. In 2014, 3100 startups were registered in India with a projection of more than 11,500 by the end of 2020, which shows how eagerly entrepreneurs are waiting to unleash their ideas. It certainly appears that the Policy has come at the right time to provide a much needed fillip to the startup ecosystem in India. The incentives outlined by this Policy should prove beneficial for setting up of new startups provided they are implemented efficiently and in the true spirit of the underlying objective of transforming India into a Global Economic Hotspot.

The love which I have for Delhi is unmatched!

There is not a single moment when you leave my thoughts. Your curves linger in my memory trying to overpower all my other thoughts, making me mad and sometimes transcending me to another world. Your heart, your pure and benign heart, is so naive that many have used it, ruined it.

I swear to your immortal beauty that I will kill them all, all those who have violated you, have dumped your mighty name and lowered your dignity in the eyes of others.

I am stubborn!! Do you know that?
My stubbornness is higher than the heavenly Himalayas, deeper than the oceans and tougher than diamond; this stubbornness makes me come back to you from any corner of the mighty universe.

I am a hopeless soul, a wandering spirit, an unending story, a story which will see its end upon your sight. Your glory shines in my eyes like food in hungry man's. You will always be that mystical thing that has captured my heart.

You are ancient, yet full of youth, exploited yet pious, despicable yet gorgeous.

Though many have betrayed you, I will worship you, will praise you. Its this distance between us that is killing me, destroying me from inside and believe me when I say this:

I will be no more if I don't get you

I love you DELHI...

The streets of Ghalib's delhi

The Streets of Ghalib's Delhi

Every time I come out of Chandni Chowk metro  station, I take the exit to the old Delhi railway station.  It’s not that I like the spoiled condition of Delhi’s roads in the vicinity of the station or the sweat clad faces of thousands of passengers just wandering by waiting for their trains to come, it’s the lives they are living or they would live while travelling that intrigues me. I envy each and every one who is entering the old fort like structure to go off to somewhere. The fort of the old station shines in my eyes like a lollipop in a child’s. I wish every time that the next time my exit from the metro station should  result in boarding a train going someplace, someplace calm, someplace where the monotony of my life doesn’t consume me.

 Anyways moving from dreams to reality, I visited Chandni chowk for the millionth time today for a   reason completely different from the one which inspired me to write this article. Chandni Chowk or should I say Old Delhi is the place that gives Delhi its identity; It would not be wrong to say that it is the heart of Delhi’s body that pumps  oxygen throughout it, making it live. It’s a hot-spot destination for all the tourists and even the fellow Indians who come to Delhi the first time and when I say ‘hot-spot’ I mean literally, the extreme levels of heat both from the atmosphere and the bodies of the people justify it. I believe that it is the mighty history attached to the place that attract even the laziest souls (like me) to wander its streets with so much enthusiasm. I feel like Mirza Ghalib every time I come here, searching for a perfect couplet to describe its beauty. Many say that Old Delhi has lost its charm since the days of the Mughals, looking at its buildings which are in ruins or the crowd which scares the hell out of any outsider. But I like these buildings and absolutely love the crowd; it’s one of the places in Delhi where the crowd acts like an attraction rather than repulsion. About the charm, it is still there, you just need to step out of your comfort zone and explore the hell out of the place covering inch by inch to discover it. 

Coming back to what I did today, I had an experience of a lifetime; I attended the light and sound show at the Red Fort. It’s a shame really that I had not heard of this show even after living my shameful existence for twenty one years in the beautiful capital. The show is a steal at sixty rupees an adult individual (Indian obviously); its aim is to give the audience a taste of Indian history, from then to now seen by the eyes of the fort itself. The show is amazing with the surround sound like nothing heard before and light mimicking marvellously each and every beat that the sound makes.  The narration beautifully blends the tale of the capital and to some it might appear as a musical of some sort.

The fort has seen things unimaginable to the eyes of the mortal; from the peak to the downfall of an era that dignified our country to be called the ‘Golden Bird’, from the reign of its creator to the mass looting from its destroyer, from the poetry of Ghalib and Zauq to the dance of the voluptuous prostitutes, the fort has witnessed everything. It is still standing as a symbol of what our country was and will continue to be for the centuries to come.  At the show’s end our National anthem was sung; never have I been this proud to sing it with my heart out.
 This ends my adventure for today and what a mighty one it was!
I would like to conclude this article by citing a couplet from the famous poet Zauq:
“kaun jae zauq par dilli ki galliyan chor kar”

Road From Hell to Salvation

                 From hell to salvation

I love the British show, Doctor Who. My ears are very sensitive to the word 'doctor'; the attraction is unlike anything I have experienced. I mean, how cool is time travel? Getting into the TARDIS ( for all you muggles out there, the tardis is the spaceship of the doctor in which he travels all around the universe ) and flying away with the most intelligent person (say Alien) is legendary. Forget about travelling to countries, continents or islands when you can travel to distant stars, galaxies or nebulas being the doctor's companion. It sure as hell brings out the geek in me. But why a sudden mention of Doctor Who? I need a beating every time I make an introduction which is not even remotely related to the content of my article. But I can have a pass this time because its Doctor Who; I couldn't resist sharing my fandom for this show. I will try though, to connect this introduction with the rest of the article.
                 
                   CHAPTER 3
I concluded my last chapter of this so called travelogue with a cold and bitter experience. After the day's disaster, while I was sleeping that night I dreamt about being one of the companions of the doctor. Yay!! My memory has aided me once again. So such a vivid description of the show is the courtesy of my dream where my subconscious was making fun ( or let say bringing relief  ) of(to)my pathetic existence. The uncertainties of the future were haunting me (haunting still) and in the doctor I sought refuge. I slept and dreamt of flying away to the lost stars while striking beautiful thought provoking conversations with the doctor. I shouldn't have been that cynical about the next day as it turned out to be exemplary. My only mistake the previous day was that I neglected the cries of my inner traveler and went along with my friends as my guide. The next day was different, I could feel it in the air as I woke up. My conscience proved to be right. I went on to travel that day's quota but this time only two friends accompanied me. Now, I believe in solo travelling but if you have companions, the lesser the merrier. We decided to travel to South Bombay this time and our first stoppage was at 'HAJI ALI DARGAH'. You can get all the information you need from the dargah's wikipedia page, I will be sharing my spiritual (well sort of) experience. Talking geography, the dargah is situated half a kilometre away from the main land. Its actually like an island situated with sea on all sides except its entrance path, of course. The journey from the main land to the dargah was a pilgrimage which I often do and enjoy. I was happy and sad at the same time; happy because at the end of my journey the dargah would unfold like a butterfly from its cocoon and sad because of all those handicapped beggers sitting on the pathway to the shrine who have  different lives with different motives. I empathise with them but cannot do anything for them right now (I will someday). Thinking about them will push me away from the thought process that I am currently in. So coming back to the mythical journey, I reached its main entrance and how splendid it was. It was an entrance to heaven if there is any. Once I entered, I paid my respects at the shrine and headed towards  an area within the dargah where a lot of people were gathered. I knew something surreal was happening there; it was a Sufi qawaali. Qawaali is a form of singing in a group which is enchanting and takes you to another dimension. Listening to a qawaali at God's house is the closest you can get to the almighty and closer I went with every verse. The singing was divine and I was uplifted from my worries for sometime into the air which was calm and peaceful. My meditation at the dargah ended after some time and I proceeded with this lifetime experience in my mind.

After the holy visit, I went to the 'Chowpatty Beach'. Now in my last article, I shared that how painful it was to spend time at the Juhu Beach; well, it was the opposite this time. The number of people were moderate and the beach was clean. Street food were available in abundance from vada pao to pav bhaji and were delicious. I spent almost five hours there just breathing in the air the wind carried from far away lands. The water was welcoming and I walked alongside it on the shore for hours. The feeling when cold water from the sea pushes your feet is indescribable. I was happy there, happy as anyone could get. There was a sense of relief which is rare in my life. I felt like Frodo baggins felt after destroying the one ring into the fires of mount doom (LOTR bitches).
My last stop was at the queen's necklace, the Marine Drive. We walked from Chowpatty to the Drive reaching there at night. It was beautiful as seen in a lot of movies. Sitting on the beach and watching the sea perform was an experience you cannot get in any theatre. I sat there and kept thinking that this feeling will end somtime. But I made a promise to myself to come back to that same spot once again and with that promise my day ended and I headed back to the college with exceptional memories floating in my head.

JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF HELL

CHAPTER 3

Don't you just love fantasy?

Well, not the kind of 'fantasy' which we all are privy to but the kind 'Tolkien' unravels in his masterpiece- "The lord of the Rings'.(LOTR)

I don't live here, in this sadistic,hypocritical, stereotypical, yet compelling world. I live in the 'Middle Earth', a land of Tolkien's imagination, a land where folks live peacefully, discrimination is unknown of and when evil comes all fight together instead of blaming and cutting each others throats.

This is all I have been thinking lately, a different world with different people having different agendas. Even though my LOTR trance is not over I would like to come back to the 'real' world. I cannot forget my time in BOMBAY, even though it is the last day of the world and a new world in beginning. 

So here I am, late again, apologetic again wondering whether my guilt has changed again to a nonchalant attitude which makes me this lazy procrastinator, this self absorbed narcissist(I went far, didn't I?) who prefers bed to pen.

I write when I have to, when deadlines start to fuck me over, in every position imaginable. I write when I wait, wait for someone's message, someone's acquaintance, someone's apology or someone's approval. It proves that actually I am the worst writer in the history of writing whose muse is waiting. But looking at it optimistically, I do have a muse which will not fade away with time(waiting is constant, you have to wait for something no matter what all your life). My muse is robust, its adamant for not leaving me. 

My my,How lucky am I?

Writing is like switching thoughts. The switching process is not very efficient though; I have wasted a lot of thinking power on this chapter's introduction and the main act is yet to begin. I still have some energy left and before It converts to some other form (energy is conserved; that's right, PHYSICS bitches) let's begin.

A JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF HELL

I need to be reminded every time that where am I.  

Oh yes!! I had reached the paradise city, was well accommodated and was ready to fly like a bird. The first day in BOMBAY was 'dull' ( and believe me 'dull' is the nicest word that I can come up with). Instead of listening to my inner traveler, I visited some of the most cliched places Bombay is known for. Take for instance THE JUHU BEACH, we all(Indians) have been hearing about this beach since our childhood seeing all those bollywood( that's the name of our film industry) movies. But it is a shitty place. Believe me when I say that Delhi's metro is less crowded than that damn beach( and I am talking about working hours here). For people managing the beach, cleanliness is a myth. I went there to ease my mind, clear my thoughts; I mean that's what beaches are for, right?

But what I experienced was the polar opposite. With so many people shouting and screaming it was like some fucking concert was going on, not a good concert mind you but a concert where all music is messed up and noise is considered to be its ultimate scale. I tried to leave but could not leave my friends alone, that much courtesy I do have(even if narcissism is predominant, as all say).

I eventually left and HOLY SHIT! was I relieved. Below is the beach's photo at its peak visiting time. Now you know what I was talking about.

After that beach debacle, a friend suggested to visit BANDSTAND. For all of those who don't know, Bandstand is like a nirvana for lovers. Couples from all over the city come here to share their 'love', to make lifelong promises and above all to show how uncomfortable PDA(Public display of affection) actually is. I mean that is the last place a single guy would want to go. I completely lost it there, seeing all those couples getting cozy made me disheartened. My spirit died and I became a character from THE WALKING DEAD, a blood sucking zombie looking at the normal people(people with girls, obviously)with eyes that would scare Hitler. I departed from there before mental breakdown could take over. But before leaving I did see SHAH RUKH KHAN's home. Now SRK is this super famous actor of Bollywood. His house is magnificent and it gave me one thing that I needed the most that time, ambition. I revived and came back to the college where I was staying, with a hope that the next day will be different(good different, I mean) and at that moment the explorer inside me had awoken and stood guard all night while I was sleeping to scare away all those disturbing thoughts of the day's travel.

From heaven to heaven!!

                         CHAPTER 2

I have a justified reason this time for not being regular on my blog. Currently I have been reading The lord of the rings,  and I am so engrossed in the epic that nothing interests me more than to read more. Still I have written yet another chapter to take a break from all the excessive reading.

Here it goes....

FROM HEAVEN TO HEAVEN!!!

I am a Delhi fanboy. Being in Delhi all my life has created a faith towards it which is unbreakable. I will never cheat on it with another city; Delhi has captured my heart in a golden cage, a cage that creates a sense of colonisation yet it is attractive and glamorous. I am bonded but the cage seems to satisfy my quench for everything. So going out(or should I say breaking out) was redundant; Till now.

So where was I? I had boarded for Mumbai and was on my way to salvation. The events which took place while on the train are not worth mentioning because its the same old tale with an addition; SUPER BOREDOM!
While in the train your options are limited you can't just wander off to take a pleasant walk to relieve yourself of the boredom or stress unless you are ready to see the faces of the poor souls, some sitting on the train's floor. Going to the loo isn't fun either ( my fellow Indians can relate to that ). However there is one thing that I can mention here.

For passing my time I had a couple of lonely planet magazines along with my voice and a guitar( apparently I sing! ). So  while I was shuffling thorough the articles on travelling to some erotic cities and singing my heart out, I got acquainted with a guy. He was a Mumbaikar ( the folks in Mumbai like to call themselves that ) and was travelling back home from Delhi. We talked a lot( in a completely heterosexual way ), he made additions to my iternaryaand told me about some of the ' hot N cool' places of Bombay. He is a musician himself and a student of arts which are both in favour of labeling the guy as cool( for an engineering graduate like myself the crieterias for coolness are rather queer ).

As a result my journey became less painful and after sixteen hours of torture I finally set foot on an alien soil. I left the train with joy and this the point where the adventure finally began!

But before rushing to check the first item in my itenary I needed some rest. So I rushed to the college's campus where my accommodation was arranged, had some sleep and then took off like a young baby bird who has just learned to fly.

CHAPTER 1(of the travelogue)

CHAPTER 1

The time to unveil the cloak from my reminiscences has arrived. Its not as exciting as the unveiling the new I Phone, but it is sure as hell intriguing.. I went to the city of dreams, the 'mayanagri' of the Indian subcontinent, to BOMBAY(I like to call the city from its old name, it has got a charm in it). I am from Delhi, so from all the great places accessible nearby why did I choose BOMBAY? Was it the glamour that attracted me or was it the people? Was it the idea of meeting a superstar that drived my craze or was  it the never sleeping immortal sea? The answer; Well, none of these!

See, for a student like myself with no source of income whatsoever, travelling is a luxury found often in dreams with a 'spirit'(of any kind) acting as a catalyst. I needed a very strong reason to convince my parents to spend their hard earned dime for my luxurious(as they like to call it) obsession. Fortunately, one of the colleges in BOMBAY was having its annual fest and our college was participating. That was my pass. A College TRIP!!

My parents reluctantly agreed to send me abroad(any distance outside 100km radius from my home is abroad to them!). I cried, cried with joy and my excitement bore no levels. Such was my enthusiasm the previous night that I hardly slept and was busy revisiting the depths of my mind where my ITENARY was carefully stored. Finally, the auspicious day came but it started with an inauspicious note.

The train which I had to board was delayed by five hours. Living in my country for two decades now, I had adapted myself with the condition of our railways(India has the largest railway network; what an irony) but my elation the night before got the better of my awareness and as a result there I was, standing alone on a deserted platform holding my luggage in the same way as a four year hold holds his toys. But time passed; I listened to each and every song on my playlist, read some pages of a novel I was carrying and went thrice to the inquiry counter to 'fry' their heads with the same question over and over again, "Is there any more delay to the train?". The wait was fruitful. My train arrived and I left Delhi with fireworks laden all across my eyes, fireworks of celebration, of uncertainty and most of all ,of hope that this trip will change me if little

A TRAVELOGUE

A TRAVELOGUE

Wow!!

I have lived up to my reputation to be the greatest procrastinator the world has ever seen. I have broken all my holy vows to blogging by not writing on a regular basis. 

This will not do.

 I need a bashing from someone else or at least an outbreak of emotions to bring me back in line(read form). What I need is a series of abusing, of constant reminding that how big an asshole am I. I made a promise to myself in my last post that "This time I will write sincerely" and I have broken that promise. I can't keep promises even to myself. I just realized that, this is reason why relationships never work for me. How can I keep someone's promises when I don't know how to keep mine.

Enough of moaning!!

Lets get back to business.( and I hope this time my business doesn't shut down for a long time; Lets say NEVER)

One if the reasons I skipped writing for such a long time is that I have been traveling a lot and after settling down it's time to acknowledge my travels. I will be writing this travelogue in parts because 'Lets face it', I am a terrible writer.

Let the games begin.......

                                                     

    PROLOGUE

Why doesn't our lives have an incognito mode?

Just like the modern browsers!

Doing what we like, privately,hidden away from the eyes of other people with no record of our history whatsoever. But life is complicated, that is what i have been hearing till now. So i tried to uncomplicate it by going incognito.  For a change i did something for myself, something i really like, something that gives me a sense of satisfaction only a few can give ( So talking about the incognito mode was a natural thought, you know what i mean!)

Coming back to what i did; i travelled. I travelled to an unknown city filled with unknown people to fulfill unknown aspirations. Living in one place all your life induces a sense of bondage( well atleast for me, it does) , life is mundane, it's predictable. Travelling is one of the ways to break free, or should i say "to spice things up".

Coming to the point ( which i seldom do), i took a leave from my "normal happy life" and took a blasphamous route by doing something against normal regulations.

I traveled my heart out.

                                                                             

SHANTARAM

SHANTARAM

Have you ever read a book whose plot, characters and setting took you to another dimension?, whose intricate layout forced you to impersonate the characters, not only the protagonist but all the sidekicks too, live their lives, analyze each situation thinking that you are them?

Shantaram is such a book

Normally if I like  a book enough to talk about it(rather, write about it!) I don't take much time; I collect my thoughts and pen them down, like I have done for some of the books I have reviewed(Let's not get cocky here!! , 'wrote about' is a better and more modest term) in my blog. But Shantaram is different. Initially I was so awestruck by the book that for two to three days I could not get it out of my mind, let alone collect my thoughts to review it. I was blank, didn't know what to write which normally doesn't happen. But this is anything but normal! Normality is overthrown as the Nazis were overthrown. The difference being, the latter overthrown by the teeth shattering cold of the Soviet Union and the formal by abnormality, peculiarity and eccentricity. (all are synonyms I just wanted to give a poetic touch to this mundane text!!). I am using the word 'abnormal' and its synonyms in the most humble way I can, in a positive way, out of immense respect for this book.

Fuck!  my habit to deviate from the topic is irritating me, too!! 

Oh! I was talking about 'SHANTARAM', a novel , a traveler's guide, a life changing mythological text; you can interpret it in any way you want, but it will never loose its central touch, its originality, its uniqueness and above all its morality.

Its a 944 page long masterpiece. Whoa!! that long. But I can guarantee you not for a single moment you will regret reading this.(I got a little bit carried away with the 'guarantee' thing!).

Coming back to the book, the story is about 'Lin' a convicted felon who has escaped from a maximum security prison in Australia and has landed in Bombay , India after spending some time in New Zealand(All those episodes of  'Prison Break' will come gushing in when Lin describes how he managed to escape!). Bombay reshapes him, redefines him and changes him forever. From a criminal he becomes a doctor of sorts helping all those poor souls living in slums. The book describes Lin's journey in a mesmerizing way, from slums to Arthur road prison to Afghanistan; it gets hold of the reader like a spirit. I am making the ultimate analogy of comparing  a reader reading Shantaram to Arjuna in Mahabharata while he was enlightened by Lord Krishna during his teachings of the Bhagwadgita to him. Shantaram has enlightened me as a reader.

I haven't mentioned the author till now! How naive of me?

Thank goodness these articles I write  are not read by some blood thirsty critic, otherwise my blog would have become critically acclaimed for sucking!!!

Gregory David Roberts wrote shantaram taking experiences from his real life. The things happening to Lin in the book are the things experienced by Roberts himself. Think about the level of intimacy the author would have shared with the book while writing it. There have been many good authors who wrote about slums, the way people live there, their daily account, but none of them actually lived there, unlike Roberts. This alone gives us enough reason to try his book for at least once.

Haven't you read enough? Don't you want to get over the bad trip of reading this article? Then stand up go on Flipkart and order Shantaram today(or you can hold on to your thirst till Sunday and buy a second hand version of the book at Daryaganj Book Market at super cheap rates).

PLEASE READ SHANTARAM!!!!!!

#Respect

Gregory David Roberts

#InLoveWith

Shantaram

MY LITERAL FANTASIES

MY LITERAL FANTASIES

I am ardent reader and among other things that give me pleasure, reading sure is in the top three(if not on the top). I should have pursued Literature or something even remotely related to it. But feeling guilty is frankly speaking, not my style! Engineering made me who I am today, a carefree, amicable and somewhat more creative  'Son of a Gun'.

Whoa! I am drifting away fretting on my past reminiscences. Coming back to reading, Where was I? 

Oh yeah, I had not even begun; What a waste!

Fuck it!

Hmm.... reading to me is what chemistry is to chemists, art to artists, communism to communists, blacks to racists and the list goes on and on. Seriously I could not have given a better description of my feelings. So basically I cannot live without it.  For me reading and writing go parallel to each other. I read to write and write to read more; it allows me to open my mind, let thoughts float freely. To sum up my life, I like to travel(as described vividly in my last post), I like to read and write. Hey why shouldn't I become a travel writer? Its easier written then done!

I sometimes have dreams about this 'that I am some big, hotshot( I like to think so :P) writer being applauded by critics for the masterpiece I have just written' and then I wake up with reality gushing through my veins like cocaine through an addict. Wow! another reference:Reading to me is what drugs are to addicts.

Just yesterday I completed 'The lowland' by 'Jhumpa Lahiri' and was completely blown away by her writing. Many authors write novels but a very few of them write the way she writes, diligently weaving her characters into a beautiful story. Midnight's children has been the only one to have that effect on me but not anymore.

See that's what I want to have, someone writing about my work, critically examining it!

Sometimes my fantasies haunt me(I am strictly talking about literature here!), till I repent on what I have done till now. 

              Nothing!! Nothing at all.

Realizing our dreams is difficult especially in a country like ours where we are crushed by stereotypes of our society forcing us to go deeper and deeper down the pit everyday, getting out thus becoming more and more difficult.

But we will break off someday!!

It's reading time again!! ;)

(P.S. If wanna know how strongly I feel about breaking off, go through my first poem in this blog 'AAZADIYAN' )

Have I turned into a Saint of sorts???

Have I turned into a Saint of sorts???

Have you ever wondered how your life would have turned around had you taken some other path? Have you ever given a second(or say third or fourth) thought to all decisions you make? Have you ever paused for a moment to ask yourself -"Is this what I want or what I need?"

This is me pausing for a moment to think, to reflect what I have become and what I should have become. After 21 years of self repenting in the name of education, morals and values I have come to realize that among the cacophony of people and things in your life, bliss lies in solitude. Solitude brings out the real you, the inner self of you, as philosophers say.

It gives you the space, the time needed to discover yourself, to unlock your inner treasures and to pacify yourself.

What has gotten into me? Till yesterday I was a "normal", happy to go person writing poetry, enjoying music and doing what needs to be done. What am I now? What am I yammering about? Turning all philosophical overnight. Had I dreamed of a sage teaching me values and morals, describing me the concept of inner peace? OR had something unknown  planted this idea in me?  

I don't know! I am still the same person who loves to write, to sing , to socialize yet I have changed, adding to the list of paradoxes my own one(Perhaps among the very few not involving time travel!).From my childhood I had loved to travel, to explore places and as I had grown and developed a sense of good and bad, I decided for my self that befriending strange people does not always turn out to be bad.(I thus turned out be an extrovert, making friends easily). This side of me my 'real' side was overshadowed by my 'virtual' side- "a side focused to do what's needs to be done at the time so that I will be lifted higher in this world, giving a true meaning to this life, as parents would say!". This is my 'real' side talking, working very hard to keep the other side dormant at this moment. As a person of this side, unbounded by constraints of achievements, I will still love to travel, to explore, to befriend strangers, even fall in love with someone someday.

I hope my other side is asleep and doesn't wake to find about the treacherous plot my 'real' side is plotting against it, how my 'real' side is trying to overcome my 'virtual' one with ideas of inner peace, love and solitude, because if that happens a war is in order and I know for now which side is the weaker one and will give up first.

So hoping that it doesn't go 'that' way, I am trying to be as quiet as possible while thinking of these ideas so that loudness of my thoughts does not wake my virtual reality and at the same time I am strengthening my 'real' reality so that when war is inevitable it wins.

We all have something to do in our lives, realizing it is the most difficult task. Now after the realization part I find doing it extraordinarily hard. But I will do it; I will travel, explore and also preach whenever necessary.

I will........

DREAMS

Hey ya!!! I am back on time. This is a poem I wrote a couple of weeks ago titled dreams!! (apt from the image itself) Its short but expresses my feelings clearly!! ;)

DREAMS

I was floating in the sky made of water,

and flying on the land made of air..

I was arguing with a lion and singing with a nightingale,

 living in the land of nowhere.....

I was happy, ecstatic even

with all my dreams and aspirations

carefully woven....

But then came a dragon breathing fire 

instead of air,

burnt me down, not leaving a single strand of hair...

I opened my eyes with Ma besides me,

replacing with routine my last night's glee...

Taking my blanket & instructing me to wake

Shouting and screaming - "Don't you have a life to make??"

I smile at first, remorse follows later,

realizing reality unlike dreams is full of craters...

Still waiting for the day to swim on land,

with life lending a helping hand..