kasmir & miss roy

I am not an accomplished writer. Neither have I the authority to condemn one. But what I am is an Indian who knows how dear the nation is to me. The people who talk about ‘azadi’ can they please define what kind of freedom they dream. Is it just from the oppression of the militia and state or is it in fact from their poverty. What our renowned authors forget is that while it is gruesome to pull out nails and blind young stone pelters , how good an idea will it be to leave the state of affairs in the hands of people who are powerful and have ‘freedom fighters’ at their beck and call to kill and not regret. If one completely agrees that all that the Indian state’s purpose is to retain power and have Kashmir in its rule no matter the price and silence every sovereign voice then what is it doing giving reservations and investing as much in Kashmir as it does for the rest of India. If the people were to once give a chance would not the heaven on Earth get a place in our prized land like every other. Why would we behave in foster way with a nation that is as much concerned with other Islamic majority state like Uttar Pradesh. I beg to the most acknowledged literature laureates not show there prowess to stir up a discussion which involves enemy state’s involvement and purpose. If you could show us the light and tell us with all logic what shall be the next step once the Indian militia pulls out even considering to overlook constitutional proposition of an integrated state as united we stand and well divided, individuals reign.

The psyche of a happy person

Largely relative and deeply feeble,

mundane and oblong,bereft of wisdom.

Fickle minded momentary madness,

chanced upon by accidental stumbling on likeness,

the mindset of a madman only reflected upon the mirror of life.

Strangely affected by dimensions,

liable to change with perspective,

Stuck in a framework of the imprisoned observant,

A Shackle of the soul making it long for more,

Creating a coward in fear of losing it.

The traits of a fairly dangerous addiction only lawful!

Happy could not have been more misused,

Than what it was orignally meant to be ,

Just an opposite of sadness.

Feeling of the pseudo fortunate,

the greatest veil to the realization of self.

A cycle set upon an unrelenting circular path ,

than be aware of the nullpoint centre ...

as it keeps us moving at least ... :)

SOUL WRENCHED

Justice is my religion,
Righteousness, the pages of an open book
in which I write my poetry on honour.

Faith is my dignity,
Truth the maiden of my dreams
for the love of which I can face this world.

The opressor is my opponent,
Darkness the name of the eagle
which accompanies me in my silent quest.

I fear not even the One,
For what I have is not worth taking
what I strive for,can not be taken.

Bravey the road on which I walk,
If i meet u ,I shall greet you with grimness
Fear not because this means wou have lived after meeting me!

I am the conscience of the bereaved
Burning in the fire of revenge
Tyranny will to burn to ashes in my places of worship.

I am what you could have been ,
had you the will to love and hate in equal unbounded measures
Forgive me, for I am an assasin.

Let me embrace the world like a shadow
Let this sun set this way
To dawn tomorrow a new light .
I rest now knowing that i will start living after my death..to wake up in the new world shaped by my actions.

summer break

Its a respite from the sweltring heat of Pilani,its an unending chain of contacting and waiting for ur old pals to reply and most of all a gr8 tym to catch up wid ur "oder" life.the break is so long that it puts me in a fix to plan it .After a period I start feeling how can I study so much and yet be utterly useless. nyways for a change this time promises a chang from the usual routine.I am going to the much talked about PS 1 (-an internship like thingie)I hope I enjoy it and it keeps me busy enough to stop me from wondering how am i going to spend the next hour.

Maa

My lovely grand-mother left for her heavenly abode in summer of 2008.
I used to call her Maa.
Have you ever felt a deep sense of loss and abyss .its a whirpool of pain and sorrow this post would describe how I remeber her as and what a sense of longing she left in me.

Subtle as the wind and commanding as the sun she stood amongst my family loved and revered by one and all.Her demanour was saintly ,her actions caring, her wisdom uncompared,her presence undeniable,her mirth exemplary ,her love unpreceded,her nature forgiving,her understanding deep,her work rewarding,her leadership unforgettable,her life ideal and her simplicity heartening.With her departure I felt lost and bereft of wisdom . God had not been kind to me taking her away like this .She used to write notes for me to refer to later so that we could benefit from ramdevji's medicines ,we went to many a long train journey together debating about life and death.Although i never took the medicines she still used to write them hoping someone or the other may take them .She never sat idle always doing something as her health allowed .She was a mentor to my father and uncles.Our family had an abyss with her untimely departure.
As I remember her now I remember not much but glimses and moments spent with her playing chopad with her and vinod dadaji. How we loved to gather in one room and just listen her preside an informal family gathering.The way she handeled all the misunderstandings and managed the household without ever scorning can not be compared.Her caring hand always looked after me as i got back from school hungry as a drum,mom often used to be out ,she came slowly and made chapatis for me.
Never complaining even though she had to work despite her health mom used to leave having one surity that definitely maa will be there to look after us.At night she used to sit in a chowki serving every member food and taking care if anyone needed a refill.touji used to come fuming from work,papa came tired dipu chachaji headbanged all came and sat beside her in the TV room and chatted with her telling her there problems.Dadaji used to always take maa out for morning walks and the little bit of fight they had in the car was hillarius and lovable.
Had there been a perfect human being i know she would be the one .I loved and respected her the most and pray to dear god to take care of this lovely soul.

My wing

The morning heralds its arrival by the first ray of bleak sunlight crossing our threshholds.The gaping stripes in our door thriftily allows the sunlight to creep in our packed rooms driving away night's spell.With drowsy eyes and drooping shoulders we ever so slowly try to shut the blaring alarms.Dragging our feet to the bogs with utmost effort with toothpaste in one hand and brushes in other we see our countenance with half open eyes on the sporadically white painted silver surface . Staightening our hair we try to analyze the first time where we stand and become conscius of our actions.There is a fray down on the road as we strain our heads to glimse the tussle of cycles ferrying their riders to the institute with utmost haste.They seem to be out of place when compared to the serene surrounding.To most of us they appear as frayed ants following their acts trying to make there lives better by making our's worse.. But do we care? thats the perennial question, I guess not.Then we turn to our neighbours only to find the same nonchalance as we had seen earlier on the mirror.The taps run after a few hisses as if reluctant to provide us gory beasts a chance to pry out the grime accumulated after days of ablutophobia. We hyppocritically curse the water not being hot but in truth being glad to have another day san-bath .
Later we throw up on ourselves the weight of dusty old notebooks harbouring silver worms for not being opened for days.After an unsteady and unwilling walk to the conglomerate of flattened buildings we call the faculty division, the lecturer sternly stares at us as we shabbily enter the class as if it was a favour we bestowed on him by our duly presence.On listening to him for another five mins we unanimously decide that strainig our dear ears is not worth it . Maybe bacause of the non relevance of the topic or the genious with which the teacher could extract all possible fun from the topic and provide us the bare shrivelled notes necessary for passing the ensuing test.Test being the soul reason for us to betray our beloved sleep.The lunch is what most of us start our day on.The mess stands in between the two bhavans just behind the warden's house.As we slowly move on to the clamour of the crowd within, we wonder what if we were able to make our caring warden eat the delicious cuisine.Therein lies our bread served by workers whom I guess share the same apathy as ours for bath.Huddling around the wing sits for the dinner like a family.Like every other family this too starts bickering and teasing, some enjoy others find reason for their apparent fate.Here it is that the likes of shaki come into there elements and start settling off their hapless day by bickering and laughing in confirmation of his own mirth trying to belittle every person he can find.But like in a family we accept him for that and even bear jokes on us.In the end he is just another member finally trying to win approval of others by pranking on others.Still he comes out to help even if anyone of us slightly needs it.
We come back to the bhavans to sleep and confer god's blessing of idleness upon us.
"Rest i shall write later, have u any ideas then please comment.."-R>I>P-wingies
It has been no surprise to me that there were no comments on the post thereby reconfirming on the uber laziness our wing has hitherto been loyal to.I would like to keep it short and not be grandiloquent so as not to trouble u guys more on reading such manuscripts...
Afternoon classes are never popular amongst us.It's just so oddly timed! When its a question of sleep and class ,I think the decision is already made. Evening witnesses a stark contrast of activities as we stop moving as if we move in a bulk i dont know much about the others but few good souls like shukla,katyal and me go to nirmaan ..shaki also comes sometimes but his reasons are different one could guess if he was to believe his desktop pic.Gulhati does not bother to go out of his room in evenings as he is busy searching for a sword in world of warcraft which he would not even pick if he had to by his own hands but this is y he plays virtual games exercising only his fingers,i say fingers because WOW doesnt require brains.Jot vents outs his frustration playing cs .chikki seeems to be watching something or other if not ghotting.Mathur becomes synonymous to a door of 206 which is CLOSED in evenings wearing a foreboding look.We dont bother to disturb him .He may be the only sane person in wing to others but to us he is totally insane -studying in college ..bah!what a waste :).anuj akka yo may go to reddy sometimes.AVG I dont want to know what he does..RA is a lock on a door 209 he is never there at his room in evenings.This compulsive socialite obliterates the meaning of evening studies as he pulls off a magnificent act of balancing his phone calls from delhi and CEL.Rahul too goes to nirmaan And I swear to GOD I dont know what abhinav does.