Happy Vijayadashmi/ Dussehra/ Dasara

As Arrows pierced
The demon's might
Darkness parted,
Gave way to light

To emulate Lord Rama
Let us decide today
Share in his might
For that inner light, make way

Here's wishing you and your loved ones a very Happy Dussehra

Happy Vijayadashmi/ Dussehra/ Dasara ....

Let us vow to strive today,
To vanquish the demons
Who, over us may hold sway,
And thus emulate
In our own little way,
Lord Rama, on this auspicious day

The New Ensign..

A stiff breeze from the west

Leaves the ensign in unrest?

It flaps and flutters to a contrarian view...

Is it just freedom painting over tradition anew?

Deja vu

An old piece....

An apprehensive knock
On a friendly door
A contrived smile
Breaks on frigid shore

No sign of that which
Brings us to this fateful day
When old friends must meet
As strangers may

The food
It tastes nostalgically hot
Long since I ate here
Long since we fought

Our words carefully
Uncomfortable references mask.
To prevent the pain
Is an arduous task

And so we hide
Our pain and thought
Cloaking them with
Niceties and nought

And exchange things
That we did
While our lives
From the other were hid

The experienced scars
Caution induce
Lest fresh blood purges
The delicate truce.

I think we must allow
The scars to bleed
Catharsize our souls
Nourish friendship’s seed

Till then silently
We'll bleed in compromise
Scared to expose
What our scars disguise

Mid Life Crisis?

Had this intense sense of despair and a inability to comprehend where I'm headed .... Ended up writing this. Unedited words on a phone keyboard... 

It's Diwali night 

The lights have dimmed 

The din of cracker's has petered away 

The smoke hangs heavy in the air 

And others' tired eyes welcome sleep

Instagrams and smiles and wishes

Linkedin posts and whatsapp messages

Remind me to give my life a thought 

What's all this ... 

Niceties or nought?

In a hurry to get nowhere 

Too caught up in the virtual world 

No time to stop and care 

To teach and spend and learn and laugh

 

And soon the years will all be past 

And the hands and eyes 

That seek help today

Will hopefully pause and look my way 

And while dissatisfaction grows inside

It's time to turn the wheels within

To find the time to challenge oneself 

Be it run, work or play instead

 

Give joy and be there for them 

A patient ear, a helping hand, or just time ...

Diwali Greetings

May the Lamps light up your life
And you,
Of those around you
And in this light
May you find
Joy, Satisfaction and Peace of mind

Happy Diwali!!

Happy Army Day

Somehow these lines by Edward B Hamley keep ringing in my ears today...

A moth-eaten rag on a worm-eaten pole
It does not look likely to stir a man's soul,
'Tis the deeds that were done 'neath the moth-eaten rag,
When the pole was a staff, and the rag was a flag.

Creativity

A formal class on ' Creativity'
Is indicative of our proclivity
To not follow our gut
And stick to the rut;
Only repeating what authors had to say,
When  'novelty' was the demand of the day...

Happy Deepavali

Even the smallest  lamps we light today
Spread light and keep the darkness at bay,
The flickering flames and their feeble light
Have a lesson, should we choose to learn it right.

In our own little ways, we may
Emulate the lamps, drive darkness away
Let us then, this Diwali night,
Light up our lamps, let there be light!

Invictus... revisited

Resaw the movie... and the lines keep going around in my head...

Out of the night that covers me
Dark as the pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I neither winced nor cried aloud
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Sikkim Musings

Driving through the mountains is a humbling experience...

Especially if you watch the mountain across the valley.. you zig zag for an hour and the mountain opposite just turns and looks over one of his sprawling spurs and nonchalantly seems to say.. 'Oh there you are.. you're still around!'

Air Power - Lecturing to the Men in Blues

Scepticism hung heavy in the air
When the whites told the blues to dare -
Think what men in air could do
But more so of what they couldn't do!

The points the speaker tried to make
Risked being lost to our own take
Of our important place in the larger scheme
Rather than what we really lacked as a team...

Tis important our limitations to face
Even whilst engaging in a race
For our imperfections are important to
Perfecting better versions of ourselves too...

Mahan vs Corbett

Mahan and a 'decisive battle'
Is it the case of a boiling kettle?
Blowing a lot of hot steam
About something, that to some,

May natural seem!

Of navies and land wars wrote Corbett
Sometimes sneered at Mahan, and yet
Cherry picked his naval wars to get
His students to read 

The 'Green Pamphlet'

That Mahan was inspired by Jomini
Certainly adds to the acrimony
And drives some of us

Out of our wits, to read 

That Corbett also drew  from Clausewitz

To us who have little choice
Since the greats already rolled their dice
Mutely to their ideas 

We must agree, till we can
Contribute with better pedigree!!

Happy Deepavali....

As you light up the lamps today,
We wish you may
In their warm light find
Joy, satisfaction and peace of mind...

Happy diwali to all of you...

On China..

Interestingly put... And good advice too me thinks...?

The art of crisis management is to raise the stakes to where the adversary will not follow, but in a manner that avoids a tit for tat... Henry Kissinger in 'On China'



Another year passeth by ...

Another year passeth by
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Fixed and Rigid
Through waking days...

You hide it
Firm and Resolute
In your ways...

Astral Musings

Another old post from the old blog ... put up here for old time's sake...

Glittering diamonds
Sprinkled liberally
Millions more
Than the eye can see

Spread a blanket
On the dark night sky
Mutely watch us
Mortals spin by

Orion’s belt points to
Sirius bright
And Pleiades clear
On a moonless night

Imagined lines and
Each mortal name -
Nought but feeble
Claims to fame

Human attempts
Labouring to mime
A divine Creator
And unconquerable Time.

Afflictions of
Hominid yearnings
To leave covetous marks
On their surroundings

In a class on Organisational Behaviour ....


Discussing 'Stress'
Demanded creativity
In using English
To hide Perplexity

Stagnation and Stability

An old piece from the old blog that sadly doesn't show up.. reworked a bit to soothe my senses now...

17 - 18 Feb 04

Stagnation and Stability are two of the worst villains that we face; each complementing the other; the latter fostering the former. Ever so easily we fall prey to them and slip into the inviting jaws of Contentment. Devils in sugar-coated sweetness...

Dissatisfaction is what makes the world go round!!

Satisfaction should be like the horizon… distant, where one's aims seem to meet the path one's treading on; a place which one can never reach; yet one which always looks inviting, alluring and prods one to go on. It is the journey that’s important, not the destination; for once one gets there there’s nowhere else to go!

All around we find people escaping this reality, refusing to acknowledge its presence, shutting it out of their lives and succeeding at it…!

Well, if one tries hard enough, I think there’s nothing one cannot achieve, even if it’s the task of drowning out that little voice…

“If you can fill that unforgiving minute,

With sixty seconds worth of distance run,

Yours is the earth my son, And all that’s there in it.”

My two cents ....

Was this where I wanted to be,

Caught amidst satisfaction and mediocrity,

Excellence lost in delusions of comfort,

And growth hindered by visions of stability.

Progress is ‘change’ in a different hue,

It is ‘uncertainty’ that leaves our lives askew.

It is ‘movement’ that sets us apart

From the cold and dead, who have played their part.

Inertia is what we choose to attain,

Losing our existence in the humdrum and drain

In the fight to wake, work and sleep

Why, we even forget to weep.

‘Wake up and run

Don’t give up, it’s not done.’

We drown the cries, shutter the pane,

Comfort and laziness soon dull the pain.

Caterpillars cocooned, safe in their plight,

Butterflies that chose to avoid the light.

Dumb cattle led to the abattoirs of Time,

Silently dying, is ignorance their crime? 

Happy New Year...

Ushering in the new year in a distant land ....

With loud music blaring its way into my brain, its really difficult to find the words to say something that you cant even think about... The music is an anaesthetic, numbing the brain, forcing it to resign its otherwise unceasing efforts to keep the flow of thought flowing, however, ephemeral those thoughts may be... Rhymes are not even round the corner....

So please accept these modest wishes...

I hope that the New Year brings you health, satisfaction and peace of mind. The courage and conviction to set aside beliefs, to take the risk and follow the calling of your heart....

A Happy New Year to Ye All .....

Merry X'mas

25 Dec 11

The dark restless waters

The calm white starlight

And the missing moon tonight

Set a Christmas test

Of sharing

My distant 'silence' 

With ye all..

How Can

An old piece recovered from the old blog .... and a little editing to go with the times..

Over a cup of coffee
How can
We
Decide to spend the entire span
Of our conscious and unconscious lives together
In pleasure and pain
Through fair and foul weather

Making silly small talk
How can
We
Conclude from what today we speak
Tomorrow our words shall liven our lives
Or turn them bleak.

In our actions and gestures
How can
We
Try to normal be
When the act of sitting here itself
Is a deviation from normalcy

Post a lifetime spent together
How can
We
So surely tell
That we'd know each other well
When past half our lives we're ignorant of
All the people we're made up of.

So let’s begin
The compromise
And honestly
Try to surmise
All that we adore
And things that we
Just can't ignore.

Its been ages

Its been ages and the yearning to get back has got the better of me but sadly I find that words don't follow the mind's desires.. maybe they will have to pulled out with tongs, if need be..

Then maybe a gentler approach would be far more acceptable to the tenuous thoughts that seem to shy away from such signs of violence. Maybe some coaxing and cajoling should help, maybe ....

Or maybe the trick is to let them feel they aren't required any more...

'Hah'.. they scorn at me... "Why'd you abandon us so long then.. Do you think you're our master and we answer to your beck and call..."

I distance myself from this pointed criticism.. "It wasn't me.. It was the ideas... They betrayed me.. Its they who betrayed you.. I had no control.."

"Why didn't you use the approaches you now discuss long ago... with them instead of us?? why?"

Sometimes its best to stay silent.. to let the anger vent itself out!!

May There Always Be Sunshine

Russian lyrics here

English translation here

Easy is the path to wisdom for those not blinded by themselves...

--- Old Jedi Saying.

October Revolution (... edited)

The Autumn wind
Redistributes the golden leaves
In his quest for 'socialism'...

Blogspeak

Credit goes to this post for inspiring these lines... In fact this was written in the comment box of that post ....


Another year passeth by
We grow older: you and I

I am wisened
When words are penned

Saddened when
The Muse is spent

My frame - tis what your pen depicts
My mood - tis what your mind predicts

Each day this uncertain subsistence
Is a celebration of your kind indulgence

In your own words, asks 'my dependence'
If you ever empathise with my existence?

Doubts...

Tis a sudden spurt of inspiration
Words, meter and allusion

Don't mistake the smoldering desire
With a lucky breeze
That fanned the fire

Another Version

The wind whips away
The golden leaves
From my bare heart

Autumn Revelations

The wind blows away
The autumn leaves
Laying bare - the cold me

Happy Dussera

Akin to Lord Rama
On that tenth day
May we all conquer
Our own demons today.

Happy Dussera to all of you ...

Spring

The Sun streams past
The winter curtains
Into my heart

Resign to the mundane...

Let us make a pact
I said to my words
Let me find my friends
Before I look for strangers

Let us make a pact
I said to my thoughts
Lets think about the mundane
Before we look for visitors

So here are a few lines
That the rustiness permits
The dull edge of a knife
Yields a jagged verse at best

To write or not to write ?

Happy Diwali

May the lamps light up your life
And you of those around you
And in the light may you find
Joy, satisfaction and peace of mind ..

Happy Diwali

Old is gold?

Today I thought
I'd be narcissus.

Read my own lines
To slake the thirst

To read a decent word or two
That wasn't asking me to

Politely take some urgent action
To expedite some interaction,

Or ask some party to
Fulfill a clause they agreed to..

Even as my feeble words satisfy the drought
I am troubled by this peculiar thought

"Each line I write today
Seems duller than the one I wrote yesterday

Was I better at words earlier?
Or tis Posterity that makes it so appear?"

“Thank you for the words …”

That a troubled mind is the best muse, is something I have come to believe in strongly. When I am troubled and in unrest, words flow unhindered. Ideas struggle to find their way onto paper and the whole experience is so cathartic that it often leaves me feeling calmer and more at peace with myself.

This in itself is a dangerous situation. The flowing words do little to resolve the issues that had unsettled the mind in the first place. They act like anaesthetics – providing temporary relief till the dull ache returns as the anaesthetic wears off; till one realizes that the root cause still remains.

Those few moments of peace, though, help to soothe frayed nerves and allow the failing confidence to claw its way back, to reinstate that lost bit of self esteem and to be honest, to also provide a sense of superiority – that will sound funny I think!! But the gift of words is so often not given to all, and those that may, often secretly steal a moment of pride. Arrogance? Mostly no... I think its just a sense of happiness, that is known only to those who experience it. A sense of fulfillment that can only be experienced and is so difficult to describe, even by those who have a way with words!

So I say a la ABBA ….

“Thank you for the words
The lines I’m writing
Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing
Who can live without it
I ask in all honesty.
What would I be?
Without the words we write
What are we?
So I say,
Thank you for the words….
For giving them to me!”

Mindless Meanders 1

Woods and Caterpillar

Twigs and leaves under his legs crackled as he slowly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sitting in the bush seeking exotic species was never going to be an easy job. He had known that, but he had never thought it would also involve cultivating skills like holding one's breath till one's lungs were about to give up just because there was a pack of wild cats sniffing at the strange scent that lay in the air or going for days on end in the woods without a bath till he himself couldn't bear his own scent or having to deal with more types of insect bites than he could count and perpetually sore feet and scratched hands and legs... All the same with the thorns came the moments of joy....

This one for example... the caterpillar slowly started spinning the silken thread around it, covering itself in a white glistening cocoon of silk, while on the branch above, an erstwhile caterpillar was discovering that the new wings it had could let it fly!!!

Disant lament .... (contd)

Tiny little fingers
All clenched tight
And ten tiny toes
All curled up tonight.
The soft warm flutters
That your breath creates
The soft hair
And the tiny face

I'd do anything
For that toothless smile
That spontaneous chuckle
And those beady eyes ...

The miles are certainly
Hard on me
Sleeping alone
When I should have
Been with thee ….

Distant lament ....

I am sometimes
Scared that
My weary words
May not traverse
The long silences
That this distance
Adds, and
The weariness that
Spans time zones
Only aggravates this
Pain, and
Reminds me of
The fact that we
Both know so
Well. And
Tis time alone
That will
Turn its wheel
And turn this
Sordid vacuity
Into a warm
Welcome propinquity...

Another year passeth by ..

Another year passeth by ...
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Slower movements
On unsure legs

You hide it
An elegant walk
Measured pace!

---

Last year's lines..

Another year passeth by,
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Grave looks
And taciturn ways

You hide it
A pensive front
Cloaking vacuous days.

---

This started it....

Another year passeth by,
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Stray wrinkles
And wisps of grey

You hide it.
Maturity
On ponderous display...

---

To clear the air...

The Me is me
The You is too
Two sides of a coin
Or just a different view ...

The fountain dries out .... ??

Why is it
When words beckon
Time decides to fly

Why is it
When time lingers
Words abruptly turn shy

Happy Diwali

Like the crackers and lamps
That burn tonight
May you also light up the lives
Of those around you ...


Happy Diwali!

Welcome ....

Last few days have been an overwhelming experience.... Too overwhelming I think for my words to be able to capture them (at least for now). Maybe a few days down the line I will give it a try...

In the meanwhile, please welcome our new alien...

Hiatus

Busy days, unfinished work
No time and Impending news
Demand a hiatus

Adieu...

Mindless Meandering .......

There was just this vague urge to write. The words were not there, not even an idea, just the plain urge and I thought , lets write. Let’s let the hands for once be wilful obedient slaves to the wishes of the mind. Let them not like always cast aspersions, hesitate and ‘backspace’ their way through.

And so these words come to you… with a simple request… let for once your eyes read them. Not each one of them separately, but all together. Let the sum of their parts find the way to your heart without letting the ‘mindful’ watchdogs interpret , translate, transpose and find meanings even for spaces between the words (much like we often do with the silences, when we talk!)

Let these mindless meandering words paint a picture unique . One where each word silently adds a stroke to the canvas . One where you can only see the canvas once all my words are exhausted. For once let my only words talk to you, not their meanings or not even their mindless meanderings..

-----------------------------------------


And then I thought, this would sound great as a blank verse....

There was just this vague urge to write.
Absent were words,
Leave alone ideas,
Just the plain urge and I thought,
Let’s write.

Let’s let the hands for once
Be wilful obedient slaves to the wishes of the mind.
Let them not, like always, cast aspersions,
Hesitate and ‘backspace’ their way through.

And so these words come to you
With a simple request
Let for once your eyes read them
Letting them find
The way to your heart
Without letting the ‘mindful’ watchdogs
Interpret, translate, transpose
Without letting them find meanings
Even for the spaces between words
(Just like we do, so often,
with the silences, when we talk!)

Let these mindless meandering words
Paint a picture unique .
One where each word
silently adds a stroke to the canvas .
One where you can only see the canvas
Once all my words are exhausted.
For once let only my words talk to you,
Not their meanings
Not even these mindless meanderings.....

Distances

Unfinished and an ill-executed idea.... all the same....

Distant conversations on telephone calls
Emotions bridged by Yahoo Emoticons
How can few minutes of connectivity
Help bridge the absence of propinquity

When I want to mask the pain writ large on my face
The distant conversation is often a matter of solace
When deep hidden pain I however must show
The distance hides my face, not my silence though …

Implied ..

From a comment I left on Gulnaz's blog

Sometimes we assign more subtelties
To words than they can carry
And heartfelt emotions
Are drowned in the flood
Of implied implicitness

Thank you

An uninispired blogger –
Words have eluded me
For many a day
And inspiring thoughts
Refuse to stay

They flash past
With little remorse
And memory fails
When I try it to coerce

These words thus owe
Their frail existence to
Many a word written by
Inspired bloggers like you

Thank you for the words ....

In flight (contd)....

Clouds, roads and myriad greens
A family, career, wants and dreams
A Jigsaw puzzle – In flight!

Packing

Leaving a home for a new one is a heart breaking experience. The vibes/implicit suggestions of an impending movement begin quite early. In fact, contrary to what follows they are actually quite exciting – which place, what sort of work awaits, is it better if I was transferred to some other place instead of this one , what about accommodation and most importantly – maids to do the housework!! The questions are endless and many a waking hour is spent answering them, thinking, speculating and even gossiping to some extent. It then becomes time to start packing and procrastinating. Somehow I guess both go hand in hand, eventually getting to the stage where tension begins to build and the realisation that there may not be enough time at hand looms large. And so we begin...

The first to go are the knick knacks lying easily at hand. Each wrapped in crushed newspapers or old clothes or other things like bubble wrap. The newspapers have their own story to tell; saved out in a corner over the last few months, waiting, waiting and waiting. For what? Waiting to be crushed and stuffed into cardboard boxes – funny one might be tempted to say, but so it is with a lot of other things around us...

The next to go are the curtains and the guest linen, towels et al ... Wash, dry, fold and store or maybe seal first in plastic bags to keep away the dust and store thereafter. The next in line are the extra sheets followed by the curtains. Its when the hanging curtains begin to come down that the first waves of nostalgia begin to creep up. Silently they lie behind innocuous cupboard doors and small scraps of paper... awaiting atop a familiar shelf or in a dusty corner and even a quick look or a passing glance is enough to awaken them.... sights, sounds and images flood into mind's eye often causing a tear to well up and blur vision. Then one stops and wonders at the futility of it all... before pragmatism invades the private counsel and one realises its time to move on again.

Were it not an inanimate object wouldn't we owe our house immense gratitude? We are truly indebted to it for life – to have provided shelter in times good and bad, in times when were right or wrong, in times of happiness and in times of sorrow; and all that without even uttering a single word or rendering unwanted advice or even expressing an opinion about our actions, however wrong they might be. Its a service few living people would render and certainly a debt that most of us would find difficult to repay... and if repay one must then how does one repay one's debt to a home?

In my opinion, just like one would repay one's debt to a sentient being... by doing it some good.... by leaving it in a state better than it was when one moved in and also by being conscious of the debt... the consciousness itself dictates a lot of our actions... ensuring that we return a bit of the 'social obligation' .

In flight ....

From nagging bosses and unending work
To fluffy clouds and blue skies
In flight!

---

Pull down the window shade
Shut out the light
'Tis best to catch some sleep
Whilst still
In flight!

Paternal Haiku

Immersed in my world
Travel n work ...
And my unborn one in his

Alien ahgain ... ?? ah...

Life has this funny way
Of getting back..
When you think
You had it figured out...
You realise you couldnt
Have even imagined
What it
Holds in store

Storms at Sea

Storms at sea are a humbling experience...

Frail lives in a tin can
The might of nature
Barely withstand
And realisation
Dawns on sensitive few
Through the fog of fear
Our insignificance shines through...

Master of Technology

Phew...
So I am done
Jack of all
Master of one?

gcc

Oh I see
its the gcc

It needs one older
Else its a goner

4.1's too new
and 3.4 wont do

32 works like a charm
but where's the rpm? Darn..

So its time FC4 to reload
FC6 wont take the load .....

;-)

Awake alone...

As I watch
Your breath rise and fall

I despair
At the futility, et al

Of trying
Rhyming lines to write

When all I want
Is to sleep, tonight!

Beside Me

The stuffed toys
Are lined up
Beside Me

The warm blankets
Are tossed away
Beside Me

The fluffy pillows
Are stacked up
Beside Me

The half-read books
Are piled up
Beside Me

And all I wish for:
That you were there
Curled up
Beside Me

Another Year Passeth By ...

I was trying to add onto the lines for last year ...

Another year passeth by,
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Grave looks
And taciturn ways

You hide it
A pensive front
Cloaking vacuous days.

---

Wrote this last year...

Another year passeth by,
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Stray wrinkles
And wisps of grey

You hide it.
Maturity
On ponderous display...

---

To clear the air...

The Me is me
The You is too
Two sides of a coin
Or just a different view ...

Morbid Post!!

Sorry for the morbid thoughts..

I'm not trying to prove a point
At least not to you
One doesn't risk ones head on a rock
When the rock is sure to hurt you

No time ...

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
-- WH Davies

Here's more on WH Davies and here you can read the complete pome...

A quick tale: One ring to fool them all ..

'One ring to fool them all...', she thought, as her fingers slipped over the smooth cold metal and a smile escaped the controlled mask she wore. Resolutely, she suppressed the smile, though conceding grudgingly that it had been a brilliant stroke of genius; just like the book that had inspired it. She had not wanted to let go of her life so easily, "Or maybe I am addicted to procrastination!", she thought.

With half an hour to spare, the finished book lying beside her, she had made the decision. mumbling an incomprehensible excuse to her bewildered room-mate, she rushed out of the room to the Cartier store that lay on the way....

"The ring was beautiful", she acknowledged to herself. It was white and radiant, slender and strong. The strength came from platinum and the radiance from the small diamond that was set in the centre, flush with the metal. One look at it and she had known that it was what she had thought of. It was just the kind of ring she would have wanted him to give, when she was ready.

But the number of people, who were poised to take control of her life, had suddenly seemed too large to her; too large for her to handle each one separately. Of course, they all loved and adored her. She did too and it was this that made matters worse. "Had I not got here I would have probably been already living a decision... Would it have been mine?"... Or would it have been an implicit one thrust upon her by the culture and the unwritten code that she had grown up in and also, at some sub conscious level, grown to like ... She was not sure.

Her fingers brushed the ring again and she realised that it was easier this way... She pictured the questioning look she would get from Pappaji, her grandfather; the sweetest 70-year old she knew. She cringed subconsciously at the tirade of questions that her brave single mother would direct at her, at the first opportunity she got... "Maybe she would see through it...". She silently hoped she would. It amused her, to her surprise, when she imagined the angry look that would escape Arun's controlled countenance. "We are so alike".. but thats what made it insipid and unimaginable! And she silently thought about and pitied the trace of melancholy Arijit would quietly betray, totally unnoticed by others...

".. your attention please. All passengers travelling by flight AI 714 from Los Angeles to Mumbai are requested to proceed to Gate 3A for boarding...". The announcement broke her chain of thoughts... She lifted her hand and turned the ring around on her finger. She peered at the reflections the foyer lighting threw off the intricate cuts of the diamond and for a passing moment an inner voice debated with her about her decision, before it was drowned by a louder one that marveled at the beauty of the diamond. "A thorn for a thorn...!", she pondered and she smiled at the irony of it. Turning the diamond inwards, she clenched her hand. She shut out the doubtful voices in her head with a shrug of her shoulders and gave her bag a tug. It was going to be a long and imaginative flight ...

One ring to fool them all ...

@AirJaldi

I'm sitting at this new auditorium in the Tibetan Children Village, McLeodganj, attending the Air Jaldi summit. And the most important thought that I think I am going to take back from here is:

It is not important to just push technology into rural areas. The most important thing is the final application and the model to make the deployment of the technology economically viable. If we do not have a model for that, once the brain behind the project disappears, the project and the technology dies. The blame then, I believe, is fixed on technology!! What a shame that is... The failure of human foresight blamed on the laws of science!!!

I do believe in the bottom-up approach that a lot of people here are advocating.. However, the research community often uses the bottom approach to come up with novel observations for research papers and in the process the finished application just gets forgotten... And more often than not, one success story covers up for hundreds that were not done right (of course I exclude those that didnt work right.. beacuse if everything worked, it wouldn't be called research, right??? )

Happy Diwali..

As night descends
On waning day
The little lamps burn,
Keep darkness at bay

So let us decide
This diwali night
To emulate the lamps..
"Let there be light..!"

Here's an earlier one...

Let the lamps light
Up your life
And you
Of those around you

And in that light
May you find
Joy and Prosperity
Of every kind..

Shubh Deepawali...!!

Happy Dussera

As we burn Ravana tonight
May the consuming flames
Give us the light
To find and burn
The Ravanas, we carry
Hidden deep inside

Happy Dussera ...!!

Sleep Away

An off-the-cuff, blank verse.. pardon me if it breaks all norms..

Wrapped in a sheet
Your hair flutters
In your gentle breath.
A foot away
I wrestle with 'System design'
And the temptation
Of joining you!!

Death of a Maestro

"The world comes to die here. It would be a pity if I died somewhere else.." And so, today the sun will set on a Benares void of one of its greatest sons.

I am not a great proponent of Indian classical music, nor do i claim to understand it's nuances. Ustaad Bismillah Khan, however, has always been synonomous with the 'shehnai' ever since I remember.

As a tribute to the maestro, NDTV replayed an episode of the series "Walk the Talk" featuring him. What brought tears to my eyes, was not the news of the death, but the humble simplicity of the man. Clad in a 'ganji' and 'dhoti' seated on a charpai, a 90-year old man in the span of half an hour showed me 'how to live'.

The man who swayed millions to the enchanting sound of the shehnai, who elevated the 'shehnai' from an accompanying instrument to a solo instrument in its own right, felt that all was not lost for this country.

His frank and honest words he showed how greatness and simplicity can coexist, how attitude is not necessary to prove superiority; it showed me how I wanted to lead my life!!!

Words

Its still me
But its not
How can that be
Maybe I've changed a lot!!

I have been yearning to write for a long time and I have kept postponing it every now and then and suddenly it seems to me as if I never wrote at all. Nostalgia grips me as I leaf through my old lines and I wonder how I had managed to write them all. Silently a yearning takes hold of me, but the frustrating combination of lack of time and inspiration that have killed the Michaelangelo in many a soul, dulls the sharp edges of want and I give up. "Maybe another time", "Maybe another place" ... more often its never... The feelings and emotions that have been jostling to make themselves heard sink back into the morasses of rigmarole and routine.

So you might wonder if this is an effort to break the shackles... an amateurish effort to rise against the professional prowess of "Paucity of Time". It is, but it would be wrong to miss the duality.

The pen is an anasthetic, it hides behind the facade of ink, the wounds; that are their Muse and the kind words of agreement and praise are the balm that unknowingly soothes the hidden wounds. Contorted ways of drawing solace, but I think thats the way the mind often works.

The written Word is also cathartic... it cleanses the mind of baggage that becomes too heavy to bear. It plays on the oft repeated psychological phenomena that sharing pain helps to reduce it. I have still not realised how it works. Maybe there is solace in shared knowledge.

Thats a good start i think. But...

The woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep...

Slip...

An old piece...07 Jun 05

Muted words
On a cell phone screen
Mark moments
Unheard, Unseen

A careless moment
Is to blame
For disregard
And a reaction lame

'Tis true that
Apologies can't
Wrest back time
However much we want.

Facade

जब जिस वक्त किसीका हाल बुरा होता है
कुछ ना पूछो यारों दिल का हाल बुरा होता है
दिल पे यादों के जैसे तीर चलते हैं ...

I had thought
"I" could make it work
I know
I was wrong
"We" could have...

Now only the facade remains...

What are words...

What are words
Reusable emotions...

Flawed efforts to grasp
In tangibles
Intricate intangibles

Efforts to shackle
In meter and rhyme
Amorphous thoughts
That can never
Fit on a line...

If our love, was
Bound by words
It wouldnt last so long

Words are forgotten
Words wither
But our love
Just seems to go on..

Musings

What we have is special
My words
Try to say so
And in the bargain
Accept,
Their complete
Inadequacy to do so...

Another year passeth by ...

Another year passeth by,
We grow older
You and I

I betray it
Stray wrinkles
And wisps of grey

You hide it
Maturity
On ponderous display...

----------------

The Me is me
The You is too
Two sides of a coin
Or just a different view..

the joy of learning...

Among the multitude of questions
That tested our ignorance
Were few that sneered
And scorned at our existence

There were few
Who stood by, smiling
Cloaked in their guile
Silently misleading

And then a band
Of those elite few
That led us seductively
To explore our imagination
And stretch the envelope

Of knowledge and perception.
Helping us unveil
Through reason and application
Joyous paths
Drawing out that ephemeral realisation
"Ah.. that's how the damn thing works..."

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Well, today I took a trip down memory lane...

So to say I didnt really wander down trails that have grown misty, while lying lost in my mind, but I decided to visit a different set of memories... those of others. Those that lay trapped on pages such as these in the bits and bytes of the cyber world... I followed the links on my own blog page... links to people and thoughts that I liked, loved, found interesting or intriguing... and I often ended up in blind alleys.. found that the memories I was trying to refresh had disappeared....

Will that be the fate of these lines as well?... who knows...

Picture Perfect




Beady, innocent eyes
That seemingly
Know no lies.

A stray errant tress
That falls
From the mess

Of a tousled mop
And a face
That makes me stop.

Stare and tacitly long
For seclusion
In this throng.

Just ‘Musings’ all
Evoked by
A face on the wall....