Sky

As I sat on the Terrace Last Evening I saw something

The Sky Opened Her Wardrobe For Me
She Let Me through to See What She had
The Wardrobe Had Only One Dress
The One Which Was Blue
Dissapointed I closed My Eyes
But When I Opened My Eyes
The Colour Changed
It WAS Orange,Red And So Many Other Colours
Colours Which You Can See and Feel
But Are Too Beautiful To Be Written About

my first story

The cold winter breeze struck his face with fury through the windows of the s6 compartment.the day marked 12 years since he lived through the death of four people who meant more to him than anybody else.he had moved on or so he thought.in denial,in sorrows,in tears,in retribution,in self depreciation he felt them.he had moved on or so he thought.in semi sleep he went back .

* * * * * *

December 6 1992 and the days that followed changed the lives of millions of people forever.krishnakant upadhyay was one of them.doing his final year of undergraduation and looking forward to a bright future he never anticipated what was to happen.

At around 8 pm on december 8 krishna and his roomamte salil chowdary were getting ready to go to the mess and have their dinner.both had earlier in the day taken part in a protest meeting and prayer for communal harmony in their college and had been unequivocal in their condemnation of the 'demolition' and the riots that followed.as they were going to the mess the pune informed krishna about the fateful phonecall from his hometown.an inspector talked to him and verified his parents' identity and then delivered the news.his parents had been attacked and killed in the riots.the police were organising the funeral since private funerals were close to impossible in such an situation.

As soon as the line was cut Krishna went numb.his had been a normal life filled with simple largely predictable and happy events .his mind was just refusing to react.When the mess workers served him his favourite food for dinner,he heard it

“Beta kitne patla ho gaye ho.Toda aur lelo naa” followed by a more masculine

“Lelo naa.jab teri maa kuch kehti hai to maan na padtha hai”

And he broke down.He wept without any inhibition in the open mess hall like a child whose chord with the mother had just been cut off.Sorrow is infectious it spreads faster than light.And that day Salil joined Krishna in his grief.

As they came back to their room Krishna, still deep in his sorrow ,took stock of the situation. He had to go to his town.but the riots had paralysed the entire country.the buses were not running and the next train was only in the morning.If he could just cross this one night he could reach his place and see his beloved ma and pa 's mortal remains,just once but

will the police wait till he reaches his town. he remebered that the police had mentioned the word funeral in his conversation.this bought to his mind the shocking images of his ma and pa's corpses lined in a large heap with others and being pulled up by the municipality workers for the mass funeral .this added even more pain to his volatile mind.

His hostel was in a predominantly hindu locality which meant the muslim occupants had left.but Salil wouldnt budge even when others called him.He thought that it was his duty to be with his only friend Krishna at this hour. Krishna did not know what to say.He only wished Salim got away to be safe ,away from the mobs .......... and Krishna.

***********************************

There was commotion outside the room around midnight.Salil immediately hid all his belongings and removed his locket and kept it inside his pocket.hoping against hope that he may not be identified.little did he know that his nemesis was not far away.

The commotion was followed first by knock and then a violent bang on their door.four men with saffron bands on their head forced their way into the room.As soon as they saw Krishna's sacred thread hanging loose below his shirt their robust manner softened into one of respectful indulgence.The leader of the mob asked Krishna “panditji kya woh hamare saat hai?”

* * * * *

Was it Salil?Was he alive?He seemed to be talking , folding his hands and begging to every passenger on the train.He smiled at Krishna and started walking towards him.Krishna ran towards the toilet.He shut himself and cried in true repentance.Could he have saved Salil?

* * * * *

“Panditji kya who hamare saat hai?”

At that moment Krishna felt the death of two men almost at the same time.Victims of violence perpetrated by extraneous factors and from within.The greatest success of the fundamentalists is not in the malicious killing of innocents who are always the prime victims of aggression but they kill rational minds,they polarize the educated ,uncivilize the civilized.On that cold december night Krisnakant Upadhyay allowed his mind to die and killed his friend just by a nod of his head.And Salil smiled at him.This smile was to torment Krishna more than his parents' death.This smile ,after which everything blacked out on that day (and for many more days to come),said “if u can avenge for your loss in this way SO BE IT”

* * * * *

He washed his face and came out of the toilet.An old,blind muslim beggar was crossing him.Krishna stopped him and gave him a hundred rupee note which brought a smile on the old beggar's face.the same smile.Salil was back ........

Gandhi Who?

.... Arjun tilted his glass gently pressing it on his smoke tarned lips to let the last drop of the rum to reach his tongue, flow thru his throat and finally reach his battle hardened liver.alcohol had long stopped numbing him.Infact it inverse numbed him.He remembered things he longed to forget or had already forgotten like his first date,his first dissapointment,his first encounter with sex.so many firsts that made him hate the coveted single number.But he could not control thoughts that too with 8 patiala pegs of Old Monk already inside.

*****...................................................................****
Did Sundar Appa drink or not?little arjun's mind was repeatedly hit by this question.vignesh had sworn on his choicest of gods to the fact that he had seen his pop , arjun's and others drink whisky at their house.arjun had confronted his father on the issue but appa denied it and said that he had taken Thums Up and not whisky.arjun was convinced that vignesh was a little pest trying to ruin his 'hero' fathers image.He took on vignesh backed by appa's confession but vignesh did not move an inch on his stand.This created greater doubts in little boy's mind and finally he decided to seek the fountainhead of all known truths(atleast with respect to him) 'amma'.
amma never lied.vignesh knew that for a fact.when he asked her she initially avoided the issue.finally the truth had to be out.amma being amma tried to comfort arjun by telling him that hsi pop was'nt a drunkard like the ones he saw in the old tamizh movies but was a 'social' drinker.she said that he drank to give company to big guests and that too once in a while.but she also told him like all the bill boards on the road that drinking was a really bad habit and not to indulge in such things at any point in his life.but his questions were not over.day after day he frequently pestered his mom regarding the virtues she had taught him and how father appa was not falling in line.she was at one point convinced that the little lad would start to hate his father.so she had to tell him that drinking once in a while wasnt that bad after all.that was it.that made him so happy.she had restored his hero.strange are the minds of young ones,it takes a word to manipulate them.but this was just a starter of other things that would change his life for ever.for starter he argued with his history teacher on the merits of gandhiji's strong opposition to alcohol.this shocked the teacher since she did not expect a fourth grade kid to challenge her views leave alone gandhi's.most kids were taught to worship gandhi.worship they did.the teacher sent for his mother and she updated her on arjun's strange behaviour.it was decided at home that appa would talk to arjun.appa told him eferything and also convinced arjun that drinking was a bad habit and he had quit long ago.convinced ....... hahaha
..............................................................................
"Bearer unnoru peg old monk fashhht" arjun stuttered at the bar table.he smiled.A smile filled with guilt..........

......................................................................................

Little Sundar stood at the gate waiting for his father.this had become a ritual everyday.He would stand by the door.Amma would be asleep or crying.she never spoke much.But he knew why.Appa in the night was hard to handle.Amma said he went outside at the night and nobody was safe in the night outside.Appa must be very tired,the night was at fault not his beloved Appa.........

aruna runam

tiruvannamalai(tvm in short) is a small town about 175 km form chennai.its a temple town with a temple dedicated to shiva in the agni form(u can literally feel the heat as it is unusually hot inside the garba griha)
the temple dates back to vijayanagara period and is quite huge.
but the other main belief in tvm is that the hillock (at whose foothill the temple stands) is lord siva himself.so the 17 km path around the hill is like a pradakshina path.people call this practice of circambulating the hill as girivalam.
that brings me into the blog.yesterday i went to tvm with girivalam in mind.we started about 2 pm form chennai and reached tvm by 5 pm.we had darshan of the main deity and proceeded towards ramanashramam.

ramana (originally venkatramani) was one of the most respected(and is) self enlightened sages of south india.he came to tvm at the age of 13 leaving behing his family in madurai.

me myself

the day he saw this monster
was the one he was on leave
lying on his bed
thought he could dream
but sleep came to those with some room
so clogged was his head
that there was nothing that was'nt heard
could it be so unfortunate
for he broke off to sleep
but he would'nt let him be
the name of the monster
do all monster's have a name
he asked
no he thought
but u must have one for u have been
here all day and i must name u
to blame you
u want to blame me?
nay.u may never sleep
u need somebody to blame
to earn a proper rest
u search for the scape
and lose the nap
call me whatever you want
but u seem too busy to sleep
dont break off to sleep
for u are the one who knew no rest
u sleep but u want to name me
so u lose sleep
sleep for once with ur mind
inside ur dream not watching it
be a part of it soon
if u dont
u would start a search
once again
from the scratch.

the little one

the little one has no sense
why would he be so happy
when others around him continue to suffer
doesn't he know that he will be them once
doesn't he know whence
he will suffer like others

he plays on his mother's lap
believes today's the first and last day
for he knows no tommorow
he lives by the day
sleeps by the night
he sleeps not because his world retired
but because he's dead tired
he lives by the day and
sleeps by the night

dont know why iam doing this

i have lots of work to do or so do i think.if one has work one tries to shy away from it as much as possible.one plans,plans and plans and plans.but never do things work out.one's frustrated.
but certain things relieve frustration like today's walk in a rare chennai shower.raindrops are like kisses they come in all types.today's shower was sublime.the kind of kiss that affects u least physically but creates a deep feeling of happiness inside.
walking in the rain is the best of things to do if u stop looking down at the slush but keep looking at the sky asking for more and thanking her for the present.
hope ppl learn to enjoy rain.i hate umbrellas rather they hate me.this summer at bangalore i took a umbrella with me for everyday for 15 days expecting rain.on the 15 th day it rained but the umbrella had broken due to the treatment my bag suffers.and then i got drenched by rain and my happiness.

Freshers Day

aargh what a horrible day.
when you drop a set of newcomers amongst women starved bunch of veterans and find that there is not even one newcomer of the other sex what results is mayhem.
yes iam talking about the most pathetic congregation of starved souls trying to have some boyish fun.i really dont know why people are so excited about the idea of sex to the extent enjoying the word sexy uttered by a uninterested junior student.they cant remove this idea from their minds is it?from gay sounding comments to sleazy actions like pocket billiards, oh god looks like my friends can get to their inventive best when they crack their brains regd sex.
its not that iam one of those lady vegetarians(a term invented by, who else but, yet another pathetic junior during this specific event to describe the fact that he is afraid of women and keeps considerable distance away from them) but i see women as just another half of human existence.

Jaywalkers

What could prompt a two legged creature(one which does not possess exceptional reflexes or brilliant speed except the gifted few) to dart across a structure that remotely resembles a circuit of speeding monsters and jump across imposing dividers just to reach the reflection of what it was originally in.
I, being the poorest of road crossers, have always wondered about this species of people to whom the road is the most comfortable stage on which they enact their favourite stunts day in and day out.Two things troubled me.how does one call them? every set of ppl in our society have a collective name but some how i could not find a name for them but finally thanks to THE HINDU i got the word(title of blog)
My second thought was what drives them which i try to speculate
1.a bus on the other side which may take them to their destination(as a matter of fact they dont need it since their stunts themselves might serve as the carriers to the final destination)
2.demonstrtive purpose.(ppl whove seen tamil films like "BOYZ" may agree)
as of now i cant think of anyhting more
any jaywalkers around pls fill me with more and i will also think up of more reasons

why believe?

i have never been a conformist.i have never been a complete believer in god.but i cannot throw away god as a concept totally.for me life is beauty. art in all forms (science,music,literarure) is the prime manifestation of beauty.god, as a concept,(esp in india) has brought out some of the most amazing pieces of art that mankind has ever seen.the search for the supreme(also the question 'who am i?') has given us lots of brilliant works ranging from rabindranath's geetanjali,tyagaraja's kirtanas to modern ilayaraja's tiruvasagam in symphony.it is this link between art and theism that still troubles an agnostic like me(rather makes me an agnostic in the first place)
this brings me to tiruvsagam in symphony.it is the cry of one man's soul for liberation interpreted by another man's extraordinary intellect.hope that more such efforts keep coming from the maestro raja.

wow eureka

thot that i wud never be able to post anything again.as ususal i forgot the id and passwd but have saved it now.

my first blog

i saw schindler's list today.was a special movie.i can't explain how iam feeling now.seems like mankind doesnt know where to stop.they start so many things but are bad finishers.