Friday, April 22, 2011

Impromptu...

Once upon a time, in the streets of erstwhile Purulia, now an epitome of barbaric mayhem, a poor little kid found a pencil left astray. Elated at finding something he could, finally, scribble his thoughts, his ideas with, he picked it up and without losing a moment, started writing. Since the activity brought happiness and relief to his otherwise disturbed mutated soul (remember the mayhem!), he remained indulgent in writing for hours together everyday. No sooner he realized the lead of the pencil was getting exhausted with every passing day than he started writing as quickly as he possibly could for he deemed it criminal not to share the innumerable ideas that struck him on an every-moment basis that, he thought, required to be penned somewhere fearing loss in a maze of ideas that changed configuration every moment. But, the pity was the more he wrote, the more the lead greased against the paper, the faster it exhausted. He was often spotted worried thinking, ideating in a solitary place by the riverside. Finally he started praying to the almighty who, after the regular quota of prayers, duly obliged. The almighty told him, “My dear son, you called me and here I am. Every idea that you wanted humanity to benefit from, son, shall emanate from each person every moment across the perimeter of mother earth meaning someone somewhere shall pen them for you. So, think never [deliberately written in this order] your ideas shall vanish in thin air. No, they shall not. And, while I am busy awakening those lost souls, dormant spirits, you could, perhaps, do well to come up with an idea to find yourself a pencil again."

Saturday, March 12, 2011

A Strange Boulevard


A mist so heavy has done me in 
Nothing to hold on to and a cold biting 
Bereft of vision I am 
And robbed of all powers of mind 
I tread a strange boulevard 
Worse than a mountain to climb 
The only way is forward 
There’s no going back 
I tried once only 
To fall on my face, flat 
I can’t see anyone 
To look up to 
Where’re they all gone 
What’s my fate making me do 
I had a hundred dreams 
I had a million plans 
When was the last time 
I had a lovely dance 
I can’t recall anything 
What’s wrong with me 
Sans all things human 
Am I set free 
Oh no! my lord 
Here begs your son 
Give me my life back 
Give me my splendid sun 
I swear to you 
Shall not let you down 
Shall do my duties as a human  
This time around 
How the cosmos conspired 
And built a deadly fence 
I can see it all now 
In the divine transparence 
There were those forces 
That demonized me 
The insidious intentions 
I couldn’t see 
The life so precious 
I wasted how 
Only if I could show 
How regretful I’m now 
Oh! The strange boulevard 
You showed me the path 
I’ll make it count this time 
Today I avow


R.S. 29 November 2010

Saturday, October 16, 2010

...yours Kokin

The rising sun is here to wake,
a breeze so gentle bathes my face.
A random run around the house,
a glance there, a jump off the couch.
My eyes wander, they look for you,
the slight embrace, the kiss is due.
I don't know what to do all day,
I barked so hard I had a fray.
When all the people get me wrong,
your memories run with me along.
I promise I'll be good with all,
I'll never bite the baby doll.
I got so scared the other night,
I wished at once to hold you tight.
I missed the warmth I always had,
except the time I wanted it bad.
No run no play no appetite,
can do it all, can't do it right.
I'm sorry for I made you sad,
here's your photograph up for grab.
I'll wait for you seconds and days,
until you return to end the haze.
Come back soon, caress my skin,
With a lot of love, yours Kokin.

R.S. 16 October 2010

Sunday, October 10, 2010

I Hope...

One short forehand jab and that was it. The entire arena got inked with a single script that read: Minnows no more! Yes, Somdev Devvarman has won the Commonwealth Games (CWG, henceforth) Lawn Tennis Men's Singles Title in great style outdoing his Australian opponent 6-4, 6-2. Yesterday was a splendid day for India in the Commonwealth Games. BUT, this write-up is not to reflect on the NEWS.

I intend to dissertate on the CWG itself. Until recently, India's inexplicable romance with the business world,politics and cricket provided the masses with, generically, the only three potent avenues of altercations, in most cases, and discussions, in not so great numbers,over coffee tables, corporate lunches, family dinners, etc. at large. The much brouhaha surrounding the CWG Managing Committee and the games itself was, I thought, dissuasive enough to pull the masses away from the stadia but to my bewilderment and ecstasy, it was not to be. And I wish to adduce the humongous attendance at various arenas, stadia to accentuate the popularity of the games, in general and their flag-bearers (the players!), in particular. I see the CWG in the light of resurgence of games like Hockey, Wrestling, Boxing and the inception of public interest in games like Gymnastics. BUT, there are a large number of questions glooming around us yet to be answered.

Why is it that we follow and talk about certain games only "partially" (I am an optimist!)while some others rank much above in our priority lists. I don't think anybody who watched yesterday's Hockey match between India and Pakistan found it any less adrenaline pumping than any Indo-Pak cricket encounter( I say this with no disrespect or offence to cricketers or cricket lovers; I too belong to the tribe). The entire stadium was behind India (just for your information, the match was SOLD OUT) and what a match it was! I don't wish to digress from the central issue here.My friend told me about the plight of games like Gymnasium. Now that Ashish Kumar has won a bronze and a silver in Gymnasium, people's attention has been drawn to some extent. The Indian Gymnastics coach was complaining the other day that the Indian team is not being sent only to various international championships across the globe, then, how do we expect them to win? But, the big question is, who expects from them, in the first place. Issues like this ought to be addressed and discussed about, in public.

One thing that's disappointed me has been the absolute absence of film-stars (demigods, rather). Now is the time they should come up and pull the crowd towards the games. Now is the time they should  put their star power to use. Now is the time they should talk in public about the games, in general, participate in discussions, bolster youngsters to tale games other than cricket seriously. Except for Rahul Bose (who I saw appearing for an interview with some news channel on the state of Gymnasium in India, just because he himself has been a Gymnastics enthusiast), I couldn't see anyone else supporting the cause. Marketing can work wonders for anything and everything in this world and where do we need it the most? We need it the most to popularize different games in India where, unfortunately, its power is yet to be harnessed.

In an era of perfect "noise", I hope fellow bloggers discourse formally on this issue, I hope an epiphany of sorts strikes us all so we appreciate the existence and significance of games other than cricket, I hope our demigods come out in open and use their power to support the cause, I hope the euphoria surrounding the games doesn't phase out giving way to an ever-present gloom, I hope the central and the state governments pay heed to games and players, respect them, reward them (on merit) and help them lead a dignified life,
I hope...

Peace

"Hope is a good thing. Infact the best of things, and no good thing ever dies." ['Red' in 'The Shawshank Redemption']


Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Spirit of Desperation - II

Hello Everyone!

It's been ages since I scribbled anything here. Actually, I am someone who is entirely driven by 'desperation' and that is why I need to wait for the  'kick'.

I recently finished reading Fooled by Randomness by Nassim Nicholas Taleb and loved it. The book talks of the existence (rather, predominance) and significance of 'unpredictability' and 'randomness' in the vacuum surrounding us. We, generically, have a propensity towards sketching a pattern around occurrence of certain events, more so if we find repetitiveness of some order. For instance, an Option Trader may have taken a certain position out of sheer desperation (fearing a "blow-up") which might have yielded a grand Return and there it is... he tries to establish some sort of probabilistic pattern around the event thanks to, unfortunately, the Math lessons he attended at an elite B-School and secondly owing to his being human. This is a trap that we ,almost all the time, fail to gauge and fall prey to.

Last evening, we all witnessed the grandest spectacle in India's sports history- the opening ceremony of the XIX Commonwealth Games (CWG). I couldn't ignore the innumerable tweets praising the Indian Army on  'successful' (it has become a 'subjective' term now, hope Mr. Kalmadi is listening)completion of the building of 'the' foot-over bridge in flat 5(or 4?) days. And, it gives me pleasure to see 'desperation' playing a huge role there! Now that the opening ceremony has been a huge success in itself, it's time for the athletes to let 'desperation' get the better of them and win medals for the country, for themselves.

I met a person named Mr. Javed Iqbal (a photojournalist with The New Indian Express)during the screening of a couple of documentaries at Vikalp (Prithvi House). He has covered naxalism, illegal land-grab issues, illegal mining issues,etc. in the areas of Chhatisgarh and Orissa primarily, in great depth (you can read his articles on moonchasing.wordpress.com). And all of this has inspired me to write a script (finally!)entailing issues like naxalism, illegal land-grab, illegal mining, and recent killings of RTI activists and weaving a correlation, a link between these. The good thing is I have already started the research (secondary research, unfortunately! Ah! the cruel corporate world and the eternal loan-trap).

I watched an interview of Sir Ian Mckellen with BBC and the aura of the great Gandalf (Lord of the Rings)engulfed me instantly. Here's quoting him from the interview -  "...and for a man who doesn't have children to have bountiful grandchildren all over the world is...lovely."And then immediately, I thought of Sir Anthony Hopkins and Mr. Robin Jackman (the most modest and the most polite cricket commentator who my eyes were searching for during the entire IPL semi-final match between Deccan Chargers and Chennai Super Kings). I often wonder I have been desperate for a lot of things all my life (until now); for a lot many more, I still am.

Peace.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The Spirit of Desperation - I


The Bihar Economy grew by 11 per cent in the last five years, so I hear. Phrases like "Growth Miracle" and CM Nitish Kumar's "From No-Governance to sincere Governance" have clogged my head in much the same way as a monstrous Sinusitis. Bihar is making progress, sorry, continuous progress. Relevant authorities are working day-in and day-out towards building roads, bridges and other infrastructure. Significant reforms are being brought up in important sectors like Education, Public Health. Just a few minutes ago, I came to know a new Cyber Crime mitigation (& redressal) cell has been set up where one could make a complaint online. There are innumerable imponderables that may seek one's attention. But, what about me? I hail from the state of Bihar, did my schooling there and then left for Mumbai to further my education, my knowledge, my understanding of the world. Did I succeed? Yes. Did I fail? Yes. "Yes" in acquiring it all and "Yes" in losing the intent behind acquiring it all.

I pursued a five-year integrated MBA (Tech.) program from an elite business school here in Mumbai and am currently working with an MNC quite well compensated. It's a bank and is a good enough platform to kickstart my career. But, my mind is elsewhere. I also wish to be a part of the "Growth Miracle" and not indirectly. I have always wished to work somewhere where I could directly influence people's lives in a positive way. I could console myself by thinking the whole of India is mine and it, indeed, is but my heart is here, in Bihar and at my village in particular. I am not saying all this because of homesickness. I have been homesick for as long as 6 years now, so that is, indeed, not the cause. the cause of this horrible terrible disturbance is Desperation. I look towards the Idiot Box, flip through the channels vigorously only to stop at Mahuaa TV and I look at the Villages being shown, the cows, the oxen, the buffaloes, the tractors (the red ones, especially), the grasses, the crop-fields, the canals, the people, the dialect, the people's ensemble, the trees, the ponds, the wells, the huts, the kachcha homes, a couple of primitive pakka homes, the schools, the techers, the bicycles,the paan shops, the small rickety grocery shops. I am desperate to embrace them all to never relinquish them. I wish to contribute to their growth by assisting the government with better governance, better execution of programs, employment schemes; I wish to look after the functioning of schools, to leverage my knowledge to better the mode as well as the content of education being imparted to children, to ensure every child goes to school and every person (mothers especially) is well educated about the positives of family-planning, birth control measures and significance of education. I wish to work towards producing many Village Level Entrepreneurs (VLEs) who could then contribute towards the Common Services Centre (CSC) or the e-Governance project initiated by the Government of India, I wish to help people work in cohesion and initiate many Self-Help Groups (SHGs) and Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) that could help the Government with better execution of its flagship schemes and also keep vigilance on the same. I wish to totally utilize my skills, competencies, and knowledge to harness the huge potential that villages have to offer. For example: I wish to work towards making villages a bio-gas hub, a solar-energy hub, etc. I wish to  create a virtual market for agriculturists (marginal farmers, especially) so that the hapless bread-growers needn't travel miles to sell their harvests for a meagre sum. Instead, they would only focus on their work i.e. growing crops, the rest would be taken care of by the virtual market. More on this later for I do not wish to digress from the point I wish to make.

I wish to do a lot many more things but I can't. I just CAN'T. I have a humongous loan to repay which has already amounted to almost INR 10 Lacs which requires me to work away from home for at least a couple of years more. I know I shall return one day but I wish that day was today for I wish to become a part of the process, the transformation, the growth, the miracle so that I could do justice to the humongous sum I invested in acquiring all that I intended to utilize to influence my people's lives directly. This is the spirit of desperation that questions me every now and then when shall I start and I only wish I could say - Today !  

Monday, February 1, 2010

Reminiscences of a fuhrer



Reminiscences of a fuhrer


I evoked dread in them all,
No.....actually I used to,
'twas long ago
even memory betrays me.

One day, I was their pride;
a symbol of strength, power, and might to some,
whereas to some, I epitomized beauty and even identity.

An inseparable part of their lives, I was.
Punctuated a canvas sometimes,
I've often enjoyed my part in many a folklore too;
mascot to innumerable events across the globe,
they've all been slaves to my charismatic woo.

And then, there've been times when
creatures much weaker to me have
challenged the mother nature and 
forced me into an undeserved brutal penitentiary
-- the ugly thankless trespassers !

There are times when I so desperately wish
I could rant my vitriol onto them,
but I can't....
I can't articulate the way they do, the trespassers.

There are times when I so desperately wish
I could urge and plead them, the trespassers,
to go back to their land and leave my haven,
as my family, to my grief and their joy, 
reduces to a meagre fourteen hundred and eleven.

There are times when I so desperately wish
the halcyon years returned.
I became the fuhrer once again 
and they all kept distance,
respecting my identity and dreading my presence. 


R.S. February 01, 2010.