I am thirsty

A world of palaces, thrones and crowns

Where Man becomes the foe of Man

Where greed of wealth rules the day

What if you win this world, what then?

Every being lies wounded, every soul athirst

Eyes glazed with worry, hearts heavy and depressed

What world is this, bewildered, distraught?

What if you win this world, so accursed?

A world where Man is but a throwaway toy

Teeming with corpses and skeletons

Where life is a struggle and death is cheap

So you win this world-what then?

Where youth roams around in aimless distraction

And bodies adorn themselves to be bought and sold

Where love is but a sordid transaction

So what if this world is in your hold?

A world where humaneness has no place

Where loyalty and friendship means little or naught

Where love is shorn of all nobility and grace

Winning this world , you don’t win a lot.

So burn it to ashes, blow it all up

Push it aside , far away from my sight

Let me withdraw, it is all yours to keep

For a world like this, I will not fight.

Of hide and seek and the beautiful smile

A Journey of Conscience

Seven hours for a mere 150Kms. It was almost unending. The long traffic jam had almost drained us out as we were crawling at snails pace behind the countless number of lorries and other vehicles.

As I peeped out from the window to see thousands of devotees bathing in the Ganges almost oblivious of the rotting jam that we were stuck in. I wished to run away from it but I had little choice than to watch it till it ends. When we got out of the jam it was late evening already, the fast was over but for us. So we cruised along, fighting our way again through potholes and bumps.

I desired for a second, “Oh God, Let me not have to to experience this again” The unaffected and unpretentious love of my parents soon made me regret what I said and that I was ready to experience this a thousand times for them, for them alone.

It is small town of U.P., A state which is notorious for its power cuts. People here rejoice if they get power for 10 hours a day. A place where sometimes a running fan is a luxury and not a necessity in the scorching sweaty heat of summer here.

Material comforts and wealth are no doubt attractive but the soul instead craves for contentment. But not for those with a dead conscience already.

When you say hello as a greeting

I was taken to class recently by a fellow muslim when I didn’t greet him with the usual salam and a handshake.
I have the habit that I don’t like to impose myself of a different faith on others. And don’t let others impose there radical beliefs on me.

Although there is no harm in saying Assalam o alaikum i.e. Let peace, mercy and kindness of God be upon you.
I just don’t want to feel and change my ways according to the "names" people have or "race" they are from and act accordingly.

But there are people who’d avoid and prefer not to side by people just because they have a beard or are devout muslims (or atleast they look like one)
This disgusts me and I eventually take the route that disgusts me even more.

I am hardly, hardly an archetype of a complete muslim and don’t mind much of religion but this not respecting of my privacy and religion puts me into a disarray.
Its a human tendency and quite natural. I begin to sympathisize with my fellow brothers.

"They bomb them, raid them, fuck their mothers and sisters and then call them terrorists" The route from "I love USA" to "I love USAMA" (This is taken from the movie Khuda ke liye meaning "For Gods sake")

I, personally believe that Islam is the most idealistic religion and should be a path to follow for everyone. Its the most peaceful and loving religion anybody can imagine.
Its only that a lot of misunderstandings keep floating about it. And also the lack of right information.
It is a different story although that I still couldn’t persuade myself of being the perfect follower.

moments of quietness

I remember talking to a good friend of mine sometimes back. Although its a little cliched but I just feel like writing it down now.
She goes like,
"The fairer sex always favor and like the company of smart talking boys, who can make them laugh. Not someone who travels around a dreamland twice and ask, Can you share the joke?"

Sometimes memories make us weak, they stop us from going to the extra mile just because we have never been there. But at the same time, they give us valuable means to live, to carry on and never give up.

She carries on,
"You should never try to rescue them stupidly and in turn earn their loathsome kindness. Infact the last thing you would want from them is to be kind to you."

I remember her words and I speak, I trip and fall down and pretend to laugh.
I don't mind being called dumb by others as long as my intense thoughts don't go in vain.

As nostalgia befalls again, I remember

This is the land of my hopes
This is the land of my dreams
This is where men with zeal stayed
Men who answered the leaders' call
It is here that torn-off love
Found the cohesive chords
It is here that wayward passions
Formed into frenzied love
It is here that the wild tulip learnt
How to make the scar of heart aglow
This is the land of my hopes
This is the land of my dreams
This is the place of men of vision
And of those with a challenging thought
Every morning here is new
And every evening newer still
Different is this tavern
And different are its norms
Different are the dancing cups
And different is their dance
Here drinking begets thirst a new
And different is this tavern's call
This is the land of my hopes
This is the land of my dreams
Here, conscience is the beacon light
And conscience is the guide
Here is the Mecca of heart resides the guiding faith
Ceaseless movement is our faith
And blasphemy it is to stay still
Here, the destined goal is the march on and on
Here, the swimming urge seeks
Newer and newer storms
Restless wave itself is our resurrected shore

My Zameer

I had a little chat with her a few months back and I don't know why I am indulging in reminscence of her now.

I spoke to her and as was expected of me, I put forth all that I had in my mind.
I really wish I could be lesser forthright than I am.
Anyway, It was a wonderful experience talking to her. When I took or seeked her help in the decision to be made. She simply said, "I should listen to my zameer (Inner voice)".
Now it was funny because I didn't want to listen to my zameer. It had misguided me several times before.
But now after so long when I reflect upon it a second time, I realize our zameer also takes into account the information you have.
A better informed zameer takes better decisions. So I guess, it wasn't entirely my zameer's fault.

So next time if I ask my zameer, what? why? or even which? and I am not satisfied with the answer in conjunction to the practical world.

I can always backtrack and know for myself.

Change we can believe in?

We all love change as much as we hate it.
Whether we are going to like a new turn of events in our fate, depends on how poised and primed we are for it.
Lets not go into a serious contemplation now. Let me rather see its lighter implications.

We might embrace a change when we want to but we continue to yearn for the old because a change is relative. Soon the old becomes the new new and the new becomes the old new.
So changes are best liked when we can get rid of them whenever we want to. We are most comfortable with them that way, never when its forced on us.

Its like I wouldn't mind sitting in the office till late hours until I am asked. Because its not "work" until you are asked to do it ;)
The inner self will be egoistically inclined to resist the change put up against it. So, its best not to be a desperate bastard to try to give up smoking without a reason or without a conscious mind. One will give up only to start again.

An uninvited change from the outside world on the other hand does not go well with our independence but not many people complain.
As its observed not all of us prefer independence, because with independence comes responsibility and the need to stand like a rock.

Language Combat

The inferiority of one race or language over another is abominable for me. I am coming to know of this more in a foreign land, where we say we are from India and not from Delhi, Mumbai or Chennai.

Its believed that the British Raj exaggerated differences between northern and sourthern Indians beyond linguistic differences to help sustain their control of india.
But looks like we were too innocent to understand that then or I can say we are too stubborn still to get over the arrogance we have developed so far.

The thing that eats me is not a virtual wall that stands between us (Indo Aryans and Dravidians) but the pretense we all live in.
We are one, we will all say but I have seen disgust and unfriendliness deep inside some people for our national language.
I won't suggest forcing down one language over somebody or a group of people because it can have undesirable repercussions. But If we understand this, we will sure win hearts and develop respect of each other.