Enigma

Along came an angel, bespectacled,
brimming with life and joys galore.
To mark her presence, in no uncertain terms,
she hit the cord, and we all took note.

She kept afar from all thus far,
and into a world so obscure and debarred.
She spoke of none, and to few of us,
a darling yet she was, now for the laughing lot.

The tempo tempered as the words reached her,
and engulfed her into a deeper unknown.
The tides had ebbed, the steam yet fresh,
enchained beneath, those eloquent black eyes.

Mysterious girl, is what I think of her;
A moment she cries, the next she feigns a smile.
So benign, I wish I could nurture the child,
long before she fell prey to the wild.

Now as her world dawns on a new day,
to heal the wounds, of a forgettable day,
As the Carcass, limps towards a life, I hope,
she gets her due and all that's just right!!

And yet I ponder, to believe the spectacle ... or not...

In search of "Direction" (incomplete)

There's a question that has stayed with me for the last few years, and I am yet to find an answer to it. What is it that I want to be or want to do in my life is perhaps a crude portrayal of the same? I have pondered over it for the last few years, since I came out of college and an answer to it is almost over due.
The question would appear rather simplistic and more so cliched, especially in the context of the youth of my era, where thoughts like these would be an anachronism. Today we (barring me) know all too well where we are heading. Today the winds of opportunity blow so hard that it carries all those who wish to be in its path. But I know not if my destiny and my resting place lies in the rarefied strata, so revered by the bourgeois.

In short, i am in search of Direction and Destination. I don't seek "The Right Direction" as most people would guess about my state of mind. Rather i feel, "The Right Direction" carries a lot of redundancy with itself. The Right Direction means the direction to your right hand side, and it can mean nothing else. Technically speaking, direction is a vector quantity which has a value (of purpose) and a (not the) direction (in its elementary form). The latent value of purpose is transformed into tangible results through Direct Action (Direct + Action = Direction).

By direction, i don't imply that I be told what i ought to do or what to make of myself. But to see for myself, my road, leading beyond the horizon before it drowns its self into the sands of time. To make one direction of my own, which is distinct from those of the others and not in conflict with anybody's.

.
.

.

.

As Richard Feynman quit aptly called it.... to know the meaning of it all, about me and my life. I am significantly (and purposely) restricting Dr. Feynman's vision, because to know the meaning of it all, one has to begin with himself, and it is on this journey that I embark upon.

Faith! Should I trust you? (Incomplete...)

As the journeys begin to a beautiful unknown,
I search through the pages of times bygone;
the trails of believers of the yesteryears,
that guide us through trials forever.

I tried to size into many a different feet,
and continued to belabor in this excruciating heat;
until I traversed the entire trodden path,
to find, not a step, befitting in the vast expanse.

Today, I shook my head in vain and despair,
searching in sparkles of brine for hope somewhere;
Moments of triumph linger down the memory lane,
to remind me of days sans much pain.

Wonder Years - Part 2 (2001)

The nights quite long, days rather short,
educes the question, to live or abort;
The dams are open and waters flow,
sometimes they rush else so slow.

The silent tides, they ebb and crest;
never they die, but they do rest;
Tireless they roam, over rocky terrain,
marking the way, forever to remain.

The thoughts exist, but so obscure,
images are blurred, like waters they wore;
The tides rise in a quite crescendo,
before each siesta, to trail and go.

As they lay, back to the earth,
times rolled back, with no dearth;
Anticipation grew by each moment,
awaiting the warm glance with distinct accent.

As returns arrive, with galloping speed,
the entire gamut of frames, flash beneath the eyelid;
The epilogue nears, as shadows seek the horizon,
and the wait resumes for the dams to reopen.

..........b'coz this is one thing I valued most after all.

Wonder Years - Part 1 (2000)

A night had passed, one set to arrive,
the days blow, but on nights I thrive;
The thoughts flow, but the dams remain,
over the smooth and rocky terrain.

Deep down the way there it was,
the something I had always dreamt of;
A sail amidst the isles of adversity,
full of laughter and great variety.

A slender figure , yet imposing,
a bit confused, still convincing;
The days show, a touch of aura,
while nights cast a bed of flora.

The heart cried, with gates wide open,
and eyes glittered as dams reopened;
As air narrowed into a warm valley,
the words flowed in a huge rally.

Alas! it had a halt,
sorry if I was at fault;
I pray it shouldn't stop at all,
b'coz this is something, I valued most after all.

The nights have returned, so dark,
A lonely figure, beneath the starless park;
The thoughts flow but the dams remain,
As I wait for them to open once again.

Living Angels (A tribute to the nurses of Jaslok hospital, Mumbai) 2001

The lights recede, as shadows arrive,
the flame shivers, as storms drive;
The will wobbles, as waters overflow,
as the oblivious foe shows its face.

As the pages of times unfold,
a glimmer of hope they behold;
The paradise is here, with gates wide open,
I felt a hug there, and my will firmed up.

The angels drowned in spotless white,
with smiles ON they looked so very bright;
The milky crown, showed the aura,
while the silent speech, cast a bed of flora.

They come with sweet imagination,
and toil with undented dedication;
They infuse zeal and enthusiasm,
with a good bit of conviction.

The turbulent seas began to calm,
as they kissed me with their warm palms;
They bestowed upon me their blessings,
which I can never repay by thanksgiving.

Now as the dawn nears,
I am delivered from all fears;
In retrospect as I look back at the crests and troughs of the terrain,
let the pages crumble,
but these memories will be there forever to remain.

Extend a helping hand!!!

Before you read this, let us contemplate, how we treat our youngsters (not kids) or our juniors in general, especially in office space. This occurred to me, during the last few months of my ordeal in office. Although personally I didn't suffer much affliction, I was pained to see how some of the junior members of my team were treated.

Looking back, (if any of you had read my first post), I think of the timeless quote in hindi "jo bhi hota hai achhe ke liye hota hai". You may wonder why?
Since I was here (in the IT industry) more by accident than by design, I was completely ill-prepared for any task entrusted to me. But I was fortunate to have Nirav bhai and Pravinbhai as my immediate seniors, who would help me make the transition rather smoothly. It all began with them ,literally, hand holding and teaching me some of the tricks of the trade. Like any fresh college graduate, me and sanket (my partner throughout my first job) would gobble up all the knowledge bestowed upon us. Although the macro scenario wasn't that encouraging, we constantly received proper encouragement and guidance from our seniors (in spite of numerous pitfalls), which went a long way to assuage some of our fears. So my first stint in the IT industry had its fair share of bright spots as well. I can say so with the advantage of hindsight.

Today I stand, right at the opposite end of the spectrum.
Me now being a relatively senior (going by the time spent in the project) member of the team, had to collectively guide some of the new joiners. As with all newbies, they were all bubbling with energy and prepared to take up any task given to them. But to their misfortune, they had come into a project, which would soon be on fire.

Initially, it was all easy going (for most of them) but it was perhaps the lull before the storm. Slowly as things started going a bit awry, everybody started looking out for scapegoats. The freshers as expected were easy targets. They not only received verbal bashing behind closed doors, but some of them had to also put up with public humiliation. From some of those bright sparkling eyes, were now emanating tiny droplets of the approaching dusk. Their youthful optimism had slowly transformed into disillusionment, and now shaping into sheer frustration. All of this started having a deleterious effect on their health. Some took to bed, while others labored on with worn out tools. It was a pitiful sight, to see them turn into objects of ridicule.

In retrospect, when I look back, I wonder, if all that could have been avoided.
Some argued, under the pretext, "Let them get a taste of the real world" others said "Every man for himself" and the rest (including me) watched the carnage unfold before them, as mute spectators. So that implicates me too. By doing so, I am not trying to take a moral high ground, but its an admission of guilt. It could have so easily been a joyride, than the tumultuous journey it eventually turned into. I do not have all the answers, partly because, I am unaware of some of the games that are played out in the higher echelons. But answers need to be found at all levels of the hierarchy. It all should start with each one of us owning up to our share of the blame, which might be difficult, considering the "EGO" dynamics. But still, each one of us needs to introspect, and come up with solutions to heal those wounds and put our house back into order. Treat each individual as an independent mind and customize the solutions to meet their developmental needs.

Similar stories must have played out in the innumerable offices doting the Indian landscape, with different characters obviously. The big question is; are we a nation of hypocrites who so conveniently project our young workforce as the "Great Talent Pool", but treat them as nothing more than servants who do all our menial jobs. We treat them as our subordinates rather than as new partners. This organizational hierarchy is so deeply entrenched in the Indian psyche, that it will be hard to change. But shouldn't it change?

So, lets extend a helping hand and embrace our new generation.

Eternal Silence

As the gallant is on an imminent decline,
the angel , with sublime innocence resurges;
with chirping melody , that inebriates a stoic
and the smile so sweet I fell in love with.

The days sailed , and the times paused,
as I admired the beauty that cascaded;
Just as the grandiose world was none to see,
before a promenade beside the sea.

Alas! I stalled her way to the destined fame,
and the spirits within went into complete mayhem;
The times rolled back in moments of reflection,
as I sank into an epoch of self-contemplation.

Now as the world rejoices in your name,
I feel like a man possessed, sans shame;
May your wins know no bounds,
and make me feel like never before proud.

Silent Eloquence

Inhibitions flew on the wings of times,
as the nascent buds of love sprouted within;
Emotions inundated my heart in holy shrines,
and we sailed into those exalted precincts.

Those eloquent eyes, that serene smile,
your inebriating voice, and the charm sans guile,
engulfs me into the heights untouched,
and I bask in light of thy love, long searched.

Those cozy evenings, and the speechless moments,
is a prelude to the times, so soothing and clement;
The little mischief, and the puny arguments,
leave indelible impressions, of tacit agreements.

Today I metamorphose into an eternal optimist,
as the dream, with you in my life seem so lucid;
The prevailing winds accentuates the belief,
yet I reaffirm to fulfill the promises....implicit.

Naive Arguments (from 9th grade)

In the midst of city, there there lives a lad,
full of ambition but still sad;
with no trust in everybody,
neither envious against anybody.

Then from somewhere around a corner,
came a sweet girl by nature's order;
Full of belief and brimming devotion,
she tried to change the boy's imagination.

She tried to induce hope and trust,
and to 'live' which she called is a must,
But he paid no attention to her noble advice,
and thought his lifestyle, safe and more wise.

She tried many a more hundred times,
until at last she committed her last crime;
Finally she shook her head in despair,
the gallant still searched for bliss somewhere.

Madamji (in Hindi)

Ek waqt beeta, chand lamho jaisa,
aayi sandhya, fir bhor ka intezaar kaisa;
Do pal ki mulaqat thi, fir yeh gham kyu,
guzarta jhoka hi to hai, fir yeh aalam kyu.

Kuch is tarah aye who mere jahan mein,
navjivan wani liye zaban mein,
Maddham hui zindagi, shor-e-halaal se,
pariyon ka saya ho jaise kapal pe.

Har mushkil mein unki yaad aati hai
yakeen hai , uchit marg dikhlati hai,
Man mein guru ka sthan deta hoon ,
aapke satkaar mein shish jhukata hoon.

Ab udasi si chayi hai is man me,
jo gham ki syahi se likhi is kagaz mein,
Kya kahe zindagi kuch aise hi fisalati ja rahi hai,
par aisa kyu hai ki kuch apno ko jane bina hi ,
…………. wo hamse ruksat ho leti hai.

Mutthi bhar yadein (in Hindi)

Ek lamha gira, zindagi thi meri,
panchhiyon si udi, khwahishein thi meri;
tinnka tinnka mila, ghosalaa ban gaya,
ek jhonka hua, bas yaadein reh gayi.

woh dost the mile, ya naye gul khile,
karwaan tha naya aur naye silsile;
saadagi se bhare, naram woh piyale,
kilkilati hansi ke jude kaafile.

ek ehsaas tha, ek vishwaas tha,
ankahe labzo ka ek andaaz tha.
ek pal jo lade, fir naya pal jiye,
mitti ke teelon sa apna sansaar tha.

fir mude chal diye apni raahein liye,
main bhi tha badh chala, laakho sapne liye;
adchanein thi kayei, the magar humsafar,
aur irshya bhari woh anjaan nazar.

har ghadi dekhu main, is andherein tale,
khwabon ka janazaa, roop sehra liye.
kaash ji loo agar, fir woh maasoom pal,
karwatein thi meri, aainaa ban gayi.

Confessions of an "Eligible" Bachelor

As my caravan arrived at the critical juncture,
I prepare myself to face the moment of truth;
A moment that comes but once, in life,
to change it forever, by design or disaster.

All past anxieties now seems like a speck,
against a deluge of uncertainties I walk into;
The fleeting moments of grief n joy, of past,
I recall, appear too tiny to rely upon.

I pace between the gates of heart and mind,
to discern a way through the clogged drains
...of my other whole.
The cradle of heart sang many a gentle hymn,
until the legacy of the mind shredded it all into pieces.

The dilemma gets murkier at the doorstep of dawn,
or whether I'd recede into a deeper darkness;
The choice is mine, but not entirely mine,
whatever be the turn of the coin;
when I look back from the shores above,
I wish I could make one life worth living.