Being in addiction

Approval and acceptance
from the 'other'
are the alms one begs
from everyone around
going round and round
to friends, colleagues, parents, sister,
brother, spouse, children, lover, stranger
until it becomes a habit worse
than a grass.

Awareness
helps one to return
to one’s religion
of seven qualities;
happiness, peace,
power, love, purity
knowingness, bliss
and bring each one of them
into action.

It delivers a being
from the worst addiction.

Unanswered questions

Red tears, hurting the earth
every day, spreading like rage
pages unread, buried with
raindrops, dewdrops
trying to heal the wounds.

Words wanting to conceal
failing into sophism
getting clouded, cluttered
in volumes of useless methods
to wipe the fears; to numb the queries
they question the color and the pain.

Far off, a shepherd
just left his flute on the field
that was singing of love,
now outdated, captured as painting
like a deadlock that’s adorning
the walls of several museums
obedient asylums
standing in tandem
without questions.

Out on the two-thousand-year old field
beyond words and methods
young clouds are breaking into waters
just born dawns, softening the earth
with dewdrops.

The painted shepherd looks at the herd
then, at the flute, he wants to come out
from the place of the dead, live and be heard.

Ceremonies prevent the event beyond doubt
starving words have to eat the truth
they are, as it were, famished;
in the middle of salty waters  
uninvited intruders
spreading like a red carpet
the ostentatious supper begins.

Only some buried questions
same hidden questions
unanswered, remain.

Ignoring the salient truth
is clouding the crown,
taking refuge in nature
seems to be the only option
questions harness
hiding, hanging, hurling, hissing, humming
everywhere in medias res
truth blooms outside though into fruition
inside is blind with darkness
a field tonsured
turning the flutist jobless
with questions unanswered.

Un poème bête

Un poème bête

Les cons par conséquent

courent après le qu’on dira-t-on

sans qu’ils sachent que la vérité

depuis l’éternité

ne se trouve pas dehors

qu’elle dort bien à l’intérieur

désormais les bêtes ils aiment

vivre dans le mensonge

ne pas se réveiller
de leur songe

c’est le jeu que ces anges
adorent jouer.

Hitler is the shepherd

Jesus was crucified.

Hitler committed suicide.

While the former
said, ‘hate the sin,
not the sinner’
it fell on deaf ears, went unheard,
the latter, a genocide ruler
has herds of sheep
to take care.

Hitler is the shepherd
a true leader
living in action.

Jesus has long disappeared
we worship HIM without fail,
especially on Sundays
in big mansions.

GOLD, an appreciation

GOLD, an appreciation

I would recommend everyone to watch this film. Not only is it flawless in all the parameters of a film, viz. screenplay, script, direction, acting, music direction, it is also very special in its content and presentation. The song scenes are measured and they kind of take us back to the historicity the film was trying to depict. 

Personally I connected with the film because it tells a different story of the two nations, unfortunately separated by design by the Brits, who took full advantage of the differences they had in terms of beliefs, viz. religion. It is different in that the story is about the popular game hockey which is at the epicenter of the film. India and Pakistan have spread enough of bad breath with stories full of hatred and anger ever since the separation; we have no dearth of them. Here’s a story that has most elegantly and affectionately recounted the togetherness these two countries had shared. Unfortunately such stories are not told, but they need to be told and retold. The ghastly and horrendous aspects of separation have been most effectively truncated from the film; quite rightly so, because I think now it is time to walk past those poignant incidents; we need more of such stories that can mend the relationship than end, that can unite the broken hearts, heal the wounds of mindless battles the two countries had witnessed since a long time. Did we really want to separate… more pertinent question is that did we gain from the separation… not for certain regions of the undivided India upon which the wheels of dissension severed the country into amputated parts. Bengal and the Punjab can hardly forget the perils of separation, just like certain parts of Europe can hardly forget the World wars. 

It was heartening to watch Indians, who became foreigners overnight as Indians and Pakistanis after 1947, supporting each other like long lost brothers, although they were playing as separate nations against the Europeans. However, the film also faithfully presented the divides we nursed among Indians, viz. North Indians, South Indians, East and West Indians way back in 1948, seventy years ago. Unfortunately the disconnects still exist, perhaps in much greater dimensions and it is precisely through these holes of dissensions that enter defeat and failures, be it a game or any project we take up as Indians.We can see similar display of intolerance in any organization, be it at the dining table or at the working table; people from the same regions stick together and constantly criticize other states. For a Tamil uses Bangali or a Gujarati as an abuse and vice versa. And the management does nothing to educate their workforce into thinking of the workforce primarily as employees of the organisation, then as Indians to ensure that the employees can connect easily and become more productive. The situation is very sad; so much so that if the HR (Human Resource) of every organization doesn’t pull up its socks now, then it might badly hit the businesses in the days to come. However, it was heartwarming to see how Samrat, played by Kunal Kapoor, would address Tapan Das, the protagonist, played by our dear Akshay Kumar as 'Bangali' in the most affectionate way as possible.

However, let me not deviate from the main topic, which is about the film GOLD. I think it is worth watching many times because, apart from sending an important message across, it has also entertained the audience with the vivid and the most enthralling indigenous sport that is Hockey. One could argue to view the film as a repetition of Chak de India, but it is not because of its difference in space and time, for it has talked about hockey that was very popular during the late thirties and lasted for quite a long time when India and Pakistan were considered the undisputed champions of the world, as jewels that could bring GOLD for their respective countries from the Olympics. The protagonist, who decided to build a team for Independent India in two years (in 1948), was disillusioned with the partition of India that he perhaps did not factor. The teams comprising Muslims and Anglo Indians had to leave the new India and go off to Pakistan and Australia respectively. This aspect made the film less filmy and more down-to-earth. However, with sheer resilience and support from his wife, other players, the Buddhist monastery providing space to practise, and the kind-hearted Parsi Mr Wadia, Tapan Das could finally form a world-class team.  

While the singers Daler Mehandi, Vishal Dadiani, Yasser Desai have done a wonderful job as singers, the actors including Akshay Kumar, Mouni Roy, Amit Sadh (wonderfully acted out the 'royal' snobbery that proved to be a bane for the team), Kunal Kapoor, Sunny Kaushal (Himmat was played incredibly well by this young man), Jatin Sarna did a remarkable job more as team players than as individual performers, their synergy in acting married the intent of the film well enough to take us back to those good old days we left behind, years ago...when the nation was one. My heartfelt gratitude goes to Farhan Akhtar and Ritesh Sidhwani as producers… wonderful effort to gift us a story that makes us think of the days when we fought for a common mission, for a common goal to free India from the foreign invaders ruling us for centuries.

I was moved to see how 'rain' played an important role in the film; I am not going to reveal everything... please go and watch...GOLD is one of the very few Hindi films you can watch with family. Finally, I heaved a sigh of relief to see that the film did not paint the Whites (the Brits) all black; they were shown with their characteristic sportsmanship when they started applauding for India, the defending champions; this is indeed possible for Brits; for a long time this was also common with the audience of Eden Gardens of Kolkata too.

The audience automatically stood up when the national anthem was sung and the tricolor fluttered in the air upon winning the most coveted GOLD by defeating the Brits in their own land! A film truly worth watching, a story that reaffirms the belief that old is GOLD.

Message to Farhan Akhtar
I am not a professional reviewer, I am sure this review lacks the finesse of a seasoned reviewer. This film appealed to me to the core, I had an instant connect with it; I am sure there are many like me who could also connect with the intent of the film. Thank you once again for financing such a beautiful film. Would urge you to continue screening similar stories hiding in every nook and corner of these three countries; stories that could help Bangladesh, Pakistan and India rediscover themselves in the light of friendship. We may never unite as one country, but we can certainly unite as the best of neighbors, “humlog milke nara to laga sakte Bangladesh Zindabad, Pakistan Zindabad, India Zindabad”.

Proposing an initiative to see us in the next FIFA
I wonder if this would reach out to you and your team, but I am sending my vibrations through this virtual space so that it reaches to people who matter. With your effort, I am sure the three countries can sit together and work out some strategies to take part in the next FIFA, the absence of the sub-continent, despite being die-hard football fans is really sad. I am sure Pakistan, Bangladesh and India have potential footballers like Messy, Naymar, MBappe. It would be an engaging effort, we have time of about four years; the brilliant and commendable effort by the Ambanis in Let’s football can be leveraged in the context. If we look harder, we can surely find talents like Tapan Das too; someone who can selflessly form robust teams for the three countries.

Lost companion

When you are alone,
yet have a whole crowd to praise
your crown, your throne
when your garden is full with gaze
of plastic flowers, real thorns
when you are far too forlorn
when you drown yourself
in false accolades, gentle, polite smiles
gleaming lies that mesmerize
yet you feel hollow meaningless, cold, frozen
you are submerged in bank balance
but could bank on none
it’s then that you look around
from the heaven to the ground
searching for your lost companion.

When you are unsuccessful in life
you end up in skirmish and strife
you suffocate in the midst of insults
when failures hunt and chase
in medias res
your savings wither
in thick clouds of worrying weather
when you drain your balance
when to live doesn’t make sense
love disappears, there’s no trace of fun
it’s then that you look around
from the heaven to the ground
searching for your lost companion.

My companion

When you weren’t there

my world was arid
the rains and the clouds
were buried under the sky
but now, when you are here
with me, I see kindness
take away the droughts
with it, all my doubts
you brought a garden with you
for me, full of fruits, flowers
brooks and singing birds.
The sky smiles, the earth chirps.

O dear lover, all I want to say
is that I love you, don’t leave me
ever again;
without you, my organs don’t mellow
they don’t function I cannot follow
my instinct, my ears and eyes
become a pack of lies
I realise I cannot be
without you beside me
you are my inner power,
a stream of ceaseless light
my companion,
my world, my only delight.

Lady leaders

O men!
You have been ruling the world
for long,
ruining it more;
throughout history,
you showed your strength
used power at length
for all the wrong reasons.

O men! Sorry
if it sounds unfair,
but ladies didn’t have the right to vote
you didn't bother to include them
as late as in the twentieth century
to say the least,
their education is still at the mercy
of muscular men,
some decades ago
you’d burn them alive, like beasts
let them die and go
with their dead husbands
Amen!

O men! O dear!
You scratched the world into pieces
like a scrapbook delinquents would tear
divided it with walls and borders
but now no more
you cannot keep the so-called
weaker gender
in the confines of your home
so sweet and tender,
to build your family
and subjugate them to surrender
to their master?
Amen!

O men!
Let women rule the world now
you will see how,
more than ruling, they will serve,
care for the world
and soon it'd be a better place
to live and love
filled with charm and grace.

O heaven!
Let men step back
for the world to be moving
as one single home
without a trace of hatred and fear
under the guidance of women
in the able hands of lady leaders.

Waiting

I am waiting

for what I don’t know.

Good times?

Or is it you

I’m waiting for!

We are all waiting

for hard times to be over

for darkness to end;

like Godard’s tout va bien,

waiting for Godot

we are Didi of today,

without Gogo.

We are waiting

for the Sun, who's on his own

to wake us up

to lead us into light;

the star shines bright

as it were

despite gloomy clouds

all alone.

Happy Independence Day

Happy Independence Day
to all my countrymen,

to the young and the old,

the weak and the bold

to all men, women,
transgender and children,

to the poor and the rich,
in this land of bliss!

May my country flourish
to bring about peace
in the minds and the hearts
of all brothers and sisters!

Our land is unique and special
from where the world has learnt
the importance of being inclusive
for in India we truly believe
in ‘Sarve bhavantu sukhinah
Sarve Santu Niramayah’1
and in ‘Atithi debo bhavah’!2

Let us salute our soldiers
martyred and living
selflessly sacrificing
thanks to whom year after year
we live here to say
Happy Independence Day!

Note:

Meaning of the slokas

1 May all be happy and healthy

May all be free from diseases

May no one suffer in anyway

2 Guests are Gods and Goddesses in disguise

The parrot

I glanced at the parrot
perched on the top of a tree
chirping away, to me
it sounded like ‘change’, ‘change’
strange, because at other times
I hear just a simple ‘hey’!

I hear a cow moo
a dog woof
a kitten mew
all in chorus singing
in my ears
telling me the days are few
fleeting away in years
I need to move
begin anew.

Did I want to hear this
from all of them?
Else how are they all
speaking the same
language!
In different tongues
telling me past is behind
it could be unfair, unkind
but it’s over for good and far too done;
to be back now, in the winsome game
I need to shift, I need to change!

Suddenly I hear their ‘hi there’ again
up and about now, I seem to be free
from this notorious invisible chain
like a parrot in a cage trying in vain
to break free and relearn the art
to speak its mind, to talk from the heart
suddenly these callings help me regain
myself, I enjoy the light breathing fresh air
I’m back on track, present and fair
like the grinning parrot perched,
on the top of a tree!

Every single day

Every morn baptizes me

with dewdrops

every daybreak

as far as I can see

be-sprinkles me

recharges me with care and concern

through the rays of the soft sun.

Everyday has a new dawn

every single day I am reborn.

Every morn fills my heart

with the mantra

of the chirping wings

every daybreak

purifies my ears

as I hear the rivers

chant and sing.

Everyday has a new dawn

every single day I am reborn.

The whole world is a place

whom I worship and pray

as I wander here with grace

rebirth on earth happens;

in wonder I live in it
with every little beat,

every single day.

Everyday has a new dawn

every single day I am reborn.

Engaging game

I have nothing more to take

not anything, from anyone,

I have opened with care, the deadly door.

At ease and wide, I won it here now,

by giving more and more.

A light came to me for my own little sake

showed me the way, told me how

I can make it work without being a fake.

With it I was playing hide and seek

I was trying all my wild antics

it hugged me all over, pumped up my heart

ran into my ears and said, I can also restart

working, enjoying every moment

sharing, learning from my environment;

that no to expectations, yes to acceptance

is the key to hidden happiness.

O this is such a tough exercise

from childhood I learnt

to expect, as a matter of right

but I will try, I will rise

like the stars and the flowing rivers

every part of the surrounding nature

this nature to give is in me for sure

it’s buried inside me, under years of the yore.

I will uncover my true self

learning from the teacher, without any pelf

like the lovely light, angelic air, winsome water

energizing earth, enriching us for thousands of years

I am here too only to give

diseases will wither, with all their dotty grieves

bliss will surface, miseries leave

for as long as I breathe, as long as I live.

Let me try this over and over again

the light’s there with me in this engaging game.

Deconstruction

What if my lines
could lie
on the borders
where men, women in uniform
standing awake as a norm
awaiting orders
to shoot and kill
would my lines heal?

What if my lines
my humblest of thoughts
travel in the minds of leaders
and make them see
in a moment of ecstasy
the inane insanity
of using weapons
on living beings!

What if my lines
went straight into the hearts
of millions
and with them traveled into
the lexicon
shifted the old definition
of soldiers fighting
with soldiers with weapons
what if it meant
not dying for the country
but living for it
safeguarding, protecting
nature
working in tandem with each other?

It will not happen.
It will not happen.
I am attached to a sentiment
I am full of ego
that’s why ‘what if my lines’
appears before everything else;
it’s also a race without kindness or grace
I am unable to mellow
down, for I want to wear the
charming crown.

Am I then warring with other lines
worrying too much on how they write
do I then use my writing as a weapon
if I do, I cannot see a weaponless world.
As long as I fight for my written words
my heavy wings cannot lift the bard
for the sake of what I said before
let ego not remain in me anymore.

Not because of what I write,
but standing for
what is true and really right
let the leaders use the soldiers
not to kill other brothers and sisters
but to heal the world and the bountiful nature.

I never looked at me
sitting with an invisible weapon,
writing for the sake of
winning a competition!
It’s the same power craving for attention.
I redefine the soldier lying in me
now writing only to enjoy and learn,
to be at ease, to set me free.

The purpose

For as long as I live
I will write my lines
on what I believe
as true
for me, if not for you.
I will work on them, refine
them afresh, anew
on those patient leaves
my tears will fall like the dew
smiles will paint in various rainbow hues
my thoughts will rise and fall in horizon
lie on the space
with charm and grace
they will chatter and blather
babble and jabber
on those tolerant pages;
with them
my thoughts will talk non-stop
from nineteen to the dozen.

Unread

Each leaf that falls,
on which I write

is a story in itself;

from the way it stands

on the ground
wanders around

you could tell,

if it's heavy with words

or simply light and sound,
if it has failed

going to heaven

through hell.

Each leaf that falls
on which I write

has a story to tell;

it's falling on the stage

like a tired footfall

sitting underneath a tree

a passerby who
in between taking rest
held the fleeting leaf

with the hands
covering the face
with kindness or rage
so one could feel

the leaf
its unsung agony;

but you overlook it all

over it you write your own

stories, with an impending tone

it absorbs your lines
lies
on the bed

brown and unread.

Their game

Mind, meandering

with the moon,
in a rainy afternoon.
Both unheard, unseen
wet within the scene.

‘I love you’… a tune all of a sudden
in a low voice, almost hidden
disappeared, dearly drained
‘please don’t come out in the sun
we are condemned in the dark
until we witness night to be fun
sky’s beating the old drum, hark!’

‘Oh don’t go! Don’t go!
I have scores of chores to do,
mind doesn’t listen to me you know
there they’re out again now?
Their game begins anew.’

The invincible

Since long those people
have become invisible
they left the orbit
long ago, but it’s the habit
that still wages war
against them
creates a mayhem
inside, still-born thoughts
burn to be born
make me forlorn
hatred and anger
bread and butter
energizes the Scar
that blocks and blots
the invisible people
remain and ruin
they become invincible.

Since long those people
have gone
they won
I lost, I accept defeat
from then on
light on my feet
I rise above the ground
Stars in me
heal the scars
harmoniously glow
all there is becomes a bliss
because I let them go.

I bless those friends
let them win, I make amends
I let them grow, my journey begins
as light as it should
those stubborn people
leave me for real
leave me for good.