Race... towards new light

Reaching for the stars

Hands ache, toes sore

Eyes burn with unshed tears

of disappointments galore

Consequences of decisions

made in imprudent haste

Tormenting the helpless mind

Reflecting years led in waste

All this reckless race

Seemingly towards prosperity

To satisfy needs or is it wants?

Who stopped to think of the disparity?

Cannot remember the roads tread

Wonder what mysteries detours held

What was left behind? What lies ahead?

At this crossroad, the whole being tired

Somewhere in between lies forgotten

The worth of self, teachings of life

wealth of experiences, of strife

The race goes on, it has to be run

With a perspective to reach the sun

Precious Nothings!

Morning dew on the lush green grass

Sight of seagulls as they fly across

First rays of light on the horizon

Scent of earth during the first rain

New borns of nature in early spring

Sound of cuckoos when they sing

Enchanting colours of the late fall

Magical sight of a dense snowfall

Silvery sky on a full moon night

Sparkling stars of new moon night

Lightning etched against starless sky

Clouds shifting on a dark stormy night

Cool salty breeze at the sea shore

Waves hitting rocks and the encore

Snowcapped mountains reflected on lakes

Wild flowers peeping out of large meadows

Wind in the hair when parasailing

Smell of an incense when burning

Silence reigning in the deep valleys

Aroma of coffee when it brews

They are imprinted on my mind

Making an impact so profound

Nature and senses joining hands

To build a treasury of precious nothings

The Old Bridge...

I stand sturdy, across the river
Watching generations cross over
The old, the young, all shades of life
I observe, as they tread on my wooden self

On every face is etched a story different
Every step reveals the walker's thought
The few steps of their lives shared with me
Enrich my existence, they help me be

Phases of life is like water flowing under me
Sometimes calm and sometimes like the rough sea
Ever gushing, always rejuvenated by new and pure
Finding ways to bend across obstacles for sure

Centuries have passed, I stand proudly still
Testimony to all actions of human will
Waves of changes lapping against my mortar
Histories were created, I hold my corner

The good, the bad, I have seen them all
I have witnessed many a mighty fall
One day I will too, will just be a ruin
But I lived serving humanity, that is my boon

The Homeless of Piccadilly Gardens

His coat spread on the ground
His dog curled up at his feet
Guitar case open facing the crowd
The gentleman had his stage set

Strumming the guitar with a far off look
He delved into melodies that suddenly took
The listeners into his own world unknown
Painted pictures myriad as by only him seen

His sorrows, his pain, the love he lost
His rise, his fall and experiences that cost
A life that was once his, full to the brim
With joy and warmth and lived by a zesty him

His songs filled the gardens, all others mute
Time stood still and only the vibrating notes
Moved all present as one, a tale so familiar
Of things seen, heard and hoped for better

Here he was, alone but not lonely
His faithful dog, his only company
The Guitar case now filled with money
Amidst a crowd with feelings one too many

For his songs had touched every heart present
The melody brought forth by his sorrow inherent
Had awoken the compassion within every being
Sowing thought, being human is the only way of living

Rise again

Don't mistake me for I am still a proud Indian
Writing this has been a task so gargantuan
As Every little thing I cherish about my country
Has been brought to vile and left high and dry

The land of Chanakya, the great political genius
In political disarray, courtesy khadi clad hypocrites
Nalanda and Takshashila, the ancient temples of learning
Education today is a business, a venture in money-making

The land of riches, plundered repeatedly by foreign kings
We try in vain now to raise poverty line by inches
Six decades of independence, a gift of great sacrifices
The struggle continues, still for basic rights and amenities

In the age of supercomputers and space travel
In Religious fanaticism, casteism, superstition we grovel
For centuries we have bowed to our godesses by the dozen
And yet the birth of a girl is still not worth a celebration

Our culture, heritage and vast wealth of knowledge
Is mostly food for the power hungry in political pledge
We dare to dream, we achieve lofty goals, the youth of today
Have we that pride held so dear by old blood of yesterday

Do I stop and ponder if I can change some things?
Do I make an effort to bring about some difference?
No, not much I know, I am still clinging to misgivings
But get my hands dirty, I will, for it is a worthy penance.

Delightful Walk

I walked on the sunny way

Lined by daffodils in mid may

Along the lake beneath the cloudless sky

Pushed by the cool breeze watching birds fly

I walked alone watching young leaves sway

Sunlight seeping through and ripples play

Arching and bending the path went on

Leading to meet the far away horizon

where sun beckoned beyond the mountains

Luring me past the vast green plains

On I trod breathing the smell of fresh grass

Amidst grazing cattle and skirting moss

Bunnies hopping along, a merry company

Benevolent spring, its gifts far too many

I hiked on losing myself in enchantment

Cast by nature, so great its allurement

I turned back deep in trance

Feeling within the rise of a dance

Of emotions unknown until the rendezvous

In solitude, with everything pure and true

I became a believer in the unparalled power

In the divinity of this great treasure

Nature's influence on man so naive

Yes, this mystical force keeps me alive

Spoils of a battle

Trashing around in the rough ocean hanging on to dear life

Breathing in salty spray desperation to win the soulful strife

Scanning the far off skies looking for a beacon of hope

For deliverance from agony as strength fails to cope

With blows dealt by gales of uncertainty and travesty

Of emotions within, conflicts without and facade of false gaiety

The mind is tired and demeanor cold, how long can one endure

Constant drivel of the pompous, a storm pretending to be demure

Thunders of the immoral, the liars lightning ready to gore

Struggle for survival, crying for comfort with a throat so sore

Eyes glued to the horizon seeking the ark from the soul's core

That would brave the water, the weather and reach the calm shore

Abilities blunt, surging tides of will ebb, choices rendered inconsequential

Man's insensitivity, greed and unreasonable ambition how does one quell

Live and let live, this adage no more the order of the day

Whirlpool of avarice consuming every weak soul on its way

Leaving behind a debris of broken hearts that never will mend

Wounded, I watch, man's race for power difficult to comprehend

Can I go back?

Oh! can I go back, can I go there again
To that time, treading backwards in memory lane
When there was no leash on my spirits
Uninhibited I dwelt on my dreams and wishes

I walked barefoot on the dewy grass
Feeling the caress of the droplets and blades
Thoughts of bugs and dirt never crossing my brain
Oh! can I go back, can I go there again

I reminisce the feel of first drops on the face
The smell of the mud, surroundings in a haze
Jumping in the puddle without a care in the rain
Oh! can I go back, can I go there again

I strolled by the sea shore out-running the wavelets
Chasing the tiny crabs, looking for the conches
Lazing on the beach building castles of sand grain
Oh! can I go back, can I go there again

Treading to school in uniform and shined shoes
Endless classes and the much awaited lunch breaks
Games and exams, each inflicting an enjoyable pain
Oh! can I go back, can I go there again

The home I adore was livened by sister's chattering
Mother's loving care and father's stern discipline
Our dog was the prince and cat reigned as the queen
Oh! can I go back, can I go there again

I yearn for those times, I long to re-live
I dream of yesterday, great joy they give
I desire to merge with memories, there my heart is lain
Oh! can I go back, can I go there again

Ode to Sachin Tendulkar

Of film stars, I have never been a fan

Models? I don't really give a damn

Saints, I like them in their heaven

Sportsperson? Yes, it's Sachin Tendulkar

And I have lived watching this little master

I was a kid and so was he

Very soon the world would see

His growth from a mere boy to a man of might

From his blade came forth many a glorious sight

I lived, mesmerized, watching him shine in the limelight

His prayers to heaven as he walks in to bat

Examining the pitch, gently giving it a pat

The fire in the eyes, the biting of the nails

His dedication and the child like enthusiasm

I lived, in love, watching his every little mannerism

'He plays like me' said Sir Don Bradman

Warne said, 'In my nightmares Sachin's the man'

A frenzied nation, cricket the religion, God this man

The country's victory dependent on his game

I lived, ecstatic, watching him rise to great fame

His shoulders for a decade carried the burden

On his small frame, hope of the people laden

His back went out, his elbow followed

The weight of expectations, too much of a strain

I lived, anxiously, watching him fight his pain

Two decades gone, he is still very much there

The oldest in the team, experience lots to share

These days his inclusion almost always a doubt

Soon the curtains may fall on the genius' game

I live, knowing, that moment my heart will maim.

Evening Enlightenment

Sitting atop the roof of the penthouse

I take a glance at the sights around me

Waiting for the sunset, tickled by the breeze

Birds flying home to nestle in their tree

The vastness of sea, the expanse of the sky

Both seemingly meet at the distant horizon

Providing a canvas for the sun and the clouds

To paint a picture that stole all my attention

Caught in the moment, I did stare and gaze

And marvelled at this colourful maze

The shifting clouds, the rays of the sun

The water, the wind, having one last fun

The exhibition ended, the night set in

The sky was dark, but stars sparkling

The ships outlined against the dark water

Quiet settling in, the need of the hour

Enlightened, I walked back into the house

My disquiet of the day being doused

If tomorrow be another troubled day

To the roof I make my way

Peace within

I close my eyes deep in thought

Wondering about the peace I sought
When suddenly, I was wandering free
And standing under this blossomed tree
The flowers so heavenly and baby pink in hue
And it's fragrance the gentle wind blew
Ensnaring my senses and ensconcing my mind
Transporting me into blissful solitude beyond
The reach of my desire and the reach of greed
The truth dawned on me, the one sought by my creed
The peace I seek is buried deep within me
And if I so will, the mind will set it free

And so it begins...

Picking up the pen, or rather, typing something other than stupid code full of bugs or a silly grocery list was the hardest thing that I have had to do till date. Well, not really. Getting married was the hardest. I have been thinking about writing for a long time now and suddenly, actually two days ago I realised that I was not thinking of acting on this thought. Some wise man once said actions speak louder than words. So here I am, using words to show that I'm finally acting on writing my thoughts, enclosing them withing the boundaries of a page, giving some semblance to an otherwise invisible entity. 

I believe I should begin by thanking the forces that helped me pick up the pen. Vikram. My brother. I admire his writing, his ability to become one with the subject and the honesty that comes forth in his writings. Admiration turned to adulation and now I am a fan trying to emulate him. Then there is Rithish, Vikram's friend or should I say his 'Blog brother'. I am a keen follower of his articles and it's amazing how he puts an interesting spin even on the most mundane activities he sees around him. Last, but not the least, there is Akshay. Another brother of mine. I wrote a testimonial for him on Orkut and guess what? He liked it and his reaction kind of slapped awake the hope of writing and I suffered a testimonial writing frenzy for quite sometime. These are the people who have inspired me and if I can continue to churn out something half as decent and interesting as theirs, I'll forever be grateful to them. Having finished with the thanks giving formality, I must state, and emphatically too, that if you find my writing intolerable, offensive, annoying or just plain torture, you now know the three who are to be blamed. 

Phew!!! Two paragraphs. Not a bad start I guess. I was scared that I would hit a writers(can I call myself that at this stage?) block even before I started. I seem to have survived the initial shaking of fingers, biting of the nails and scratching of the head. I agree I had to stop short of screaming out aloud for the lack of a topic or subject to massacre on paper (textpad actually) but, this was mostly due to the fear of being kicked out of the rental apartment on charges of excessive noise and causing disturbance to neighbours. Writing about absolutely nothing has been fun today. I'll try my hand at a genuine subject sometime soon. Until then, I'll just wait for 

my finger nails to grow back to their normal length and dream about qualifying as a (dare I say it?) writer.