Identity Introspection

Living a lie

2011-11-24T23:28:00.000+05:30

When voices can’t be trusted

and the smiles are just a lie,

When ears turn deaf and

the heart is left alone to cry.

When promises are broken and

the world around seems to crumble,

Words appear inadequate

and the mind begins to fail.

When loneliness is your only company

Amidst all the friends, and,

the person(s) you love and hate the most

is no different but the same.

When memories are all you have left

and life begins to stagnate

When dreams and nightmares are the same

and insomnia appears desirable

When you begin to enjoy the sadness

and derive pleasure by hurting

When melancholy appears crowded and

crowds appear lonely.

When every pretty girl reminds you

of what you lost years back.

and you still desire the same lap

to stare into that pure and serene face

You know the time has come

When all you do is, sigh

its time to get a life

and stop living a lie.

---Sriram

The Serial Killer(s)

2011-11-09T09:26:00.000+05:30

She couldn’t move much but felt almost every heart beat around her. She didn’t have anyone to talk to and was all alone in a dark place unable to see anything at all. All she could hear was some horrifying talks. She was scared but there was no one to comfort her. She wondered what harm she could possibly do to people who wanted to end her. She lay there gloomy and wondering if she will ever see the light of the day. She was barely fed and grew weaker by days.

Very often she could hear some noise unable to make anything out of it. Like a helpless being, she just waited for the moment. She had no to call for help, for no one but only the killers knew about her existence. She was just an unknown soul with no place to hide and run and didn’t understand why she was in the captivity of those merciless serial killers. And one fine day, suddenly everything around her began to heat up. And even before she realized, she was reduced to a piece of medical waste. One of the killers showed some superficial remorse in the camouflage of maternal emotions but deep down both had a sigh of relief.

And the world didn’t even miss a soul. Or, did it?

ख़्वाबों के परिंदे

2011-10-23T13:53:00.000+05:30

दिल में है एक अरमान

कुछ ख्वाब और कुछ सपने

कुछ कर दिखाने का एक जूनून

मगर दूर हूँ उनसे जो है अपने

दिन के उजाले में भी देखता हूँ एक सपना

रात की तन्हाई में भी करीब है वो अरमान

मगर इस ख़्वाबों की दौड़ में

छूट रहे है कुछ पल ज़िन्दगी के

डर लगता है उन गहरी रातों से

मगर हौसला ना हारूँगा कुछ ठोकरों से

उम्मीद कायम है एक नए दिन की

कभी तो छटेंगे ये काले बादल भी

सोचता हूँ कभी मैं भी उर पाउँगा

आसमान के पार चला जाऊँगा

देख सकूँगा परिंदों को अपने नीचे

सूरज से भी आँखे मिला पाउँगा

फिर भी एक सवाल उठता है जेहन में

क्या मंजिल तक पहुचना ही सब कुछ है

या फिर उन रास्तो में जिन पर हम चलते है

या उन छोटे छोटे पलों में

जो हमें ज़िन्दगी का एहसास दिलाते है

जो हमें जिंदा महसूस कराते है

--- श्रीराम

Random Ramblings

2011-10-15T01:10:00.002+05:30

It has been a long time I posted something here. I guess there hasn’t been any recent heartbreaks which could push me into my melancholy and surprisingly the area where I stay doesn’t seem to be blessed with any pretty faces either which could bring up the lost romance. After all one does need some kind of inspiration and a push to be able to carve a way out of the writer’s block. All I get to see or feel when I come out of my room is huge amount of dust Gurgaon has to offer. And I didn’t really want to be another blogger criticising the mismanagement of the city or lamenting the ridiculous extravaganza Mayawati indulges in while hundreds of kids die of a disease. I do not want to throw in statistical bullets on the government for its lackadaisical approach towards almost everything going on. I think Mr Rajdeep Sardesai is enough for all that. And I certainly do not want to step into the big shoes of Karan Thapar who ends up speaking for almost two third of the total time when he supposedly there to interview people. And even if I want to, well the fact is, they would probably not even allow me in their premises. So, let me not get too cocky for my own sake.

I tried completing a half written piece of poetry which I once scribbled after I saw a beautiful picture of a dear friend of mine. But, the mood just didn’t set in. So let me just share the 4 lines I did come up with at that moment.

“She sat there in a silence,

her eyes deep and moist.

As her hair fell down her serene look

She held both her melancholy and the turbulence”

Somehow, I have come to realize that it is insanely difficult to complete a piece which is left incomplete. The original mood and the atmosphere are just so difficult to be recreated. There is another incomplete one which doesn’t seem to be nearing its meaningful destiny. So I guess I will just share this one too.

“Just when I had turned sober

Thinking it might be finally over

In a flash it appeared once again

bringing out the long hidden pain.”

I think it wasn’t too much and over the board when I once remarked to a friend. “Do not look into my mind. You will lose your way in its complexity. Look into my heart; you might just want to live their forever.” At the risk of sounding cheesy and melodramatic, I somewhere can’t agree to disagree from this thought.

Changing the subject, last night I did come up with a thought to scribble on. I was going through my contact details on Yahoomail and came across some really funny, weird, alien, rebellious and innovative Email ids. I could stop laughing at some of those. Some were rock stars while others where heart throbs for some I even had to look up to the dictionary to decipher the meaning. I know what you must be thinking. Of all the people, how could someone who was specifically pointed out by the Placement committee and the interview board to change his email id talk about this. For all that matters he was even notoriously facilitated for the same by popular measure. Well, this is why I didn’t write a dedicated post on this. I didn’t want to give a dear friend of mine another chance to call me a “hypocrite”. :)

For now, I will cherish a onetime memory of having watched a movie alone in a theatre. And by alone, I mean, all alone in an empty theatre. And FYI, it wasn’t some shady movie. The Three Musketeers didn’t seem to be such a bad option either.

---Sriram

When Insomnia appears beautiful

2011-09-05T22:11:00.003+05:30

As the life begins to lose its motion

I am stuck in the myriad of thoughts.

When the reality fades into oblivion

Only dried leaves welcome the springs.

When it is easy to look the other way

Or to not look at all

For the journey is often exhausting

And the truth is nothing but bitter.

When the nights and the days seem alike

Eclipsed by the shadows of past and future

Suddenly, the chaos seems to be

more comforting and desirable.

Just when I feel in control

The moment arrives

When it all starts to slips away,

Dropping me into the sands of time.

Day after day as the weeks pass by

I hang on to whatever I can

For when dreams turn out to be a nightmare

Even insomnia appears beautiful.

---Sriram

Dear Sis

2011-08-14T08:25:00.001+05:30

There are relations of blood and then there are those of matrimony. There are relations of romance and then there are those of friendship. For each of them we have probably a long list of festivals and associated traditions and rituals. Each comes with a certain degree of rigidity and unnecessary expectations at some level. And then there is a relationship which exists at two levels; both social and natural. Among the hundreds of festivals, this is the one free from most mythological stories and gender biased rituals. This is one day when the males of the society, for a change, promise something to the females and I would believe they mean it. This is one day which promises purity of relationships in the world where this word itself is rapidly changing its meaning at a very existential level. This is a reason for one of the strongest bond between two people who often fight each other as much they love.

Growing up in a joint family, I was blessed with 3 elder sisters who still love me like a baby brother. They are the ones who still find me more capable and believe in me more than I myself could. They are the ones who still love me and scold me, irrespective of how old I am. Back then it was just about exchanging gifts and having good food on the rakshabandhan day, but I could realize the more important things only late growing up and missing them every single year.

I still remember those times in school when every year, guys used to literally run away from the class during the recess fearing that they might be forced into the brotherhood. It was weird funny and strange at the same time. There was always one guy in class who would have had alteast 10 rakhi sis in class and a bunch of others who made sure they got only friendship bands a week earlier on the friendship day! Sometimes it seemed fun while at times it did look ridiculous. At the risk of being hated, the fact is a friendship or an amorous relationship might be temporary, but not the one which symbolises the most delicate and purest relationship, man has ever known.

I never thought when my childhood friend (Shivani) tied rakhi around my wrist way back in 2001 that our bond will only grow stronger. But today, I am a proud brother and consider myself lucky to have her in my life. She is someone who has always stood by me in the best and worst of times. We may not talk for weeks together, but whenever we do, it just feels like we were never away. But, while I was coming back to my place after meeting for such a long time, my mind was perplexed as usual. I was happy and yet some thoughts kept coming to me. It would however be unfair to those who have loved me no less than any sister could possibly. It would be unfair to someone who has always treated me like a brother and a great friend as well, even though we may not be biologically related. But who can possibly stop the tide of thoughts which come and take you unaware.

I have always wondered if only I had a younger sister of my own, how it would have been. May be I would have been the usual possessive brother who would have irritated her to the limits or maybe I would have been her best friend. May be she would have kept all her secrets away from me or maybe we would have shared every single thing happening in our lives. May be I wound have been conservative and hypocritical when it came to her or maybe we would have been each other’s biggest strength. May be I would have been jealous of my dad loving her more than me or maybe I would have loved her more than anyone possibly could. I don’t know. Life would certainly have been very different. But, then there are times when that void seems to make its presence feel. And it gets more and more visible whenever I see two siblings fighting like cats and dogs and then again fighting for each other against the world. I guess it is just natural and inevitable to feel this way.

Sriram

I see you

2011-07-06T18:05:00.001+05:30

Every time I see you

I find a reason to smile

Every moment that I miss you

I still walk that mile.

Every time it rains and the cloud thunder

I can feel my “heart” ponder

You call it love; you call it imagination

I still see you mesmerized; in all the admiration.

I may not be a romantic

I may not be a star

But, as I look up, standing in the attic

I still see you like the way I want you to.

And yet, I wonder when days turn into nights

What if,

I hadn’t lost my sight

Could I ever, have seen you at all?

(In honour of all those people who still find life beautiful even when they can’t see and to remind the lucky ones how beautiful life is only if you could open your eyes to the beauty around.)

---Sriram

We- D poor people of the Corporate World

2011-05-18T13:27:00.003+05:30

A few days back, while I was talking to a friend of mine, we actually ended up talking some real stuff after we were done with our weekly updates of the gossips and usual inconsequential conversations. It has been quite some time I left my job and partially joined my business apart from a little academic pursuit along the way. But I still do remember my first few conversations in my hometown with a plethora of acquaintances and total strangers who often enquired about my job for a number of reasons both genuine and devious. Well more about their intentions and ingenuity sometime later.

Statements, such as, “A man is worth only his pay check” is nothing new. It has been actively been the epicentre of a lot of decisions people make right from choosing or leaving a job, venturing into business and even while choosing their partners. But what makes it a topic to talk about is how the conversation folds up in a usual middle class family in a rural or a semi urban setting and occasionally even in the urban settings. Probably, it would be a lot easier to go by classification of the mindset, attitude and mental horizon of the people than a geographical distinction. As I write this, I get a feeling that I should have written this at least 10 months back. It would have been much more recent and relevant then. However, in those days, I was way too occupied handling my crushes and one sided affairs. :D Damn. I can be hard on myself sometimes! But still I will write it now. (Will try to keep my ramblings short enough)

For the time being, let me go back to July’2010 for ease of including myself in the collective group with whom I still can connect and feel the emotional turmoil and so that I can take the liberty to write in the present tense. I call myself and all my bunch of friends who completed MBA last year as the “Poor people of the corporate world.” It is not just because most of us do not pay tax @ 30%. But also because we face the entire hardships one could in this mean selfish world where people climb up the ladders of success on the corpses of others. Well, fortunately, as of now we aren’t really the corpse, so no need to panic. But we are damn well poor.

We are made to slog for long hours and our skill sets are exploited to the extreme. And in return all we get is a salary which gets exhausted in no time. We can’t even afford a simple furnished 2BHK in a decent area like Bandra or its counterparts in other cities. And if we dare to do, we end up losing more than 33% of what we get as underpaid people. I still can’t afford a car. Who would pay my EMIs and the parking charge? (Delhites are lucky here. They park it on the road itself! ). I am forced to be crushed in the maddening crowd of the locals with all kinds of people (who stink) and the unbridled homosexuals with their new found freedom. (No offence to any of them. I sincerely respect your choice, but strictly abhor any non consensual act of seeking pleasure taking undue advantage of the crowd.) I say this because some of my poor, innocent friends were taken for a ride. (Again delhites are lucky to have a metro equipped with an A/c!!!). I won’t even get to the chances of having your dream girl with this kind of poverty. To add to it, when we go home, the people (acquaintance and the strangers) give a damn about your work quality. In some cases they do not even know the name of the company or the designation and work profile. (If you do not believe, try becoming an Insurance Broker in an MNC: P ) So much for running after a particular kind of profile! What hurts even more is, we wasted our precious time trying to understand the intricacies of corporate finance, derivatives and corporate strategy. I could have very well spent that sitting on the marine drive or riding in Leh and Laddhak. (Do not know much about the marketing people. They certainly had a relatively better life. Atleast my roomie never had to go through a 200 page book.) And this doesn’t end here. Some of my friends continue to inflict pain upon them by sacrificing that little hard earned money for another degree, innocently believing that it would make their life any easier. And here I am, pouring out all my blocked emotions here while I try to chase my own set of dreams by putting a complete end to even that small amount I used to get on every 26^th of the month. True. Poverty and Unemployment are a part of a vicious circle and they take away all the wits you initially had.

P.S.: No offence to anyone! It was a fictional narration. Any resemblance to anyone living is purely coincidental and unintentional ;)

We all are very happy people J

The Balcony Cricket !

2011-04-11T18:58:00.001+05:30

Monday is most often the most difficult day to do anything, be it work or study. To add to it, a relatively pleasant summer evening is just not worth to be wasted on something boring and serious. So, as an addictive observer, I was as usual gazing outside my window. If I would have been in my hometown, I would have probably got a view of the entire sky, clouds, birds and even the dusty roads. But, when you are in a city, all you get to see from the ground floor is the balcony(s) of the opposite building. And, honestly, it isn’t that bad, for on lucky days, you get to see some really beautiful girls in their hot pants! But today wasn’t one of those days. All I could see was a bunch of over enthusiastic kids playing “Balcony Cricket.”

Well, I am not sure if there is such a term, but basically we all have played it without a doubt. It is probably a very prevalent form of cricket which you play incase you do not have access to a playground or, when you are domesticated on a hot summer afternoon, or when the parents are too protective to let you go wander with the not so polite older kids of the colony who have their areas demarcated.

But do not be under an impression of this being a simplified form of cricket. It is not. Rather, if I recall correctly, there is an entire set of exotic rules and regulations governing the game and on some days it garners so much of enthusiasm that the only way the game ends is when you lose all your Cosco/Plastic balls or end up breaking some window panes and then being punished.

The charm of batting first is inherent in us, be it the Team India or the kids in colony. But to decide the order we had devised our own ways. The kinds in the balcony here played a round of Rock, Paper& Scissor to come to a conclusion. And of course, hitting a window or losing the ball was always considered ”out” and so was hitting the ball on the roadside, if you are playing on the terrace. The worst was one tip one hand where I used to disappoint myself every time. But then, being a pathetic bowler as well, i got quite a lot of wickets as the kid on the other end could never not end up hitting a six.(Which invariably landed on the window panes or the roadside :P ). Needless to say that the one who owned the bat did exercise some special privileges. It used to be a game open to all ages though we did discriminate on the basis of gender and there used to be a strict “no entry” for girls. After all who wanted trouble if they get hit and start shedding bucket full of tears. However as we grew a little smarter, they were always welcome in host of other sports. All said and done, it always was a time of fun during those summer vacations, except for times when everyone used to fight like cats and dogs and then not talk for atleast a day or two. While I was drifting among those days, I heard this strong appeal for LBW across the window. And I though, we certainly didn’t appeal LBW in our times. Probably, they want to keep it more real and entertaining !!!

The Burning Coal

2011-04-05T23:07:00.001+05:30

As the sun set across the horizon

And the sky grew darker

I was stunned by something so beautiful

Wondering if it was just an illusion.

Looking at those unrestrained laughter

And the hair gently blow across her face

I floated in my own dream world

And feel my heart race.

I tried but my voice choked

Helpless I was, amidst the minty smoke

I gazed at her as she spoke

With every possible movement of her hands.

I wanted to bend on my knees

But all I did was to eat that cheese

In those few moments all my senses got mixed

As I smelled her smile and saw her fragrance.

I looked up at the glowing moon

And suddenly it felt as if,

that moment would pass away too soon

While the icy breeze brought her closer

The burning coal made it all so warm.

---Sriram

Anonymity

2011-03-16T22:08:00.002+05:30

He sat in his room all day long

Amidst the scattered pages and his books

Always listening to that same old song

He cared neither about the world nor his looks.

Woke up with the first beam of the sunlight

Every single day, challenging his own might

Never had anyone, had the courage to step in there

Neither did someone ever, even thought to care

Kids of the colony were scared to death

With stories about his lost might and wealth

For those who had tried to get inside

said, “It is like going to a dark hill side”

He never came out of the room

Be there a flood or a doom

He kept talking to someone unknown

Nobody knew who that soul was

And one morning, as the sun rose

Everything happened the way it always did

Yet, something was different, something missing

Still I could not figure out a thing.

Years later, as I passed by those lanes

A sudden jolt of curiosity engulfed me

I somehow wanted to know about that old man,

Though no one really seemed to know

Looking for some solace, I strolled in the cemetery

Reading the random names, who once, lived.

In a corner, it stood distinct from all others

For it had no name engraved, nor any dried flowers.

Probably, the old man passed away alone

With no one to hold his hands as his heart gave in

No one would ever know who he used to be

No names, no story, and absolutely no legacy.

Neither was I a consanguine nor an affine

Yet drowned in melancholy and yet something divine,

I sat there silently in the grave of anonymity

Trying to fathom life and its (lost) dignity.

---Sriram

Reminiscing with Water Balloons

2011-03-12T13:55:00.000+05:30

Today, as I was walking back to my room, I got hit. And not once or twice, but it felt like there was an entire platoon of army kids waiting for the vulnerable, unarmed and unguarded people like me who walk lost in their own thoughts unaware of the surroundings. And it was only after the almost after being hit almost 5 to 6 times totally drenched and yes in a little pain as well, that I realized that Holi is just round the corner. For all those who have not really experienced it, please do not be fooled by the size of the balloons which appear to be small and harmless. Even the kids throwing them are small and mostly cute little Punjabis. But the balloons and the kids happen to be way too smart and certainly not harmless. I literally ran, saving myself from the other planned attacks and everytime they missed, I was so damn elated. After all I still could manoeuvre and save myself from those little goons. J

As I reached my flat safe and sound, I couldn’t help but remember those graduation days. As a matter of fact, it is not the kids alone who are into this tactical balloon game. Even the adults enjoy it as much as these kids, only under the camouflage of those innocent faces of their kids. The 3 lovely kids, staying right opposite to me are a little lazier than the others. They do not take the pains of filling in the balloons and so use a Pichkari instead. After all its much more efficient when it comes to wetting people. And surprisingly, they have a strict code of conduct as well! I heard the eldest among them scolding his younger brother when he tried to wet a man on the scooter. The only ones they target are the people on foot or on rickshaw for they are safe.

I couldn’t help but smile, for we had our own code of conduct. No balloons to be wasted on Men. Not even a single one. I was a blessed soul to have a flat, 3 sides of which had girls hostel. And I need not say anything about the DU girls for it would take me away into some dreamland... Almost 10 days before the real Holi, a lot of us used to gather at my or friends place with hundred of balloons. Those with not so good target practise were made to fill them while rest of us had one sole objective. To wet as many beautiful hostel girls as we could! Hitting men and those on vehicles was a strictly prohibited. And just like all the platoons needed a safeguard as well, we too had ours. After all, none of us want to be caught by the Delhi Police. So there stood 2 female friends for no one really bothered to complain when they look at girls standing and laughing on the top floor with balloons in their hands. And the best part was, the girls rarely used to mind, except a few weird ones who always had a reason to crib and complain. After all they never spared us when we strolled down their hostel. And we never complained either. J I guess, some things never do change.

---Sriram

International Women's Day: A day alone isn't enough

2011-03-08T13:48:00.000+05:30

SIGMUND FREUD once remarked, “The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is “What does a woman want?”

Probably, if only Mr. Freud would have been born a century later in the era where, radical feminism of all kinds seem to have been growing and setting in the internalized character of women, he would not have had to remain in this unsolved mystery and the pandemonium surrounding the enigmatic nature of women won’t have existed to that intensity. Of course the enigma as propagated by the literature and mass media will continue to exist for it has its own capitalistic manifestations in helping the bourgeoisie. And so would for those who claim to be treating depression among the so called poor innocent male members of the society caused by the so called shrewd, self serving female members. Pardon my generalization, for I too stand firmly against it, but at times I take a little liberty to be a hypocrite. After all it’s still a debate whether it is a virtue or a vice. More on that later.

Now, the reason I quoted Sigmund Freud apart from the fact that he is one of the most amazing thinkers, I know a little about, today happens to be International Women’s day. Call it a manifestation of patriarchy, self defence mechanism with a flavour of my ignorance, the first thing I did was to Google. I wanted to know, if there’s an International Men’s day as well. To my pleasant surprise, it does exist. If I recall, it is 19^th November.

Now, ignoring the reason for the initiation to have such a day, which is somewhere related to all the socialist movements and the revolutions in the Western Europe, I rather pondered about its relevance and affectivity. Is it relevant? Yes, it is. Is it effective in terms of serving the intended purpose? I am not sure.

Talking about the effectiveness of this day, there are certainly some beneficiaries. One of them without a doubt is the bourgeoisie, who always stand to gain with commercialization of any kind of feelings or for that matter even a possible movement.

I am not very well versed with the affairs all around the world so would abstain to venture in that. However, taking about the Indian scenario, it certainly is very much in need and relevant. And I am not just thinking about the general oppression of the incapacitated rural women and the hardships they suffer ranging from violence to exclusion. Neither am I, focussing on the urban sophisticated women who are busy climbing the corporate ladder on one hand and still subjected to domestic violence and very much a part of the society involved in female foeticide. Case in point, we have south Delhi which happens to be one of the most developed regions and have one of the lowest sex ratio and increasing cases of female foeticide. And, hence the only change or the so called development and liberation is from infanticide to foeticide. Probably we all know about it, even if we might not be aware about its intensity. But what concerns me more is that we know it and yet we are not even close to a visible mobilization. Or else, we would have had a pan India women’s movement by now.

To all those who call themselves (radical) feminist, I only have one question. Do you expect to achieve any kind of equality be it financial or social until you do not stop bashing the men folks. And more than that, do you even think about the majority of the oppressed who happen to be domesticated in the rural hinterlands and have no idea what does the word feminism even means. Or is it just a page 3 chaos where, you look forward to sit on the highest corporate throne built on the corpses of the existing family structure and the very foundation of the social fabric. And for those intellectuals, who find the family the biggest oppressor to the cause of women, ask the mother in laws about their significant roles in the dowry deaths or of all those mothers who knowingly or unknowingly teach all the socially construed feminine values to their girl child. And lastly, is the liberation of your womanhood possibly only at the cost of the total chaos at an individual family level? For your actions, do not give me any hopes either.

You really want to bring a change.

Stop treating the children just as boys and girls. And I do not mean it only by sending both of them to school and letting them work and inherit property. It is only a symptomatic cure and just waters the roots of capitalism without actually addressing the real problem. The very first gender divide comes in the family when a boy with tears is laughed upon as being a little girl and the girl with short hairs and dirt on her face after a dual is asked to be only elegant and soft. The only real difference is how one does it. Totally ignorant families do it with strict enforcement of rules and compulsory domestication of women. While, a little educated ones do it with tact, stores and a book of morals describing the expected behaviour.

It is not enough to show some superficial respect to women on days like this. Would a friendship sustain, if the only time we show it is on the first Sunday of the August? Would a relationship sustain, if the only time we kiss or hug or care for our loved one is in the second week of February? Or is it justified and enough for a kid to respect his parents and teachers only on a Father’s day or a Mother’s day? And imagine how we would have had grown, if the only days we were loved or cared as a kid were our birthdays and the children’s day? It is great to have a day to express one’s sentiment on a given day. There’s isn’t any harm in that except that a few die hard Marxist would degrade it to mere commercialization. (I did too, but I am no way a Marxist. There does exist some element of truth in what they say).

But the fact remains, only a day isn’t enough. The present condition is a manifestation of centuries of misguided thinking and actions and which today is still deeply engraved in the minds. It is easy to learn new things. But it is a herculean task to unlearn first and then imbibe new ideas in practicality and everyday life. We need more than a day. We need more than an organisation. Probably, what we need is a new thought new idea, a new plan and all of this to be internalized by the 1 billion Indians. Yes, it is not women alone who can, or rather, should fight the fight. It has to be a fight for the mankind by the mankind.

आखरी सांस

2011-03-04T21:53:00.002+05:30

ये काले बादल, ये घनघोर घटाएं

दिलाती है याद उस हसीन रात की

ये कड़कती बिजलियाँ, ये बहती हवाएं

भूलाये न भूल पाता, बातें उस आखरी मुलाकात की

हम तो समझ बैठे थे प्यार को भगवान्

दे दिया उनको, अपना दिल अपनी जान

मगर देखो उस खुदा की खुदाई

सज़ा में मिली तो सिर्फ दर्द-ऐ-जुदाई

नादान थे हम जो ये समझ बैठे, कि

हमसे जादा प्यार न कर सकेगा कोई

मगर क्या पता था इस नाचीज़ दिल को

ऊपर वाले की मर्ज़ी से, कभी जीत न सका है कोई

कहते है हर रात की सुबह होती है

हर दर्द की एक दवा होती है

मगर ऐ खुदा पे भरोसा रखने वाले बन्दों

एक सवाल था, क्या होगा जवाब आपका...

जब खुदा ही छीन लेता है ज़िन्दगी की वो हर रौशनी ?

जब अँधेरे और रौशनी के बीच का फर्क, फर्क नहीं रहता

और जब रौशनी की वो आखरी किरण,

अक्सर ज़िन्दगी की आखरी सांस होती है

---श्रीराम

The disillusionment with infidelity

2011-02-27T01:12:00.002+05:30

The other day, I accidently overheard a discussion between two ladies in the Delhi Metro, who were conspicuously talking about a couple who were still staying together and decided to continue their marriage, inspite of the fact that the husband was caught in an extra marital affair. The tone of their conversation displayed their hatred to the entire community of men who according to them were dogs and lacked any loyalty. They detested him even more because he was a father of two. However, they were all in good words for the wife who had showed supreme sacrifice and decided to remain in the marriage for the sake of their kids. So while, the husband represented the lows, the wife epitomized the highs of life.

It isn’t any news as such. Probably, with the passing days, such incidents are becoming more and more common, giving a big boost to the disposable income of the ones who were smart enough to spend their parent’s money on getting a degree in law. Infact with the relative ease of divorce laws, they are having a great time so to say. But somehow amidst all this, it still made me think on certain aspects of it.

Is infidelity always wrong and unjustified, no matter what the circumstances were? I had a chat with a female friend of mine and I sought for some answers and a point of view. What if one is not sexually satisfied either due to lack of it or incompatibility in the current marriage? Since she was relatively in the so called categories of people with modern thoughts, the way ahead, accordingly was to first seek a divorce and then venture for the sexual gratification mission. I ignored the sarcasm and asked what if you have kids and thus divorce would mean ruing their future? This time the way ahead was to compromise. Now my point is why didn’t she suggest compromise at the first place and secondly, why compromise at all. Two things come out. The so called list of moralities, values and ethics which we keep using the way we want are very much conditional and can be easily used to prove either side of the debate. But amidst all this I only ask why does an individual have to suffer because of the deficiencies of an inefficient and corrupt system?

In a free market, when you try to bring in restrictions in form of a floor or a ceiling, more than often, it results in unexpected distortions and emergence of black market or a parallel economy for better use of words. And it happens at the first opportunity one gets. So in case of an absence of a black market, may be its just not yet discovered or may the right opportunity hasn’t surfaced. I would abstain from explaining the analogy I was intending to present.

Also, why is infidelity always measured on a sexual parameter? How different is a man (or a woman) who seeks sexual gratification outside marriage to a one who seeks emotional support which ideally should also be present in the marriage. And for all those dreamers who talk about marriage being a bond of two souls forever, please get over it. As much as I myself would love to live this dream, which the literary figures created and made us internalize from the time we were born, the hard fact is, that marriage is an institution created by the society to tame the unbridled human sexuality in the pre nomadic and nomadic phase of life to a rigid structure, and then adding the function of economic co operation and child rearing and bearing to pass on the property from one generation to the other. Well it is a different matter that with the stroke of a pen, the process of metamorphosis began and thus the reason for varying levels of sacredness and romanticism attached to the institution. But, being rest assured, the degree of indoctrination is so high that, there is rarely a scope of an alternative line of thinking. So, no qualms against those who by now, would have been offended and may be already judged me. For what I know, judging shares its own place in the list of the basic instincts of human beings, which rarely get eliminated. They just lie dormant at the best.

As a matter of fact, I do not intend to stand for the cause of those poor bastards who were caught cheating. Like everybody else, I too despise the act of cheating. But I despise it in all forms and do want to restrict it to mere sexuality. But more than that, I despise the hypocrisy surrounding the human sexuality and the act of institutionalizing it. It is relatively easy to close your eyes and remain ignorant or remain disillusioned with eyes wide open. After all, I too am standing on the peaks of disillusionment, desperately trying to figure out something which might not even exist.

---Sriram

@ Cha Bar

2011-02-23T21:26:00.003+05:30

I took a seat on my usual table

My tea giving its own delight and tranquil

I gazed across the road and back in the shop

Observing the people around, both retro and hip hop.

As I riffled through the pages of Atlas Shrugged,

The couple in corner kissed and hugged.

While a flabbergasted old lady boggled,

Most around either ignored or ogled.

Right in the middle sat a young businessman

Wiping his forehead in continuous anticipation

While some the rowdy striplings giggled

and squabbled creating a pandemonium.

The lady sitting on the other end

Seemed to struggle with her new life

Anxiously, she padded her little toddler

Possibly, waiting for the newbie father.

Every table was a part of some unique story

And amidst all the commotion; they all were linked

Every single moment spent in that place

Was a testimony to someone’s journey and race.

There were people from life’s every phase

Each with a dream on their visible face

And as my mind bloated with thoughts untold

I realized, my hot tea had turned cold.

---Sriram

A life for my life

2011-02-14T12:39:00.003+05:30

This morning, while I was browsing through some old files and folders, I came across this piece of poetry. As I went through reading it, I realized how time flies by. It was way back in 2005 when I worte this.(While attending an extra class in Organic Chemistry). It was my first poem and completing it gave me a sense of immense satisfaction. Inspite of the fact that, now I realize how immature and childish I was, both with my writings and feelings in general, I also could see myself growing through all this time. But then, who cares! I am happy that I attempted to bring out the poetry within me howsoever crude and raw it might be. At the end of the day, this is what makes me happy. Even though, the content within is now redundant, but then just like you do not ever forget the first love of your life, I hold this first poem of mine pretty close. And here after 6 years, I felt like sharing the same.

I still wonder how it all happened

It was all so quick and fast

I being so uncertain about life

And even more about love.

Girls I felt were selfish and mean

Life to me was just to enjoy

There was so many in my life

Yet I seldom had a shoulder to cry.

I could party but not share

I could laugh but not cry

I could dance and sing

But still it was all alone.

Then came a day, a moment

The tide of my thoughts simply changed the direction

Suddenly I felt someone so close to me

Someone so pure so serene so caring.

It was strange for me

Not because I respected her

Not because I was drawn towards her enigmatic beauty

But because I now loved her.

Her voice were the soft petals of a flower

So lovely so charming

Her innocence was what I loved the most

Coz there in laid her beauty.

Dreams- I felt it were

Fantasy –I thought I was in

But soon I realized

It was time to get mesmerized.

Those I believed were real; Inspite of

Emotions and feelings so close to being surreal

It was all about the blind trust

For, she was the one made for me.

I am no more what I was

A changed man is what I am

And suddenly, it occurred,

I too have a life to live now.

I may grow old with her

And live life not just for me

But, for someone special

A life for my life...

---Sriram

What if ?

2011-02-03T20:22:00.003+05:30

I walked on the dusty road

Looking for something we all had lost

The land lay barren, the birds dead

There was a silence in those screeching sounds

The leaves, devoid of its nectar

The homes appeared all ransacked

And the only sound to be heard

Was that of the sobbing soul

There lay a heap of horror

And a pile of ashes turned cold

All they wanted was to live, smile and laugh

But the remains were burnt bones and dried blood

Suddenly I saw the past running

This time not on a 70 mm screen

Certainly, man was the strongest

Yet weak enough to annihilate the rest

I was taken aback by a huge noise

Happily finding it to be just a dream

And then I mused on the remnants

What if the DREAM comes true?

And, what if the DREAMS come true?

---Sriram

Through time and sublime

2011-01-31T03:29:00.002+05:30

Friend, philosopher or a guide

Far and unknown from the malice

To me, she was the reason

Of the laughter and smiles so wide

We had blended in the very first meet

Even sugar couldn’t have been that sweet

Appeared she did to all; a symbol of simplicity

Hidden beneath was the dark maze of complexity

Like the river, the words had flowed

Ups and downs; lows and highs

Through the marvels of the journey, I glowed

Oh Lord! Little did I know about the disguise

While I look at those marvellous years

I still can’t smile without any tears

But, give me chance to go back into the time

And I shall do exactly the same to feel the sublime

---Sriram

Being 24

2011-01-27T21:27:00.003+05:30

In the evening just when I was about to go out for some work my doorbell rang. And to my pleasant surprise it was a birthday card from my parents. And moments later I was travelling across the time axis of the all the birthdays when the only common and the constant part has been my mom wishing me the first and with the same love and affection as it was when I was just a small kid. Well I guess there is nothing unique to it for almost every mom does it for the kid. But it has and still is the most special part of this day.

As a kid I still remember waking up to the tunes of a song “Hum bhi agar, bache hote, Naam hamara hota, dablu bablu... khaane ko milte laddu... arre duniya kehti happy birthday to you.” I think every single birthday of mine till I stayed at home used to begin with this. And honestly, I loved it every single time even when I was 18.

Over the years the ways of birthday celebrations change for most of us. As kids it used to be yet another day, playing with friends and getting all the attention and affection, not to forget the gifts and chocolates and sometimes even money from the eldest member of the family. Like any other kid, I used to keep all the chocolates to myself give the money to mom to safely put it in my Piggy Bank( or to bring out the real feeling as we call it GULLAK).

In the primary school, it usually was all about distributing toffees to the class mates in the period of the favourite teacher and all of the friends singing the “Happy Birthday song.” But the best part was in DPS we used to be allowed to wear our informal (coloured) clothes and be clearly distinguished as the b’day boy. In its own innocent sense, it was the happiest times of the year.

As we grow smart and lost the innocence, mere toffees weren’t enough and well, it got promoted to a school canteen party where, the foodies would dive into the samosas and pastries. {I myself being one held a record for gulping down around 10 on one such occasion.) And of course, for me it was also finally getting to initiate a talk with those beautiful girls (seniors, juniors) whom I kept falling for every now and then. In the last years of school it was mostly about garnering the special affection and sharing beautiful moments with the first love of life.

But what has been remarkably different has been the last 5 years where the birthday begun with the royal treatment of the ass and being painted with the cakes, which on the next day continues to happen if you are bestowed with multiple groups of friend and then finally wallet being let lose. The last 2 at SIMSR hostel were even more remarkable as the number of kicks had no upper limit neither the amount of fun. To add to it, I shared my birthday with my roomie as well which only multiplied the fun we all had together. The one I did manage to escape was the CRISIL tradition where all the colleagues used to sing the HAPPY BIRTHDAY song and more often the poor b’day guy used to be more than just embarrassed.

And here it is time for another one. Life passes by real quick. A year earlier I felt like a kid amongst all my friends who had already crossed 25. And now, it feels like there is so little time and so much to do. I guess being 24 has its own manifestations. The year to come, will, in its own way, determine and shape everything I have been and want to be. All I need is to be as passionate I was as a kid. And while I turn 24 in the next few hours, this is all I could scribble.

Wide awake I stare far away

Into the wilds, roads and up in the sky

Closing my eyes, I pray on this day

Let me remain a kid and yet fly high

---Sriram

Silent Thoughts

2010-12-25T16:31:00.001+05:30

As I sit in repose, leaning back in my chair and listening to the tranquilizing music coming out of the violin, my mind wandered across the years and the holiday seasons spent in ways different each year.

Life tends to move in circles is what I have always believed. But then sometimes the run seems to be eternally long, making me wonder if the circle ever meets its beginning. Being the only child and brought up in a joint family, the experiences always used to be at extremes of commotion and total silence. Probably the first time when i moved out of my home, I so much wanted to stay alone, independently that I immediately rejected the idea of sharing my personal space with anyone whatsoever. And I loved those three years of having a room all for me and still never felt lonely. It was a nightmare for me to even think of staying in a hostel with triple sharing, but I was more than happy to be proved wrong. The two years were the best times which gave me the best of my friends who I so wish remain for the lifetime. And then a small duration of the stay in a flat with two of my close friends was another sweet addition to the memory lanes. To be honest, we never even considered it a flat. Atleast, I remember referring the place as pretty close to my home. And then suddenly here I am back to staying in a single room. The only difference being, its not so glorious and fun as it was for the first time. Maybe it is because of changed goals and motives or may be due to a taste of what it is to have friends around you all the time. I guess loneliness is more of a state of mind than the physical realities. As the romantics would put it, “one can be lonely amidst a party of friends and yet feel connected in a barren island.” Whatever the theory is, it makes me wonder as to why am I even thinking about all of this.

And before I could go deeper, suddenly, I am brought back to the reality with the noisy yet sweet little kids in the neighbourhood playing hide and seek. It is a festive season all around and the entire world seems to have gone back to the days when you sincerely believed in the SANTA. I look at those innocent faces wearing the red caps, I look at those gleaming faces wearing a smile and sharing the joy of being with their loved ones. Certainly a festival gives a way for you to revive the torn out and fill the widening gaps. And for me right now, it also is giving me a perfect moment to sit back and excuse myself from any work. A moment to sit by the window, listen to some soothing tunes and relish the memories, the experiences I have had with people so different yet so caring.

Merry Christmas to all !!!

Addicted...

2010-12-10T19:59:00.001+05:30

In life we all have some ambition

Some reach, while others fail in the mission

And amongst all the confusion and complication

Rarely do we realize our unseen addiction.

Some smoke while others drink

Washing out their worries in the sink

Some do it for the calm and peace

Others simply to hide the lost piece

What if someone is addicted to happiness

No one shall ever call it a mess

But for those hooked to their grieves

Life seems to be stuck in briefs

When choice is among the darker lanes

The dim flickering light of hope goes in vain

It aint always about rights and the wrongs, coz

Sometimes addiction is the only way out for the darkness

It isn’t just about being some goose

As we swing through grandiose to otiose

For grief could be camouflage to the light unseen

Like smile often is, a cloak to the darkness within

---Sriram

A Dope... not just hope

2010-12-08T00:20:00.005+05:30

No matter how far you are

Or, how long it has been

You never forget what it felt like

To have smiled and shared deep within

It didn’t matter and it never could

If she was a fairy tale or a devious angel

Only if, it were possible, I certain would

Knowing the end is certainly not well

I tried to run far away from me

But destiny just took twists and turns

Only to put me where it all began

And ended with ashes after the burns

May be the phoenix was lucky

For sometimes even the ashes could burn

And while we profess an end only to give hope

Eternally burning ash might just be the "dope"

---Sriram

A societal gimmick

2010-11-11T21:59:00.003+05:30

From the very time we are born

To the moments when we breathe our last

Life revolves around things we were sworn

Oscillating between the future and our past.

It isn’t about the right and the wrong

The quotes, the thoughts and the song

This is good and that is bad is all we hear

Snubbing the grey shades, we all bear.

As Shakespeare remarked, Man is a paradoxical being,

full of contradictions, glorious and yet scandalous.

Yet the fragile human heart expects love and forgiveness,

while what remains is just a heap of callousness.

For what we are isn’t what we seem we are

Truth reveals in the darkest of our hours

The never ending lessons on values, morality and ethic

is nothing but an overbearing societal gimmick.

---Sriram

My Prowess

2010-11-07T13:29:00.001+05:30

Alone I sit here in my old room

Bags are packed; things set in motion

Yet there’s this weird glory in the gloom

Not allowing me to move ahead inspite of all the devotion

What once made me happy asking for more

Just doesn’t seem to work anymore

And as I explore myself in those files and folders

Deep dark emotions seem to be in galore

While I see those pair of hopeful eyes

With all their aspirations resting on me

And then I see myself in the mirror and wonder

What has gotten into me with this fear and terror?

Is the loneliness which I fear

Or that I might just be another Lear

I wonder if I am all so ready

To keep my mind and heart so steady

Amongst all this shadow of darkness

Are intertwined both dreams and dope

It is time to realize one’s own prowess

And keep moving with that single ray of hope

---Sriram

As Mr. Agrawal once said, " "

2010-10-09T15:38:00.001+05:30

As early as, when I was a high school student and was gaining my interest into debating and public speaking, I often found myself reading quotes by both great and anonymous people. I read it for reasons more than one. While, it primarily helped me throw in some 4 lines of great depth during my speeches, it also was amazing to see, how those people summed up such deep meanings in mere 25 words or so. Depth, intensity and aptness are the three aspects which gives life to these quotes. However, later, I realized, it’s not the three of what I just mentioned which really matters. It is the name, which is written below those 4 lines which make it deep, intense and apt. For when Shakespeare said, “What is in the name”, we do find a mention of his name below the statement.

I wondered what if I wish and am able to write something with lot of depth and intensity, something which would give rise to a school of thought may be or something which a young energetic school kid would like to quote 50 years from now. I guess, even if I am able to write something like that, it will either be lying in one of the hundreds of folders in my laptop or at most find some place in the cyber space owing to a personal blog I have created (assuming they just don’t have a mechanism to delete it once it stops being accessed).

So this drives a point that our words carry a weight mostly in proportion to the weight and significance of our personality and the space we acquire in the minds of people. Well, the reason, why I got stuck with this thought is not just due to my incessant desire to reach a position where what I speak shall become a quote to be quoted in future. May be if I focus on what I do will help me taste success faster than brooding on this random thought. May be I will come across as a self obsessed individual with this thought, but who cares. We all need an incentive to work and grow. May be this is what could drive me to abandon my sleep and sacrifice the homemade food and other luxuries. But on a more serious note, I have found myself a victim of such a philosophy on more than one occasion. And considering myself to be not totally insane, I guess it could or does happen with others as well. What I am talking about is our tendency to value people’s suggestion not on what they speak or suggest but more on what they are and how successful they have been. The business mantra which a small time school dropout businessman staying next to my home gave me was exactly what Mr C.K Prahlad and Mr. Porter gave in their books. While in the former’s case, I honestly didn’t pay any heed to what he said, I did spend hours reading and mugging every single word of the latter’s point of view and at times even appreciating the same.

Probably, it was just my ignorance, immaturity or a kiddish behaviour to have misjudged his advice on the superficial parameters like his education or the size of his business. Or maybe this is what a lot of us end up doing and do not even know. I realized it only a couple of days back.

So may be from now on, I will need to weigh the advice in terms of its content and relevance rather than the qualification of the one giving it to me. For blindly following what the so called great men said may not always be a sane act and neither would be discarding a thought of wisdom just because it came for free from a common man. After all what made Mr. Mittal, the biggest steel tycoon, may just not work for me.

---Sriram

बैठे थे एक रोज़ हम यूँ ही

2010-10-04T16:28:00.004+05:30

बैठे थे एक शाम हम यूँ ही

कि सोचा हमने उस डूबते हुए सूरज को देखकर

क्यूँ लोग उदास हो जाते है कुदरत की इस खूबसूरती पर

आज भी उठ जाते है कुछ लोग गिर के, बार बार ज़मीन पर

बैठे थे एक रात हम यूँ ही

कि देखा हमने उस चाँद को

कितना ही रौशन कर दे वो उन गहरी रातों को

मगर नहीं भूल पाते लोग चरित्र पे लगे दाग को

बैठे थे एक सुबह हम यूँ ही

कि देखा उन पंछियो की उड़ान को

उड़ सकते है आप और हम भी, दूर गगन आसमान में

एक सच्चा मौका तो दो अपने आप को

बैठे थे एक रोज़ हम यूँ ही

कि, एक ख्याल आया हमारे दिल में

ना कोशिश की जिनके लिए, हमने कभी

आज करीब है दिल के सिर्फ वो कुछ लोग ही

बैठे है आज भी हम यूँ ही

अक्सर अपने खिड़कियो में , करते हुए इंतज़ार

कभी तो होगा सवेरा हमारी भी ज़िन्दगी में

कभी तो सच होंगे हमारे वो सपने भी

बैठते है हर रोज़ आज भी हम यूँ ही .

---श्रीराम

Arranged M&A..Oops..I meant marriage!

2010-10-02T15:10:00.006+05:30

Coming from a joint family with a really huge base of relatives all scattered around in the vicinity offers far too many advantages. As kids, we had our own gang which was so high in number that, the elders feared all of us coming together at one place in one time. A reckless gang, where the age difference was as large as 10 years. We have played hide and seek and every single board game be it a ludo or a business or a monopoly. And we played cricket in all the seasons and times of day and night, including the indoor cricket where hitting the tube light was considered as “out”.

Time flies and today most of them who were elder to me are married or on the verge of getting so. Coming to the point of marriage, they all have been very true to what was expected of them. Each and single soul went through the process of “arranged marriage”. All my hopes of having someone in my family who would do a love marriage were belied every single time. Never mind. Now, if they couldn’t find one for themselves, I am not really the right person to blame them. After all people living in glass house shouldn’t be throwing stones at others.

But what has always amused me is the entire long process of arranged marriage which is no less than a Corporate M&A. Well don’t raise your eyebrows. I am not exaggerating.

The above pictorial representation is taken from one of the many ordeals of slides we went through during the MBA days. It all starts with a strategic plan where the elder decides that its time the protagonist gets married. This could be due to reasons across all the aspects. Crossing the threshold age or completing a post graduate degree is the simplest of the reasons. It could also be if the eldest member wants to see a grandchild or great grandchild or even in situations when suddenly people realize they didn’t have a marriage for quite so many years ( 5 or more) and now it is time to have some party and reunion with all the kiths and kin.

Once it is approved and the would-be bride or groom is informed about the same, the elders try to show their flexibility and liberal nature by asking if the protagonist has someone in life. The questions are not supposed to be taken in a literal manner. Its only accepted answer, is “No, I am fine with whoever you think is suitable for me.”

I have seen families using the matrimonial sites, but I guess, in a tier 2 and 3 cities, even that isn’t required. The elders (possibly the most connected one) only need to put a word in the community and the message travels far and wide about the intentions of a possible merger..oops a marriage alliance. A number of proposals come along the quality and quantity depending upon the protagonist as well as the family. (Read company and group company/promoters). Every application is studied and a proper due diligence is performed by both the parties which involves interaction with protagonist and a general survey of the past track records known it the market and close friends. A set of possible targets are identified and the deal is sealed based on parameters like financial stability, cultural similarities, possible synergies and of course the not so official factors like the amount of peer pressure and miscellaneous “financial transactions.” Not to forget, the valuation done is a matter of subjectivity and is based on the information both public and private acquired through both reliable and unreliable sources. The model encompasses a detailed list of factors and its correlation with the final number which could contain 6 to 8 zeroes. But then as we all know, at the end of the day, it is just a call one needs to take and pray that its close enough to the reality.

Once all of this is in place, it’s time for the execution and here it is the ability of the two parties to manage their expenses and time frame as any deviation or extension in the timelines could make the entire deal fall through. All this while, the 2 nominal central characters are allowed to interact; not to decide but just to be prepared for what is going to come ahead.

Finally the deal... I mean the marriage takes place and its success is measured by parameters quite varying in nature. After the cultural and financial synergies are formed, one might expect to have some harmonious relationship between the two people. And yeah, at most places the parent companies have pretty short horizon and the profitability of deal might even be judged by how soon the small companies are born. 3 years without the entry of new member and you will get to hear every possible ridiculous/hilarious explanation for the same. Well, I think I should just stop now or else if this piece fall into the wrong hands, a deal in the distant future might not all together take place...

---Sriram

Journey back home

2010-09-29T18:05:00.001+05:30

Talk about using multiple medium of transport in the same day and deciding within them in no time. With all the mixed feelings of leaving Mumbai, when I reached CST at 5 am sharp owing to my habit of being in time to catch my train, I was greeted by the coolies who with a straight face informed me about the delay. Rather delay seems to be an understatement. My train got delayed by 10 hours from the boarding point which basically implied by the time I complete my 27 hours journey to reach TATA, I would be running late by atleast 14 to 15 hours. For a second I felt if this is any indication to not leave the city and then snapped out of it as quickly as possible after reminding myself of the multiple signals I got to chase my other dream. For a few minutes, I really didn’t know what to do. So, I took the easiest way out. I called my dad for he has answers to almost all of my doubts. The problem in taking the delayed train was not of reaching late but being fully exposed to the upcoming verdict on Ayodhya and the risks of travelling after the sun sets in a stretch of almost 70 kms dominated ad ruled by the Naxalites. While the former was just a stretched form of precaution which I knew my concerned family would have wanted me to take, the latter was matter of common sense. No sane person would travel on that route once dusk settles. Even the police don’t. So why should I.

So now it was about which flight to take as I knew I am soon going to contribute big time in increasing the revenues of the loss making airline companies by not just paying for my tickets, but also for the excess luggage which was packed keeping in mind a train journey. Any which way, I rushed to the airport and for a change was pleased by the fact that I could still get the morning flight which was 2 grands cheaper than the one I was contemplating to book. However, the happiness simply vanished and I literally gasped for breath when I saw the total weight of my luggage. Well It was a little more than what one of my (ex)-roomies weighed, when he had his diet in control. I pleaded, negotiated, threatened and possibly used all the word and jargon I had in my kit to waive off some of the charges on excess baggage. But, I knew, I had no position to bargain and so the asshole sitting on the other side of the table took complete advantage of it and I ended up being a victim of corporate pricing of the luxury of carrying excess baggage to an extent which made me hate JET Airways. And, when I realized, I have paid more for my luggage than my ticket, it simply exaggerated my plight. Within few hours, I had ruthlessly reduced my hard earned money at a job which I just quit.

And amidst all this I yearned for some sleep which I hadn’t had for last 48 hours or more. But I guess, I had to remain deprived of that basic human need for quite some time. The problem is I can’t sleep in flight. So I just remained awake and even tough I was really hungry, I made sure I act miser enough to not pay even a dime more to the airline company which just took advantage of my situation.

I reached Kolkata, and was greeted by a hot and humid weather and people with moustache (which for many was denser than the ones present on the top of the skull. The prepaid taxi counter denied me a direct cab to my destination for apparently no good reason, once again leaving me to the mercy of the taxi cartel outside airport whose bread and butter comes from looting the newcomers through tampered meters and unreasonable fares. Anyways, for a change I wasn’t in that entire bad situation, as I did happen to have some idea of the city and so was able to cut a pretty decent deal. And for people who say Mumbai traffic sucks and Kolkata isn’t all that a metropolitan city, well it at least had a traffic worse than what we have in Mumbai or Delhi. The duration of my flight time and taxi time basically matched.

The bright side of the entire episode till now was, I got to meet my cousin after a very long time ad we had a good chit chat. Fortunately, I also could get a ticket to Dhanbad, which I didn’t really expect. After having a good time there, I once again left for the station hour and a half early which is generally a 5 minutes travel. But as expected today, transport hasn’t been the brightest side, I barely made it to the station 5 minutes before the departure, dripping with sweat and gasping for some air. I had a total recall of how I missed Rajdhani a few years back in a similar situation. Though History didn’t repeat itself and I could safely board the train.

And here I am now waiting to get down at Dhanbad and then drive back to my sweet home. The feeling of being back at home has already taken over me and I am only wondering what I am going to have for my dinner.  I am so much waiting for my late night long walks with Dad on our terrace. It had been a long while and it is once again going to be a long journey away from home after a fortnight. Till then, I hope, I have a great time with my family.

--- Sriram

The Ripples

2010-09-28T00:16:00.001+05:30

As I gazed at the setting sun

The kids around fought, played, making everyone run

The soft ripples in the unusually still sea

Created nothing less than waves within me

Closing my eyes, I felt the soft breeze

As my feet sank in the wet sand

Just when I wanted to have the last look

The sun with all its deep colours just vanished

These ripples on the sea surface

Remind me of the unseen and the unheard

Those chaos and commotion deep down the sea

Just like the one within me, so unknown and untouched

Looking at those steady rocks, still unweathered

Gives me the courage to fight those waves underneath

To dream and to climb so high;

While still standing on those sinking sand

---Sriram

The Dark Light

2010-09-26T22:49:00.002+05:30

I look up to the highs of the dusky sky

And down to the depths of the shimmering sea

Perplexed I am, standing at the crossroads

To choose between the heights and depths

One takes me to the glory unparalleled

The other in the world of unknown darkness with a ray of lighted hopes

And the seemingly simple choice proves to be the one

Most difficult and impossible with all the stakes

I feel so secured in the darkness not being able to see the truth

Accustomed to the grief, I find comfort with the melancholy

With no fears to fall down any deeper

Sometimes darkness seems to be the only light...

---Sriram

Sleepless Nights

2010-09-26T04:28:00.002+05:30

There are nights when you don’t sleep because of work pressure and there are some when you don’t realize when the night passed away while you were busy watching a series of movies or making love. There are some sleepless nights when you miss people who were close to you and nights which see their end while you keep testing your capacity to drink and dance. And most commonly I believe the sleepless nights when two people in or about to fall in love (or lust) unknowingly contribute heavily to the top margins of the telecom giants. Apart from these common ones, I personally have had sleepless nights when I realized the break of dawn only with the chirping birds disrupting my concentration on social networking sites and quite a few when I, along with my friends, lost track of time discussing everything under sun or moon. Right from politics to economics; sex to society and relationships to pure gossips session the silence and darkness of the night has the potential to take it all. But off late, I have had sleepless nights when I did absolutely none of these.

When I was finally disturbed from my concentration into the vacuum by the trucks supposedly carrying goods with legal permits, I realized all I did was listen to the tracks of Sonu Nigam and write some 5 to 6 pages of some random stuff only to be deleted or backspaced. Playing hide and seek with the stubborn mosquitoes, who now seem to have developed some defence mechanism against all kinds of repellents or killers, I made quite a number of unsuccessful attempts to write something which could probably depict my state of mind.

Right now I am certainly not under any kind of work related pressure because technically I have by choice opted to be unemployed. Or to put it in better sounding words, I resigned from my job to do some business. I thought, it will be a good idea to move from being a person who sits in a huge office commenting on the top line and bottom line of a company; discussing the possible reasons for its performance in the last fiscal and giving a “call” on how the company and industry will fare in medium to long term to being someone who would actually run a company and make sure top line and bottom line grow in congruence with the overall industry performance.

For a change, I don’t feel like watching movies or increase the revenues of the telecom players or even the upcoming giant”Facebook”. Neither is anyone awake to talk about their dysfunctional relationships both virtual and real. And as I write this, it’s already 04 00 hours. Sitting here I now realize a weekend has its value derived not only from the past weekdays which suck the blood out of us but also from the forthcoming week which will once again push us to our limits. Now, when I know that in a couple of days, I will be having some real food sitting with my dad, this weekend just got lacklustre.

So coming back to sleepless nights, right now I have absolutely no reason to remain wide awake when I can have a long duration of sleep. But then who cares. Right now I am just waiting for the most beautiful moment one gets to witness after having a literally sleepless night. The slow and subtle transition from total darkness to the first rays of light which slowly encompasses the entire sky and puts the moon in the backstage is just worth it. Sitting beside the window on the 2nd floor may not be the best geographical location to enjoy the same, but nevertheless, the plain sight of the light slowly taking over the dark night, those sparrows hopping across the pavement in a straight line and an entire variety of birds shaking up the all the branches of the Gulmohar and subsequently the fallen flowers covering the entire pathway is something worth burning the midnight oil for. And even better is to see the sunrise on the Marine Drive, which happens to be a west coast. Well, try enjoying a sunrise through its reflection in the sea water across the horizon. It might as well prove to be more beautiful than the usual sunrise points. We once enjoyed the view and it was totally worth it.

And the last of all, there are some sleepless nights, where all I can think of and do is write something which I feel or think and possibly publish it on my blog like I just did...

---Sriram

Amidst the Mist...

2010-09-19T23:15:00.002+05:30

Four souls walked on the road and all they could see was a dense white mist all around them. Walk 5 steps ahead and you are invisible to the people behind. The lights from the dipper of the vehicles acted both as a relief and horror with the moving dark shadows in the dim light. Be it my ex-roomie or my current, both did get scared at some moments; yet we continued to walk along, enjoying the exotic beauty just because we happened to be at the right place at the right time. Without any exaggerations of any kind, I must say it was one of the most beautiful and mystic sight we had all around us with the cool breeze sending a chill down our spine. It was a perfect moment. A perfect moment to have a Hukkah, a glass of whisky and a cup of tea. (not to forget the kanda bhajia).

As the smoke from the Hukka and mist amalgamated and created an all together different ambience for us in an otherwise a very usual place and the moonlight tried to pierce down the whiteness in the dark night, we laughed and shared talking the sensibilities and unusualness in an otherwise non sensible and common talks of life. Swinging between the past and future, we oscillated from dreams to memoires, punctuated with the small fights, claiming our turn for the hukka. . All four of us had a great time. I guess one of the most intense conversations we ever had together which we all would remember for a long time.

The next day we all went for the usual points where people gather, gaze and click to carry back the memoirs back to home. And while we were coming back, there was a peace of mind and a sense of happiness to have spent such amazing times together with my closest friends.

Without a doubt, it was one of my best weekends in Mumbai!!!

--- Sriram

With a sip of coffee...

2010-08-24T21:07:00.001+05:30

I took the seat in the same corner table

And delighted I was to look at the colourful label

While the music was both retro and pop

I glanced across those seated in the coffee shop

As I flipped through the pages of “Atlas Shrugged”

A seemingly happy couple kissed and hugged

The oldies stared in horror and may be jealousy

As if what they saw was too sassy or classy

Right in the centre was a businessman

Drinking his 5^th cup of coffee in some anticipation

To my right were a bunch of rich spoilt teens

Who seemed to be absorbed in their own grandeur

Every single table had its own unique story in making

Which somewhere amidst all the music and commotion

Were knitted and interwoven into a common thread

Waiting for the moment to be set in motion

As I sipped my hot coffee now cold

I felt the thoughts mature and grow old

To realize the dreams and lives I want to mould

I guess, it’s time to take a step; both strong and bold

---Sriram

Delhi Metro vs the Mumbai Locals

2010-08-23T19:19:00.000+05:30

I had been hearing about the so called rapid changes in the infrastructure of New Delhi for quite some time now. Finally I got to spend my last weekend in the city which made me fall in love with it on the very first day that dates back to 14th July 2005. I have always been in love with this city and I still don’t really know the precise reason, nor do I have any idea for my disinterest in a city like Mumbai which attracts a huge population in the country.

Well I don’t intend to start comparing the two cities because I have my own biases. However, right now while I sit in the Rajdhani express with 5 more people who are in their late 70s enjoying their game of cards and with having made quite a lot of commuting in the Delhi Metro, I couldn’t help contrasting it with the Mumbai Locals.

First thing to notice in the Delhi Metro would be the usage of a popular electronic equipment, which basically lowers the overall temperature and avoids unwanted sweating (People call it AC). Life there does look beyond a “Vada Paav.” Earlier, when i used to travel by metro back in my graduation days, I hated all those people who seemed professional with their clothing, but pushed like maniacs to enter the evening train to Kashmiri gate. Well, this time all those people seemed so much friendlier and with heightened civic sense. After being pushed and crushed in the Mumabi locals, any damn fellow traveller in trains in any part of India would seem friendly. Even the ones in Gaya and some interior parts of Bihar, where somehow 8 people manage to sit in a place meant for a maximum of 4 people. Infact, I just remembered that the Delhi Metro doesn’t even discriminate like here in Mumbai. There’s no first or a second class. At some level, I highly appreciate that, especially after seeing how rude and arrogant people can get here in the locals if a person with an appearance of the so called second class accidentally enters the first class.

But my personal favourite about the Delhi metro is that the worst which can happen is to be forced to smell the mixture of different deodorants. Compare it to a heterogeneous mixture of the body odour which one has to experience in the Mumabi locals. And not to forget the pretty sight of beautiful creations of the almighty which you get to see in the metro and which is almost next to impossible in the locals.

No offence to the Kolkata Metro. I have travelled just once when I was a small kid. I have no memories except that the highest fare of Kolkata is lower than the lowest fare in Delhi. Anyways, Kolkata is better suited when we talk about the Bandhs, the Indian culture and the related stuff. Infrastructure is a far cry.

But I guess, now that I am back to Mumbai, life is back on the speed tracks of the locals. In Mumbai, it sometimes takes an entire lifetime for people to move to the fast tracks from the slow ones. (Copied from some bollywood flick). Hopefully I will be able to take it to a track which will take me to places I dream to reach...

---Sriram

Silent Echoes

2010-08-16T02:09:00.002+05:30

I wonder, what is it that

Is driving me nuts?

I ponder, what is it that

Is undermining my guts?

I see all around with eyes so hollow

Searching for that missing glow

I tumble down amidst the unknown

Still looking for things; long gone

I stare at the white screen

And look at the cursor blinking

I feel a huge void; and blankness within

As if my entire soul is slowly sinking

I try to chuck those images and thoughts

But they just won’t leave me and go

The silence still hurts and loudly echoes

Once up high; the feeling now is so low

---Sriram

Hopes and Tears

2010-08-15T17:17:00.001+05:30

While he lay still, wide awake

And kept thinking for the old times’ sake;

he floated in his own world of beauty

When the alarm gave a call of duty

While the days are so bright with a song

The nights are dark and long

Like a circle without a start or an end

he found himself back to where it all begun

As the days come closer and the moment near

He is gripped with uncertainty and a deep fear

Disappointment and dejection is what it holds for him

Yet, it gives a comfort to him and his whims

With every sunrise he lived up with new hopes

No matter what, he knew, who he loved

But, days turned into months into years

The only remains left were his dried up tears

---Sriram

Grains of Sand...

2010-07-24T15:08:00.002+05:30

While I sat on the edges

And looked across the horizon

The air around, touched my skin

Showing me a plethora of vision and illusion

Life is like the grains of sand

No matter, how hard you try,

You can’t hold them in your hand

It keeps slipping out of control

The little that is left, is all we own

People close, will always be

Is neither a rule or a must

For this isn’t about choice or loyalty

Or even a breach of trust

Be it the air or simply water

Or, whatever we have and treasure

They surround us only till they want

Just like people, who suddenly drift apart

Shaken by a shiver and chill, I realized

I was hiding in a mist

In a blanket of dark, grey and uncertainty

The only light was of my fate, my destiny

---Sriram

Liberated in the veil

2010-07-23T22:44:00.003+05:30

She lay still in a veil

While the porch hung from the creaking branches

And as the clouds camouflaged the crescent

I could hear nothing but a slow wail

The noise of dry leaves being crushed

Penetrated the dead silence of the night

Scared I was, and frozen to death

If only, someone could have see the plight

Dead, she was long back

They only stopped the heartbeat

Enslaved, she always was

Death, only liberated her...

---Sriram

Naked and Bare

2010-06-30T12:24:00.002+05:30

A lonely kid sat alone in the dark

His forehead bleeding with a mark

Across the street was something, so hollow

He figured it out to be just a shadow.

It was on the other side of a window,

The figures seemed to be in a mellow

and as they danced and swayed

The kid simply shivered and withered

He wondered if it was the dark,

or, was it the blood so cold

While the shadows grew red in the heat of passion,

that little heart stopped its action

Next morning he is picked up by the garbage van

also carrying the wastes of the passion,

While a few leer and drank beer,

The lives of rest lay naked and bare

---Sriram

The first Shower @ Crisil House

2010-06-07T16:24:00.002+05:30

Here I sit amongst the intelligent people
Ready to analyze, every single upheaval
From demand and supply to the market dynamics
It is excel and the numbers alone which give them the kicks

Across my seat, there is a huge window
Where I keep looking, resting on my elbow
While the analysts, talk facts and numbers
I am appalled by issues lying in a slumber

A mile away I see greenery and a hill
Looking at it strengthens my will
Up high in the sky, birds fly back in a line
I choke; thinking about what could have been mine

Suddenly I could see the drops of rain
And listen to them as they fell
I put my hands out and closed my eyes
To feel the first drops casting its spell

Minutes later the pain just vanished
And left behind an aroma to be relished
The first rains had created its magic across the sea
I knew it all as feeling a new lease of life all around me

---Sriram

Side Effects of being an Analyst- Part 1

2010-05-29T14:26:00.001+05:30

As I sit here in my flat on a Saturday afternoon, I find myself oscillating between the state of being completely disengaged to almost getting churned out in the mix of my thoughts. It’s finally the end of yet another supposedly eventful month with absolutely no head turning events.

From someone who slept only after the sun rose and interacted on almost all the online social medium possible, I have been reduced to an “Early to bed and early to rise routine.”

How unexpected and undesirable of me to sleep at 12 midnight and wake up by 6:30 a.m. This isn’t the day I had lived to see after spending 2 glorious years at SIMSR Hostel where life begun after the 10:30 p.m. whistle by those agonising guards.

My average time on useful internet services (Gmail, ymail, fb, orkut, twitter etc.) has suddenly witnessed a steep downward sloping curve with a bleak outlook on any expected rise in the near future. Such has been the magnitude of change in the landscape of my lifestyle that I have begun to see myself as an entirely different individual who has lost all his basic values he imbibed in the hostel.

It’s been more than a month I didn’t feel hungry at 2 am looking for something to gobble, which I now understand, was the primary driving force behind my sound health and fitness inspite of the nightmarish food we were forced to have.

Only I can understand and feel the unendurable pain and agony of having a 1gbps internet connection with no facility of even an IP messenger chat. I accept that there isn’t any soul in office which could act as a slight incentive to have the facility, yet the very absence of it leaves my heart damaged beyond repairs. (Oh I so much miss those multicasts which I so hated then.)

The joy of reading and sharing the Economic Times in bits and pieces in the middle of class has suddenly vanished as I find myself sitting with a copy of Business Standard and a cup of coffee in the comfortable couch in my office.

After all the unlimited usage of the 3 most important keys of one’s laptop ( Ctrl, C, V) in preparing the supposedly best reports on the state of economy, industry and companies, I am terrorised to even think about the fate of the banks, and the entire industry and the poor unaware companies when they would most probably formulate their lending and business strategies taking a lot of inspiration from the outlook and dynamics of the industry which I will be preparing in due course of time. My heart goes out for them. God, Bless those poor soul, for they are unaware and unknown of the dangerous roads they are about to travel. But, on second thoughts I think, I am not the only one. They have survived earlier and I believe they still will because even a wrong information, if is believed and used by everyone, acts like the universal truth. SO I guess, I won’t have to bear the burden of the entire economy anymore.

And as I look at my earlier posts, I just can’t believe my own eyes. It seems like all my deep emotions have almost died and have been replaced by my sane thoughts. I still can’t understand how I let this happen to me.

I don’t know if this is a universal phenomena and whether my friends too are facing the same wrath of this undesirably noble transformation. Only they could throw some light on this.

For what I know, it is all a beginning to what I feel is “The life of a Research Analyst” or “Side effects of being an Analyst.” For the first time, I cant even think of an apt titlte.

Whatever, it may be I promise you all to come out of this soon J

---Sriram

E Cube: Economics, Eccentricity and Equilibrium

2010-05-23T14:26:00.002+05:30

By Sriram Agrawal

A book I wish to write someday in my life!!!

Economics of relationship!

Economics of Life!

Rationality and fate! What rules?

Ideology : A never ending process of construction and deconstruction

Strive...Succeed...Satisfied! The virtuous or the vicious cycle

Life is a manifestation of every single act of ours, every single moment and every single thought we have in that moment!

E cube isn’t some theoretical economics. Its economics elucidated to the Common man. It isn’t just a critique of outlandish teenagers or an obdurate in a society. It is a subtly woven association of eccentricity and economics in the enigmatic behaviour of people in form of stories and passages both related and unrelated. It is an effort to view the self sustaining equilibrium which exists in every form of life and how through all the isms of the world, the one common thread which holds us all is the varying yet strikingly similar ways in which the homo sapiens view their existence. It isn’t the answer to any of the mysteries. It is only a step to help you find one.

I dont know if I ll ever be able to write something on such lines. I dont know if I even a single soul will read this provided it gets published :P

But, What do i know, is I ll make a sincere effort to write one. Lets see... Right now, all my time and enery is devoted to gain an understanding on Power and Coal so that the I am able to give a right call on the outlook... However some day may be in a few years, I do wish to climb and pass the unchartered and unkown terriotiry.

-Sriram Agrawal

The Maoist Insurgency: Has it crossed all levels, or, is it just a beginning?

2010-05-19T14:00:00.001+05:30

Every day when I browse through the newspaper to see the dismal numbers of economic recovery coupled with an ever increasing numbers of the casualties from the Naxal attacks, I am not even in a state to feel sorry or sympathize. Fortunately I may not be in the direct radar of their wrath, but, unfortunately, I do belong to one of those states whose potentially bright future has been doomed by political instability and insurgency.

Both Indian government and Maoists have their own stands and so called principles on which they operate and work, however, the adversarial nature of their conflict has cost lives. Lives of not only security personnel who dedicate their life towards our safety, but also the unarmed civilians, who aren’t even a stakeholder in whoever wins the fight. Call it pessimism or practicality, the socio economics and political destiny of these people still lie beyond their reach.
Our most honorable home minister has been changing his stances and probably the death of civilians enlightened him to initiate a talk in the middle of operation green hunt. Though the offer was rejected on the certain grounds, what makes me ponder upon the impotency of the government is their explicit request to hold on the violence for 72 hours.

Does it mean the security force has accepted its inability to protect people even in time measure by hours? And the fact that the home minister hasn’t still agreed on other demands, I wonder if he is waiting to see some more blood to give in, because right now, it doesn’t really look like he has any bargaining power.

So the point is, “Is there a pre determined number of deaths which needs to take place before you give in?” As far as I believe, they don’t have any political or moral or human rights to decide that.

I don’t intend to glorify the act of giving in to the anti social or in this case may be anti nationalist groups of people who keep vandalizing life and property at their will, however, I do believe that when time comes, we need to do whatever it takes to ensure the basic right to people, “right to life.”

Peace talks or force, what is important is that this needs to stop. And it won’t in a day or a week or a month because beneath all this violence lies extreme dissatisfaction at all levels, be it social acceptability, political will or economic well being. Every movement starts with a cause, but, if continued for a prolonged period sometimes also leads to lot of adulteration in the thoughts and practices which is exactly the case in point here.

But all said and done, as someone who has a family only 100 kilometers away from the epicenter and as someone who happens to be a resident of a country which right now is facing the biggest internal security threat (which will continue to grow if unaddressed), I cannot just feel sorry or sympathize.

But then I have an unanswered question, “What do I do?”

--Sriram

The Last Post !!!

2010-04-15T05:02:00.003+05:30

As I sit here spending my last few hours @ Simsr Hostel, I see the images of last the last 22 months which is a saga in itself. Life has undergone a metamorphosis beyond imagination and it has been a pleasant one. From a 21 year old Economics graduate, I am now a 23 year old MBA(Finance). Wola... Sounds pretty heavy or melodramatic or may be just a fact free from any frauds. But this isn’t the change I was talking about. Someone said, life is not about the destination you reach but the journey you embark upon. Simsr hasn’t been just about the degree or the job or a soulmate. It has been a lot more vivid with a spread like that of a vast unending sea we see across the horizon.

It was only 16^th June 2008, when we all came from across the country and backgrounds with striking contrasts and today when we leave we have more than one thing in common. Its impossible for me to narrate a journey where each day has been so eventful in its own way. From religiously reading the first HBR articles to possessing laptops where the 3 most crucial keypads (Ctrl, C, V) have lost their mark, we have been through times where 30 people gather in a single room to study accounts and another 35 to watch a movie like Deshdrohi in the common area. I met people who are willing to teach the same stuff over and over again to every single person without any self interest to people multicasting 30 minutes before exam to have a CS match for “just 15 minutes.” I met people who yell after each exams to someone who got special rights to present vote of thanks at every possible occasion because of their unsurpassable communication skills. I got an honor to be good friends with one of the most respectable and honourable guy with whose name people even attached a G and share my room with both the marketing and the financial prodigies. It was a place where I saw commitments levels at both ends. A class which has the best sports persons who have made SIMSR proud more than once and mindblowing dancers and models who can set any stage on fire. It has been a place where I met the biggest pranksters and gossipmongers (in the best of sense) who made sure, the market has the complete information ;) . It introduced me to youngest of the lot who were always full of energy and the experienced lot who proved to be even more energetic. Form the APS to the LPS to the efficient SRs and CR and from all the informal chain mails to removing profs from the groups, everything has been so amazing. The list goes on and on and on.....

From writing 1/12^th of MBA as status message to finally being an MBA, life has mostly been a beautiful journey with some dark nights. And the journey is beautiful not because, it was meant to be but because every single soul nurtured the bonds and relationships we developed. And as we are about to get into an all together different world, I can only wish for a little lesser drastic changes. I know life moves on and so do we. I know that we aren’t meant to attend classes all our life.

Honestly, I am too overwhelmed to realize what do I exactly want. All day long, when people were leaving for their home, I stood strong. I stood strong when I was packing my bags knowing that a lot of my friend would still be staying back at SIMSR to chase their dreams. I stood strong I knew that the next hug from them will be after a long time. And I stood strong, when a friend said, “You are now an alumnus too.” Not anymore!

For all those who I came to know as little or as much

Hope life grows better and we keep in touch

Thank you for the beautiful life in the last 2 years

No matter how strong, the truth is visible in those tears.

---Sriram

ज़िन्दगी के इस मोड़ पर

2010-04-13T04:11:00.002+05:30

आज की ही है बस ये रात

कहनी थी उनसे कुछ ये बात

जब जब देखा था हमने तुझे

लम्हा वो हर पल का याद आएगा हमे

पहली नज़र में इश्क हुआ था आपसे

कह ना पाए दिल की बात कब से

और आये जब ये बेला आज आपसे

बिछड़ने की दिल आहे भरता है रो रो के

कभी न सोचा था ऐसा भी वक़्त आएगा

मिलने के बाद जुदा होने का भी समय आएगा

कभी ख़ुशी कभी गम के इस खेल में

क्या पता था ये दौर भी जुजार जायेगा

मिलने बिछड़ने के इस सफ़र में

कुछ साथी बने तो कुछ हमसफ़र

ऐतबार है मुझको ऐ दोस्तों

मिलेंगे हम ज़िन्दगी के और भी कई मोड़ पर

-- श्रीराम

The Priority vs An Option

2010-04-01T02:21:00.002+05:30

Life is a beautiful chain of memories

The Songs we sing; those long stories

The hugs, the dances and the fights

They all bring the same delight

They make us both glad and sad

For the heart rules with the eyes clad

The sunset and sunrise as they occur

Takes me back and forth like a soccer

I lay with the lights dim yet eyes wide open

And while memories seem to have shorten

My mind wanders on those same lanes

Suddenly life becomes all so mundane

Reflecting back on the past deeds

Memories come alive showing the leads

Dark clouds hover around while we lament

The beauty turns sombre for what we haven't

Life goes for a toss while we create a notion

A Habit into love into an obsession

Happiness fades; Melancholy comes with an auction

When She becomes the priority with I being "just an option"

---Sriram

Memoirs of PG-A Trip.... Part 2

2010-03-21T00:49:00.003+05:30

Contd...

The night party

Earlier in afternoon lot of us were sceptical regarding the availability of our preferred drinks looking at the surroundings which suggested that we were surely in a village area. To this extent a few had even shown a little disappointment while others had already contemplated the option of DESI stuff. However as the night approached everyone was more than happy to have had a look at their own personal love in the shape of bottles of varying shapes and sizes. Form beer to vodka and from frooti to pepsi, we had all.

And there came Rajji who almost looked like a movable chips stall with a plethora of packets hanging on all his sides. Slowly people got into their moods as the liquid found its way from the neck to the belly and finally to the grey areas. While Kumar could be seen with an uncontrollable smile accompanied by Dada, Netaji preferred it clean. RD was his usual way while Ankur kept drinking from here and there boasting of his tenacity. Wadhwa was busy getting his pics clicked in the newly discovered “ Wadhwa Look” while Tarang kept entertaining us all by putting on better songs after the responsibility was taken away from RD. Deepak played a few melodious tracks for all of us which we very soon converted into a ruckus with our extremely tuneless yet enthusiastic voices. Milind sat all the time with the other Marshian (Read Vinie). Rest all of were too busy eating or rather throwing “Chana” on each other. I still don’t know why we found it so amusing then. But yes, we did. As the night passed, the otherwise sitting or lying souls all around, started to move in to the tunes of the typical Boolywood songs. Soon everyone joined the endless dancing which continued for quite a while. The only ones who didn’t were either those who had completely gone down or the ones holding the cameras. For more than the moment then, those pictures and videos is what we will treasure even more. It was almost 2:30 am by then, when people slowly moved into different corners. While some crashed on their beds, others started on to do what we are all best at. GOSSIP!!! Some went emotional talking about all the things we did or did not in the last two years. Some of us went out for a walk to catch up some fresh air. It would have been pretty creepy and scary out there, had we not been there in groups. It was an abandoned road with no lights and a constant voice of a few nocturnal. We came back by 3:30 by when almost everyone were in their dreamland. Rahul, Sammy, Aanand, Amit, Mani and Myslelf. The last few souls still wide awake. Well, there was another round of small talks, which most didn’t remember the next day. And as the time came for most people to wake up and do their daily chores, a group of people away from all the worries of the world went back to catch some sleep. After all it had been an amazing day and we did require some sleep to be rejuvenated enough to carry on the adventure, the next day.

DAY 2... The Staircase to heaven

As a matter of fact, we happened to be in a place also known as “DAKSHIN KAHSHI” which has a huge significance in the religion. It is one of those few places which have a SHIVALING which emerged from the mother earth. A beautiful temple has been constructed all around it, which is worth a visit. Also there is this Semi round circle which the visitors make and is known as “Staircase to heaven.” Well, leaving aside the religious significance and the interpretations, this staircase to heaven without a doubt lives up to its name. It is a staircase to the heavenly beauty which one can experience moving along the path. It is a staircase to one of the best panoramic view of the sea in between the two mountains. Even though we could get a chance to watch the sunset form there, the view we had was indicative enough of the beautiful sunset one can watch from there. And it is undoubtedly a staircase to the heaven of emotional liberation and a way to connect with people around us. A place where peace of mind and tranquillity finds its way into the hearts of visitors and refills their life with a sense of pride and enthusiasm which we tend to lose in the cobweb of our rituals. And as I write about the experiences we all had, I am once again drawn to the beauty and serenity of the place.

As we all had slept at different times, we all went there in different groups. Amit, Rahul, Aanandji and I went and were totally dumbfounded and amazed looking at this beautiful canvas which the nature had painted all so well with all shades of colours. We went about appreciating every big and small thing all around and trying to capture every single moment in frames. We even tried to climb the insurmountable hills around us, but quickly came down after getting a few frames captured to showcase our fake courage and extreme passion to get clicked. As we climbed down those staircase we were once again welcome by yet another vast stretch of sea with hills on oe side and dark rocks on the other. It kind of gave it a class touch and we all in a second realized that this was what we were looking for. The perfect place to feel the cool breeze blowing across the face; to feel the cold water beneath our feet and touch the hot hard rocky hill punctured by the strong tides, which over the years have made holes in those hard rocks. As we moved and walked o those rocks our minds traversed the entire universe of thoughts and found the philosopher, the lover, and the achiever hiding within us. It is so amazing to realize and observe the forces and actions of the nature and draw inspiration from them. While to some the waves appeared to be the difficulties in life and compare themselves to the ever determined rocks unperturbed by them, others found the depth of the sea comparable to their own love and the stormy waves to the occasional wildness and energy in their own passionate story. Not to mention some who found the waves to be like a series of multiple orgasm, you experience while doing the activities you enjoy the most. Certainly there is something enigmatic about this. How easily we are lost and gravitated to an entirely different world all together.

We had to depart by 1 so we all hurried up to reach our hotel and packed up only to visit another beach 40 kms from where we were.

Reaching DiveAgar

We all moved from there to our next destination. Harsh as expected took the first chance to take the back seat with Rahul who had all alone drove 200 kms to be with all of us. And, it was quite expected of him to do so. After all he is one of the most active PGAite always ready for some new adventure. I wonder if anyone else would have been so passionate for a class trip to have rode a bike so far in such a hot sunny weather. Anyways, as we reached Dive Agar, we were way to hungry and after a lot of effort and discussions, we found some place to have satisfied our bellies which had been food deprived for more than a couple of hours. No wonder, we even threw stones to pluck some mangoes on our way and ran before the owner could find us. Tarnag’s height was particularly useful in this case. We were getting late so we hurried up to the beach through a shortcut which happened to be pretty interesting. Sana kept clicking all the fruits, vegetables and leaves which she found in the way and rest of us competing to be clicked. The best part was the way the hills and the pseudo jungle ended and we had a beautiful white beach right ahead of us. More importantly, it was even more beautiful than the previous one. Magnificent, Marvellous, Mind-blowing... The only words I could think of to describe the beautiful thing lying ahead of me.

As per the plans we were to say there only for an hour, but we all knew, it wasn’t possible. It had to be more than that. As usual some immediately ran into the wet sands, while others started walking bare feet on the sands of memories which were to be formed. Some of the adventurous kind took to the adventure sport while the lazy bumps like me took to a cart ride. We engraved “PG-A on the sands only to be eternalized into the lanes of the memory and so did some other names.

Suddenly we found a camel too and instantaneously HK and Vineeta went for a ride. One could clearly see the happiness and excitement on their face as the camel stood up. Milind and I took up the second round and reached just in time to be the part of the class picture which included all 29 of us. And it was certainly an awesome feeling to be in that pic on the top of a camel ;).
As the sun came lower on the horizon and was on its way to set, it was time. A beautiful and a memorable trip almost neared its end. We had to get out of the Hilly region before it went dark. So, we all walked back to the bus.

Return back to the hostel

All good things come to end, and so had our trip. Tired and exhausted, we all lay on our seats reminiscing the moments we shared in the trip. With some sudden bursts of energy a few of us sang to the tunes of friendship and inspite of our unmelodious voices, the songs we sang appeared to be better than rest of the world. I sat there in my seat looking out of the window and as the hills and the tress ran past behind me, I closed my eyes in an effort to capture all the beauty that lay around. It is paradoxical, but the times when we feel lonely are mostly when we are amongst a big group. Suddenly I did feel that unpleasant feeling of being separated from all those people who now are almost like a family. A family, with all the differences, yet possessing a strong bond which is unbreakable; a family which has been there at all the times of happiness and crisis; a family which will be measured not in 2 years or 730 days, but in those innumerable moments we shared together. Engrossed in my own thoughts I even typed up a short poem (which I posted a few days back) and slowly fell into the dark and bright world of sleep and dreams. Woken up by a jerk, we had almost reached Mumbai. We had our dinner and with some more episode of melodrama, action and emotion entered our hostel.

We all were both tired and fresh and not knowing what to do, I just lay awake on my bed, eyes wide open, thinking about the all the time we had in after coming to Mumbai and the little time left. I hope we have a few more such moments in days to come. Caught in the complex cobweb of emotions, I just had a smile which slowly faded as I drowned in sleep and could only think this,

“The PG-A trip was over.” But it was one of the best trips I ever had.

---Siram ( Lucky to be a PGAite)