I oppose Anna!

A conversation about the Anna stuff going on. a facebook status update.

bargaining to fast! in a country where millions go to bed hungry, day after day. obscene.
This whole drama is really kafkaesque - Na Anna Gandhi hai, na yeh ek revolution hai. It is just a tamasha, perhaps to let people lose energy and to take the wind out of the sails of the movement, such as it is. People wil get fed up and leave after a few days. Do you think he is like Irome Sharmila?

and neither was Gandhi as wonderful as he is cracked up to be....this should really be the first lesson we learn from this nautanki. Anna is a wonderful Gandhian....and that is why it is Gandhianism is bad politics! Non-violence is all very well, but that is not the only thing good Gandhi preached....

i read as much as i can about sharmila and yet know very little about her; she is a terrifying reminder of all that is wrong with the way our society treats marginalized women. few humans in our collective memory can share her moral stature as a person demanding a better society with single minded determination, wielding the only weapon she has -her body. no, i would never compare her to anybody.

there is nothing non-violent about fasting (not the 24 hour, or few days kind). it is self-inflicting violence, in my world, that is pure violence. i had two siblings who at different periods in their adolescence refused to eat food for days to convey their displeasure, anger, frustration with the world. the family was completely terrorized by their actions. gandhian (as something peaceful) is not a word that could be used for those two teenagers (then), they never hurt any one else physically, but their demonic will power to go without food counts as some of the most psychologically violent days of my childhood. briefly, fasting is inherently violent to self and others. gave the above anecdote to avoid giving a biologist's answer for the same.... and why do we always associate the term gandhian to fasting? fasting as a human behavioral device must have a much older history, no?...... fasting and wasting away while grieving for loved ones occurs in all cultures, doesn't it?

Passive aggressive violence is an art-form, it subtly uses politics, and cherry-picks moral stands to perpetrate itself from a higher moral grounds. Passive-agressive violence does not recognize structural violence that state policies and injustices create on the marginalize, Non-violence the way it has been constructed in our psyche is not absence of violence but absence of simplistic enactment of visible physical act of violence, but surreptitious, macro level, structural level violence was all allowed. Therefore Gandhi looked other side when Bhagat Singh, who fasted more than him unceremoniously, was hanged (state-violence) when famine was causing genocide in Bengal and Gandhi was cooperating with the British by asking Indians to join the British troops for second world war. Gandhian violence kills more people than A hurting B with the back of coffee mug. The art of obfuscating macro violence is the essence of Gandhian micro level overt non-violence. and it is a scam in itself.

gandhian thoughts are influenced by the Bible. Being a christian myself, i know much of the quoted lines by him come from the Bible. he twisted and turned the words and made ppl believe in them that is very wrong. first. second. fasting for a cause comes from the Bible as well. it was meant to give away the worldly lusts, and concentrate on what the Almighty has to offer. also, never publicise ur fasting. here, goin on an 'anshan' i feel is getting into fashion today. public display of ur so called accepted pain. that old man has few years to live, and wants to cover up his past deeds trying to do this lokpal thing.

also, India is surviving without that money in the swiss banks. we sure need that for a major upliftment. i agreed wen baba ramdeo did start the process, and that wasn't some stunt. atleast it didn't fell like a publicity stunt. anna's ways do. corruption must be removed from the minds of ppl. its not just about money, its abt changing the way things have worked till now. what r they going to do to bring the top chairs under judiciary wen the very foundations have rotten? the grassroot level working needs to change, so it can worked up the chairs.     

Into Me

There is a reason, a reason to smile,

But somewhere in darkness it does hide.

I catch it, but it runs away,

Leaving an eye wet, and the heart wanting..

I feel so close, but I’m far away,

Mere words are no easy way.

A kid in me wants to be free,

I understand, not many that see.

Rest in the pages of my handwriting,

The emotions, find their way citing,

In words, phrases, and four lines,

They grow up on me like grape wines.

I’m scared to let open,

The doors to me very often.

Someone gets in with a master key,

A smile that’s all for me!

A Subtle Emotion

I wonder these days how cold I’m;
walking in the sun I feel my skin cold,
deep down and high above, its all same.
Times may pass by, but I stand, like a rock.

Still and motionless I’ve become,
the world races around, faster.
Each day is nothing more than a battle,
with myself, with the change, the future.

Bloody times, stained streets, silent voices,
I hear them scream, they wail, they cry,
I don’t know how, but I want them by,
I see a tear dripping as the lights flash.

None can change, this rock in me,

the core in me wants to be free.
There’s just one hope, the only Rock,
My Saviour, I await for thee.

This is Home!

The title is a song from the soundtrack of the movie; The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. Much of the emotion in this article is probably going to be from the song. As I write this, the song plays in the background to help me write. Home; A place where everyone feels safe. A place which one can call as his/her own. I write this in a realm a little higher than what we live in, a little serene, a little heavy on the heart. So what place can we call a home? The houses we live in? OR where the heart dwells? There is a superb saying in this English language; Home is where the heart is! 

Medical Quarters

So are we dwelling in bricks and mortar or flesh and feelings? Here’s a little part of my life. I spent my childhood, the first 14 years of my life, at a place addressed as C/o S. W. Nimbalkar, Matron’s Quarter, Govt. Medical College & Hospital (GMCH), Nagpur – 440003. As I write this, my heart lingers over the memories that have been spent in that home. Good, bad, beautiful and ugly. I was born in the vicinity of that place and was raised up in that house. It was a rented place, by the government to my aunt. We all lived there, the whole family. 

I have my memories back from when I was about 6 yrs old. Little flashes of a time before that too exist as I try to recollect. I once fell off my tricycle from the little slope we had. I had buried my little parrot under the guava tree who used to call my name when my school auto came. Now, spell-check says the bold word should be that, but my parrot was a person for me, not a thing. Those were my nursery school days. I remember soaking the Sun sitting in the porch to have a little extra Vitamin D! Running away from the home to ride bicycle with my friends, falling and hurting my knee on the newly tarred road where I was bleeding till 15 mins. Locking myself in the store after I had a fight with everyone else, and my dear doggie Kareena who lived there for 8 long years and breathed her at last the same place where she was kept on the first day. 

The Fortress of Solitude

I remember all that, also my Grandpa on whose tummy I used to bounce. And also many negatives which made the good parts seem much sweeter.  That place is now no more, my aunt got transferred and now she’s here in the Fortress of Solitude. I call it so because no cellular company is able to provide a network signal inside this place. There is a huge canopy of trees covering this house in their protective coverage. And tomorrow onwards, even this will be lost. I did not like this place earlier because of the network problem, but my last trip to Mumbai made me think over it. This place is isolated, calm, quiet, feels serene. The lack of cellular coverage shields me from much of the dirt in the outer world. Here I get to be me. I get to think, I get to write; in peace. This and may previous articles wouldn’t have been written if it were not for this place. 

People spend their life in building a house but fail to build a home. Some never find one, and those who do, rest in peace. I have just started to take the sail of my life in my own hands, let’s see where the winds of life take me along! These places I thought as a home, were temporary, may the final one which I arrive at, be the perfect one! Hopefully, God’s home. To all the sailors, trying to find HOME, may your journey is a memorable one. For it is not the destination, but the path we choose.  

Then someone might sing the song that's playing here, 'Now I'm finally where I belong, I've been searching for a place of my own, yeah this is home!' 

Happy Journey! 

A walk in the Rain!

The waters slashed by my territory,

Leaving the deep fragrance in the mist,

I was left in the memories of the past,

And the angel came and held my finger last.

We tread along the wet curbstones,

I watched the breeze blow around us,

And all went still when you held breath,

Fell in love even that evil Seth.

Those little pearls rolled down your cheek,

Making the dew lose its charm,

And the hush you left out, covered;

The surrounding and me within, stirred!

The planes roaring by hidden in the bushes,

I see lights glowing in that beautiful darkness,

Your eyes play a spell in just a glance,

It’s time, baby, for a rain dance!

Pain

What happens when everything you’ve worked for comes crashing down all at once?  How does it feel when the people you are supposed to trust don’t believe in a word you say? How does it feel when the entire world around you is doing some cheap tricks to show you are cared for? Experience that feel, that pain. What happens when there is a crowd cheering for you, but you wish just one person showed that happiness from deep within? Pain. The world we live in is filled with pain. And it was not given, it was taken. Sin entered humanity, and it corrupted us all. 

Well, this world of mine is supposed to be happy all the time, but nothing is perfect! We have few dashes of pain in this happy sky.  Pain is not bad. It tells us the importance of being happy. Then it becomes perfect. A little pain is necessary in everyone’s life. WE all have pain, but doesn’t it make the happiness that comes after worth it? We all have a chance to grow out of it. I read a thought in an article today by Mr. TGL Iyer; The worst problems can’t be solved, we have to outgrow them. Pain comes from problems we face, we must grow so big, that the problem looks puny.

Growing up. Now don’t we all hate it? Especially women! (No offences) They use all that crap in the market to look young, to look beautiful. Are we living in a society that has become so materialistic? I was standing in a queue today waiting for my turn at the cash counter where everyone around me was yelling of being late. Well, I took that few minutes to get my grey cells working. Observing people. Saw a lady who looked quite happy after giving the counter boy a headache; a concealed smile yet expressing how hurt she was! A big time poser. I wonder how her husband handles it! Then there was another woman angry on hoe the other lady got skipped from the queue. But then I saw this young lady, I was observing her earlier too, looked kinda calm. I saw her fishing in the basket right beside the counter with jigsaw puzzles. (Another person making use of time) I thought she was a kindergarten teacher getting stuff for her school lessons. It was not for her kid, as I saw no ring, and she was with her mother. Similar faces are easier to identify. I love such people. Making use of their spare time, being happy in a mess.

I don’t know if that was related, but I meant to share it anyway. Here another shot, talking about materialism; we always want something in return, always keep on counting things what the other person has done. I felt pretty selfish today. Before the earlier memory, I was called upon a pretty girl at the red light, her cranking engine was irritating me, but when she called, I had to look at her. Now she was pretty. I could tell that from the faces of the other young guys who saw me helping her. She was pretty dumb too. Actually. She was out of fuel and no money. I had to tow her to a petrol station few feet away! Later we exchanged names, lil info and about to leave, and I asked her to contact me. Here the guilt seeped in. It could have been a random act of kindness. But I wanted something in return, I involuntarily did that. Now I wish she doesn’t return, she could just have this memory of me as a stranger who helped her. She would do that to someone, sometime in her life.  We all want something in return; we can grow out of that. Expectations hurt; so does pain.

This person was in a problem, she had a little pain in asking me for help. I eased it. Somebody she might meet in the future might have pain, I hope she remembers me, and helps him; without a second thought. The lady at the mall was calm. She outgrew her pain. She found out something to do useful with her time, other spend that energy in yelling. This world of ours we want people to notice our pain, not the happiness. Why is that we wish to gain love through pain and not happiness? Well I guess that is because negative emotion though available in plenty gets attention.

Here is a little piece of advice. Pay attention to what your dear ones say. Let them have their piece of attention. Tell them you love them. You care for them and exercise it too. Then it is possible to achieve harmony within oneself and between others. Signing off, Mr. Khan. 

Let's Fly!

http://www.humanitiesweb.org/gallery/9/6.jpg

Come let’s fly, into the sky high,

Never ask me, “Why?’

To you it may seem a lie,

But in His mighty hands I lie.

A bird soars in that sweet mist,

Let us too (two), go & have the sky kissed.

The heavens abound with beauty,

The Sun performing his last duty.

Come let’s fly, into the sky high.

The heavens, closely let’s watch,

Greatest heights together catch,

Come let us soar,

To the heights & the land abhor.

Come let’s fly, into the sky high,

In sometime die !

Fly Away ! Say Goodbye !

The Falling Star

I guess I need to let this out of me. I’m dying in the inside. There are just too many thoughts rushing inside of me. I need to do something. I have succumbed to my inner self and I’m collapsing. This Star, this Abhijeet is falling. A relapse; all of this darkness. I have left nothing inside of me. I’m struggling hard, hard to be someone. I have my heart filled, my veins bursting out loud. There’s no pain, no sensations.  It’s just me, alone, fighting with this terrible me inside me. It’s terrible. I can’t understand a thing. I have no one to confide in. No one to trust with my heart, my feelings, myself. Here are my words, if they reach to you, pray for me. The world is getting crazier around me. It’s sleepless nights, tired mornings, broken insides, hurting body. It’s a terrible time. And it’s looped. It’s getting the best out of me. It’s making me empty. It’s breaking me down, the star is falling.

The star, the shining once. It’s suffocating me. It’s eating my insides, it’s making me hollow. My mind is seeing places. My heart.. oh I can’t feel that! My conscious keeps me away from filth. My name means a conqueror. How I’m I going to conquer this mountain?  I’m the Vega in the Lyra constellation, the baseline for other stars, I’m a scale. A measurement for others, or better, a reference. I’m the zero value, the balance between positive and negative. I’m something.  I’m the eagle, I’m the messenger of light, conquer.

Mumbai

This world is big; large to many of us. People, millions in number spend their times in different circles chasing stuff, doing things they had never thought of, happily or with a responsibility, sadly. There are a hundred or million things a person wishes in this entire lifetime and many go unanswered. The world is a chaos, a systematic chaos. The universe has so many mysteries stuffed in it that it might seem like a seashell at times or an entire sea. The way we look at things, the way they become for us.

The Heart: CST

I’m in this city called Mumbai, for the past few days, and it seems I’ve seen the whole human race. Mumbai, a city of dreams and desires; a city of Gold. It’s like a mother who encompasses every visitor as her child with ease.  This is a complicated as well as a very simple organization. I have in the past few days seen almost every level of this city with my bare eyes, trotted the city roads on foot, bus, autorikshaws, skywalks and I love it. It’s not my first time in this city, I’ve been a regular visitor as a child here, and in the past two years, I’ve been turning up here alone, doing as my heart says, reaching up to the scent of the mist this city offers, and rushing the bloodlines of the city, the Locals.

The city offers no heat, as my homeland does but gives you a holy bath of sweat, which every person in here shares equally. There is no reason I could hate this city for, not even for the pocket picker who robbed my friend in the blink of an eye. These city dwellers thrive on whatever they can think of, from begging, to pocket picking. The city offer space for everyone here. There is crime, but not because of some mischief, but in the race to survive. In the matter to live life, one way or the other.

I have lived in areas, high and low, every other day, JJ Hospital’s secure and lonely fortress, Thane’s high rise building apartments, Andheri’s skyscrapers, King’s Circle’s Central Government flats, and even Navi Mumbai’s bungalows. I came here for automobile parts, cheap ones for a project of mine.  I travelled unknown paths moving in locals, busses, air conditioned ones, sitting on the floor to the double Decker ones. Not forgetting the two toned taxis and rickshaws which cost me fortune. Treading all the three system mainlines, the Harbour, Central and the Western, the path was one great memory. People coming in and out like animals in a barn, stuffing the big metal boxes to carry them to their loved ones, this is a regular scenario in the city hub. But once you get a chance to take your head out of the silent rowers and you feel a touch of divinity, forgetting the pain and the filth in the air, you feel a gust of wind throwing itself on you all the time and the sweat is washed away. It doesn’t matter then who is to your right or left or who is thinking what, it’s just you and you alone. Lost in the air.

The ride is not always the same. Oohs wait here. Whom am I writing this to? The people of Mumbai? What’s new here? You experience this all the life. But this is not just to the Mumbaikars, the jumbled up mess of people from all the parts of the country who come here with a hope in their hearts to write a page of destiny or let the destiny open up a page for them. This city never disappoints anyone; no one goes empty handed from here. The city holds all her children near, so this is not to the Mumbaikars alone, but to the whole world.

I have seen the faces of the most privileged people getting out from their fancy cars into the huge air conditioned malls, but with a tinge of disappointments, even tears in the fluffy couch of the Café Coffee Day to the small children beside the police bogies under the bridges with a carefree soul. Happiness is what we create for ourselves. I’ve heard of lovers getting cozy in their homes from a sneaker in the opposite high rise to watching couples intimately kissing under the shadows of the rocks at the beach. Caught a look at young foreigners basking in the evening sun and seen grandparents discussing life with their children’s heirs.  This city has it all; Ambani, to ShahRukh Khan to some Hameed Bhai selling auto parts, and a Sultan serving coffee at the great Ataria Mall. People are being looted over the name of jobs, while the crying ones with lost wallets enjoy the cool air at Mc Donald’s.

This city loves everyone. And so this is a small story. A little part of what I felt. Salutations to the spirit of Mumbai!

Quarter Life Crisis

So here I’m back on the typing pad, insisted by my inner self to write. This chapter of My World is about many things, things that come to your mind in loneliness. As it’s what I feel, what I write. I’m in a place where there’s little or almost no cellular coverage, So I’m away from the wilderness of the internet and the flashy, luring, glittering social networ’king’ status. I’m back to school, writing stuff. It has been a long time I have actually written. Yesterday, while travelling though I remember, I wrote some short poem. And as every time, I don’t remember a word I wrote. It’s done, written, my mind is empty and so am I.

This article seems to be going good way. Well, not moving away from the topic, before I forget what in the first place I was going to write, I begin here.Quarter Life Crisis. A term defined by a close friend of mine. Just as the elders do have their mid-life; 40’s crisis, she explains, we young bloods do face a similar situation. The need to be recognized, have an identity, be known, career issues, lot of stuff that at one time we feel we’re sinking. The earlier we realize we have a boat with a hole or many holes in it, we should learn to swim.

I don’t know where I’m headed to, a shared article or an inspiration or guidance! Well, this is me in crisis! I I’m still trying in vain to connect to the internet, but I guess we’re determined to share some stuff. This is how crazy I’ve become. I keep mumbling in sleep. So much stuff is revolving in my mind. I have got into frenzy! I need a bit of relaxation. I need to complete what’s on my hands and should not take more. But what to do when it falls from the sky?

My crisis: indulging in many things. I’m responsible, trustworthy, confident, possess leadership qualities, I have so much to offer, but these take to the point of no return. I make commitments, start up things but when they pile up all at once, it’s hard. It’s irritating, makes me feel like a loser. I’m trying hard at it, hoping to do well. Just concentrate one thing and stop not till it gets completed. But I get on a high at times. I must be calm, but, I’m a young blood, it should be boiling! Then it can create a change. This is my madness. I have the solution. Know the problem yet I’m lingering in the bad spot. God knows what rescues me now.

But here is why I defend myself: To complete one task, I need to go to several others to gain momentum and resources. That makes me more chaotic. I have a new born company with a direction but no resources. I have one big project to do: my dream machine to build, I’m getting upset over the thought that I lacked the courage to confront my failure, and it’s quite late now. I have to repeat what I already did, and keep doing better at academics. I have to stop my extracurricular, well, that’s what all are saying, but I’m into thoughts of how can I stop doing what I love to. I love to do stuff I love to do. It’s that simple!

I believe that every person gets an equal share of trials and problems, it just in different cases, yet maintained by equilibrium. I guess I’m falling in love too, maybe with a girl I don’t want to be with or with a new kind of a person. I’m practicing almost zero spirituality, trying hard to keep my faith burning, need to be strong again. Freedom is one essential element. We need to be trusted, believed in. We want to do things on our own, fall and learn to pick ourselves up. We need a new world of equality.

The times have changed. It is a quite bitter world now. The fight to be noticed, in turn the anger of people has increased exponentially.

This phase is getting worse. I don’t know what I am going do for the two years of my engineering life. As they say, the years pass soon, but not the days. Days become long and years become short. One thing maybe; Fear. I need freedom. Buzzz.. No more stuff. KISS. Goodbye!