Dreams we shall never ..never see again

A thousand desires such as these
A thousand moments to set this night on fire
Reach out and you can touch them
You can touch them with your silences
You can reach them with your lust
Rivers mountains rain
Rain against a torrid hill’s cape
A thousand
A thousand desires such as these

I loved rain as a child
As a lost young man
Empty landscapes
Bleached by a tired sun
And then
And then suddenly it came
Like a dark unknown woman
Her eyes scorched my silences
Her body wrapped itself around me
Like a summer without end

Pause me hold me reach me
Where no man has gone
Crossing the seven seas
With the wings of fire
I fly towards nowhere
And you
Rivers mountains rain
Rain against a scorched landscape of pain


OST Hazaaron Khwaishien Aisi

A dialogue with the Almighty

Poore ka poora aakash ghuma karke baazi dekhi meine

Kaale ghar mein suraj rakh ke tumne shayad socha tha mere saare mohre pit jayenge
Meine ek chirag jala ke apna rasta khol liya

Tumne ek samanadar haath mein lekar mujhpe dhel diya
Meine noah ki kashti uske upar rakh di

Kaal chala tumne aur meri janib dekha
Meine kaal ko tod ke lamha lamha jeena seekh liya

Meri khudi ko tumne chand chamaktkaro se maarna chaha
Mere ek pyaade ne tera chand ka mohra maar kiya

Maut ki sheh de kar tumne socha tha ab to maat hui
Meine jism ka khol utar ke sounp diya aur rooh bacha li

Poore ka poora akash ghuma kar ab tum dekho baazi…

-Gulzar's words in Naseeruddin voice

Lost in transalation

The old curtains have been fraying its edges for sometime and the quilt hasnt seen better days for a while now, the empty floor has dust basking over it with a gleam of light creating a mystic essence, but the faith in it, remain undiminished, even after the debacle in the rational, I am hurt but wiser now

The futility of pain and the crisis around is the cause itself? Or because they know something which I don't. Whatever it is, I am living on" and I would rather live where there is threat everywhere and be part of whatever is happening. I am not reactionary, the threat of pain cannot conquer me."

The boutique is in the crystal glass; the liquor has to look, taste and smell good. The seasoned taste buds now have aged to the level of perfection, reading its year of make in the back of silence.

I have stopped recognising my authentic selve and become a caricatures of who the world think I should be. The silence is helping create the much awaited space and time for the thoughts do its roller coaster frill. The essence of transformation is not only non-judgmentally witnessed, viewed and acceped by me, but also interacting with myself.


One of my unfinished works which is in search of its characteristic audience in black or white is reaching the brim of its journey. With every passing day, life has turned itself as a ordeal experimental journey. Broadening my horizon with every stroke of the brush. I'm painting my own colours in life now....

A journey into an unknown.

The friends and families aren't quite sure how long it will take. they just know that there's nothing more they can do for him and now it's just a matter of days, if he is plain lucky, well who knows... we wake up and pray everyday. I've been wondering about this. what's it like to clutch your hands to the brim of the top window surface of your prison cell to get a glimpse of the setting sun and wondering how many more you will get to see? what's it like waking up before the sun takes on and walking through the memory lanes, the breeze cuddles you in your perpectual essence of living all of these and thinking, I won't be there tomorrow to experience this?

A day before the execution he goes through a harrowing experience of being weighed, body measurements, the size of the neck, measured for length of drop to assure breaking of the neck,, . followed by the evening where the gallows and manilla rope are well examined to ascertain if they have received any injuries by attaching to one end a sack of sand.

As the night approaches the darkness smuggles into a heavenly and magical sleep; it's the same with his life for eternity and none appreciate someone in this state of silence. So what have I left unsaid?

Did I give my best in everything I did? Did I love someone more than self and be loved back? Did I follow my heart?

These aren't deep, profound or complicated questions, each is simple in its own way, but the answers to these are the most difficult. as every time you hear that little voice inside your head while you self question - the complex of ethical and moral principles that controls or inhibits our actions and our thoughts - usually called a conscience,

Dream quotient an inconceivable, unthinkable thought becomes reality, quintessentially at this stage each character in life takes a new form and the space to re-visualise experience, they are all around you. The protectors, the confidantes and the executor, your tinsel-town timetable which always appeared to be booked to the brim. have fallen out of the clock and will be empty for the rest.

No one is guaranteed life, its just a matter of fate, chance, luck and destiny. Life changes in seconds of realisation. Looking at walls, staring at them as if trying to figure out what went wrong. hard to believe that once a successful man who was passionate in every thing he did and lived a enviable reputation amongst his people is now living the last slated day of his life.

Extending from dawn the day breaks into light as he is marched to the scaffold guarded by the head warder and six warders, two proceeding in front, two behind and one holding either arm on reaching the scaffold the warrant is read in vernacular to the convict and lead to the scaffold with the convict and he is placed under the direct beam to which rope is attached.

The executioner straps his legs tightly together, place the cap over his head and face and adjust the rope tightly around his neck. The noose is just about placed one and half inches to the right or left of the middle line and free from the flap of the cap. The light just fades off and the elocution of thoughts run through into the blindfolded darkness.

The warders holding the condemned man’s hand to withdraw at that time and with the signal from the Superintendent the executioner draw the bolt.

Its that final moment of his life but also his last words. Some proclaim their innocence until the end; some seek forgiveness from the families of their victims; others make no statement at all. with a thump of noise its all a tremble. While the witnesses look on, in the first few minutes a considerable shock waved through his body followed by a slow and agonised death by strangulation and asphyxia

He remains dangling from the end of the rope from 8 to 14 minutes before the medical examiner, who climbs up a small ladder and listens to his heartbeat with a stethoscope declares the life extinct. A prison guard stands at the feet of the hanged person and holds the body steady, because of the agonised death by strangulation and asphyxia. The body remained suspended for half an hour and shall not be taken down till the Superintendent returns the warrant with the endorsement to the effect that the sentence has been carried out.

The only answer which can be given for justifying this infliction of mental and physical pain and suffering is that the condemned prisoner having killed a human being does not merit any sympathy and must suffer this punishment because he 'deserves' it. No mercy can be shown to one who did not show any mercy to others. But, as I shall presently point out, this justificatory reason cannot commend itself to any civilized society because it is based on the theory of retribution or retaliation and at the bottom of it lies the desire of the society to avenge itself against the wrong-doer. That is not a permissible penological goal."

A couple of hours back a man was shimmering the last ray of his life through the rails of his prison cell, imagining the sunset outside, and knowing that this was the last. knowing that in a small way, the passage he will be travelling has just begun, A journey into an unknown.

Jaanu Na

jaanu na, main jaanu na
janam maran ka bhed hai kya, main jaanu na
jaanu na, main jaanu na
dharam adharam ka bhed hain kya, main jaanu na
jaanu na, jaanu na
main kaanth ka putla, kuchh bhi jaanu na
jaanu na, jaanu na
yeh khel hai kaisa rub ka, jaanu na

jaanu na, main jaanu na
janam maran ka bhed hai kya, main jaanu na
jaanu na, main jaanu na
dharam adharam ka bhed hain kya, main jaanu na
jaanu na, jaanu na
main kaanth ka putla, kuchh bhi jaanu na
jaanu na, jaanu na
yeh khel hai kaisa rub ka, jaanu na

jaanu na...

OST Eklavya

Diaphanous!

Airports are always an intresting place with an over cloud of expressions one could capture.

This is while I was at the airport to greet someone and something sneaked up on me unexpectedly.

This one occurred a mere two feet away from me. Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other's face, I heard the father say, "It's so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!" His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, "Me, too, Dad!"

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother's arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father.

The man said, "Hi, baby girl!" as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his son and declared, "I've saved the best for last," and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed, "I love you so much!"

They stared at each other's eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands. For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn't possibly be.

I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional expression of love right in front of me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, "Wow! How long have you two been married?"

"Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those," he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife's face.

"Well, then, how long have you been away?" I asked.

The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. "Two whole days!"

Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he'd been gone for at least several weeks, if not months. I know my expression betrayed me, I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), "I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!"

He stopped smiling and looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, "Don't keep hoping, friend ... decide!"

Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, "God bless!" With that, he and his family turned and strode away together. I was still watching that exceptional man and his special family walk just out of sight when my friend came up to me and asked, "What'cha looking at?"

"My future," I replied, smiling.

Author/cafe

Jhede Kasho (regional lingo)

I am a not a religious person and I dont know much about my religion, neither do I say my prayers regularly. I have been brought up to believe in a higher power. And although I don't want to say I share a cosmic relation with God, Spiritual encompass a wider arc of diversity as the voyage of discovering self continues in an exploration of the next wave of influences and if your basics in place, the peripheral doesn't matter.
It is spirituality with the connection of Force. Do I have that connection? I don't know as yet. I certainly know that I am being constantly looked after by this superpower. Somebody up there likes me.

I have the focus in life, I see my goal clear and more important I know how to work hard. Miracles never happen in real life they are actually the culmination of persistent efforts. I hear people around say I live with an Attitude and call me an introvert and that I take time to find my comfort zone. I have never cared about what people say or think about me. I am way too relaxed to waste my time doing this.

It is important to differentiate spirituality from religion though they are related and intertwined, While honouring science and the mind, our cultural tendency urges us to devalue belief and mystery. For modern, academically oriented professionals like us part of our addiction to the busyness of life is an attempt to prevent ourselves from thinking about our mortality, the inevitable fact of our own death. But when we keep ourselves too busy to consider the purpose of our existence, our lives cease to have meaning.

The most difficult questions are the spiritual ones. What is the purpose of life? Where does real meaning come from? What is of real value in our lives? If there truly is a God who loves us, how could there be so much suffering and unfairness in the world?

If this is a difficult situation. 'This too shall pass' as they say, tough times don't last, tough people do.

And I am aware of the fact that I am at peace with myself and live only with one regret. And that's what ultimately matters.