Unanswered Questions

Let us ruin our lives together.

2010-07-18T03:49:00.000-07:00

Let us go for a walk to the beach one evening.
With bare feet and folded jeans,
we would walk hand in hand on slippery sand.
We would lock our eyes every now and then
and forget that a world exists behind our back.

For many days and many nights,
I've tried very hard to forget you.
If this is what it takes for peace,
I'd rather say that we play in hands of destiny
and let it ruin our lives till eternity.

My fountain pen.

2010-06-27T10:36:00.000-07:00

One fine morning I woke up to find your empty case,
I feared I must have lost you in haste,
But then you reappeared from the drier
Like Sita who stood the test of fire.

My companion for the worst times and the best,
I swear that I would keep you close to my chest,
You immortalize my words on paper white,
And judge me not on what I write.

PS: I by mistake put my pen in a drier.

Window of hope from a jammed window.

2009-12-06T02:04:00.000-08:00

Surreptitiously the mystical hope comes in the middle of the night,
She glides on the wings of mild summer breeze and knocks at my window,
Frustrated by the jammed window, She flies away to another home.

Disturbed by the dream - next morning, I push open the window,
Two giant buildings and a noisy highway lie in front,
No wonder the mystical hope didnt wait here overnight.

With my head resting on my palm, I look outside in thought,
And thats when I saw a beautiful home in red coloured bricks
and on the blue sky an aeroplane passes by and winks at me.

PS: 4 months before travelling back from Amsterdam.

Raindrops keep falling.

2009-12-05T18:52:00.000-08:00

I watch it drizzle from the comfort of my home.
As if it were a kid playing his own little game,
Pitter-patter it falls in a foreign language,
I say - "I know your cousin who pours in India".

Much more playful and much more child-like,
It wakes up from eight months of gestation,
rides on dark black clouds, screams with a lightening.
and arrives with a storm

I say - "you are a sober kid but your cousin is very naughty"
It jumps on my balcony and peeps through crevices of window
It even hides behind my girlfriends hair
and stays there for as long as it can.

On my 27th Birthday.

2009-10-31T22:06:00.000-07:00

Counting the apples on the trees,
I rest with my head on your knees.

Blessed is this garden that is so full of flowers
And soft are the hands that run across my forehead

But then an apple falls on my head,
and wakes me up to the reality

The garden and apple are all dreams,
Single bed and alarm clock is the reality.

The balloon.

2009-08-30T06:57:00.000-07:00

Held by a nail on the wall,
A gas balloon stands upright
And cries, "Let me go, let me go".

Out of ignorance or pure cruelty,
the rusted nail stares back emotionlessly
And asks, "Where do you want to go".

Lost in thought, the confused balloon,
soaks the mild winter sun
And breaksdown, "But I want to go, I want to go."

The Party

2009-08-30T06:44:00.000-07:00

The half eaten plate of Biryani,
The empty glass of Whisky,
The lost fork on the table
And the vacant chair in front of me.

They cannot speak to me,
But they can see me and hear me too.

Should I lie to myself?

2009-04-18T12:01:00.000-07:00

Right - Wrong
Fair - Unfair
Good - Bad

An answer to problem or a problem to answer.

Our Fingers Entangled.

2009-03-07T16:23:00.000-08:00

Eight fingers bunched together,
Lost on the dining table,
Free from the shackles of propriety,
and drunk into the pleasures of the unexplored.

The two thumbs, with some semblance of sanity,
felt the fingers and thats when they realize -
They are two different individuals and yet,
intertwined into one.

No talk on Gtalk.

2009-03-07T15:29:00.000-08:00

Wearing your grey coloured cloak of invisibility,
I am sure,
You must have seen me bearing a green torch.

But you,
Coldheartedly immersed yourself into your books of accountancy
and left me in the company of two dimensional people of tele-serials.

Face on the mirror.

2009-02-08T05:12:00.000-08:00

The only bicycle in the bicycle stand,
The empty bench in the metro station,
The solitary stone on the railway track,

And the only face on the mirror of my lift.

The last morsel of Pongal.

2009-01-25T12:11:00.000-08:00

It balances itself on the fork,
and waits like a bubble about to pop.

Never before have the ingredients
mixed themselves in such harmony.

And as I lift the fork,
I realise that I stare at threshold of two worlds,
One that had the pongal and one that did not.

Poetry in a Discotheque.

2009-01-01T04:45:00.000-08:00

Her hair hangs loosely on her strapped dress,
And her drink hangs loosely on her fingers.
Unknowingly, she entices with an unmatched ease.

In between all this,
She pulls my heart out of the rib cage,
and eats it like a delicacy.

I, speechless and heartless,
Literally and not figuratively,
Sway with complete irreverence with music.

Homecoming.

2008-12-23T10:17:00.000-08:00

Amidst the rustling of leaves
And the chirping of sparrows,
I hear footsteps approaching my door.

The door opens
And I hear my mothers voice,
"It is 08:00 beta".

I wake up from my sleep,
And I realize that today,
Even the air embraces me and welcomes me.

I am back home,
Yes, I am.

Too quick to be painful.

2008-09-28T05:00:00.000-07:00

The alarm clock sits ominously in front of me.
In five minutes time, it will explode.

Closing my eyes, I try to catch a few more winks.
Behind the closed eyes, I realise,
Nothing changes today but the date.

And I see my life passing; too quick to be painful.

Foolish Glass.

2008-07-31T09:36:00.000-07:00

There is this pane of glass
fitted next to the door of a tram.

On one of these days,
it stood in front of a pretty lady,
who had her cheek rested on her palm,
and had a faint smile on her face.

Unmoved by the image,
that pane of glass painted a blurred picture
of the cycle that stood behind it
and superimposed it over the pretty lady.

Witness to this savage insult of of beauty,
I wonder how foolish the glass could have been.

Crazy son of a bitch !!

2008-07-23T14:40:00.000-07:00

I should have said it,
But it's best left unsaid.

You should have understood,
But its okay if you didnt.

Expectation - this crazy son of a bitch,
spins a web around me and then it slowly feasts on me.

A character in my short story.

2008-06-17T14:08:00.000-07:00

Brown coloured chocolate sauce
slides down the mountain of vanilla ice cream.
Next to it, in silence, sits the piece of cake.
It watched you as you leaned towards me
and amidst the clamour of the coffee place,
whispered those magical three words into my ears.

It was a fairytale, or so I thought.
But today, I feel like I am one of the
characters in my short stories.
I speak words only that make sense
in the flow of the story.
A story that I myself am not aware of.

Reality on Drugs?

2008-06-08T15:10:00.000-07:00

Sipping my cup of tea in the morning
and staring out of the window,
I wonder what makes the day so beautiful.

I see beauty in the spiders web
as much as I see in the snow flakes outside the window.

It is hard to explain the overflowing serenity in this mileau;
the reality, it seems, is high on drugs.

....Or the music dances to my tune.

2008-02-24T09:59:00.000-08:00

I surrender to the temptation of music, smoke and spirit.
And Today, is it that I dance to the tune of music
or the music dances to my tune.

The problem though is that tomorrow,
I have to wake up in a world that does not play music all the time.

Stamping on Crumpled leaves.

2008-02-03T07:58:00.000-08:00

Stamping on the crumpled leaves
On a pleasant February afternoon,
Little did I know that there exists a Soul
who amongst other likings,
Enjoys this one too.

Days weeks and now months have passed.
And today, sitting miles away from you,
While unfurling the scattered pages at my desk,
I take a minute to stare out of the window.

I think about you and it brings a smile to my face.
Savoring the past And dreaming of future.
A few evenings well spent
Provides fodder for hope for the rest.

Muffler.

2007-12-23T10:01:00.000-08:00

A woolen muffler lies neatly tucked
under a heap of clothes.
Its endearing qualities pull me towards it
in the middle of the night.

Soft fluffy and neatly embroidered,
I hold it close to my chin,
Thinking about the wool and the
Lady who will wrap it around.

Words of comfort.

2007-12-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

Words have lost the magic of comfort,
that they once possessed.
Today, they are just disjointed words put together
to form a sentence.

I do realize the futility of all emotions
But still fall prey to it everytime.

A ray of light

2007-09-30T07:29:00.000-07:00

A ray of light refracts itself
On my half filled glass of water.
And draws a design on my
Wooden dinner table.

I rotate it at an angle
To see it form and reform
With a geometric precision
That no law of science can challenge
And a beauty
That no painter can ignore.

The answer to this enigma, some say,
Is emboldened in the bulky books of science.
And others say it is
Surreptitiously hiding in the Mysteries that make nature.

Frolicking in the Bubbles of Illusion

2007-09-30T07:19:00.000-07:00

Unaware of the charms that she holds,
I see her strolling with sandals in her hand.

She stops and inscribes her name on the sand.
Stooping at it, she marveled at the sight.
But then, the waves gathered momentum,
They intruded on her name and slowly washed it away.

In disbelief she stared at it
Till her mother distracted her with another game.
Nevertheless, she can blow up another illusion
And learn to live in it till it bursts again.

Har mulaakat ka anjaam judaai kyon hain.

2007-05-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

I stare at the trail of footsteps that you leave behind on the sand,
And wonder about the fleeting nature of time.

It was just a few moments back that I rushed in to catch the sun in front of my eyes
And now he has taken every vestige of light with it and sunk into oblivion.

Nonetheless, the waves still lash on my feet
And the cool wind blows across my face.

With a smile on my face, I hope to meet you again
And wish that I never run short of such days.

Sparrow on a concrete floor.

2007-05-21T12:50:00.000-07:00

Time is like that sparrow on a concrete floor,
It jumps,
It flutters,
You wish that it won't fly away,
But eventually it does.

Fool's Paradise

2007-05-21T12:43:00.000-07:00

With every drop that parts from my glass,
a fragment of my mind frees itself from the clutches of reason
and rises on top of my head.

And as the lights grow dimmer and the sounds turn feebler,
I patiently wait for the time when my head becomes light enough to float.

Fool’s paradise you might say, but who has seen the real one?

Unanswered question ?

2007-05-21T12:38:00.000-07:00

Listening to the music, I asked myself,
If I would have raised her hand and would have given it a tweak,
Would she twirl around and rest on my shoulder?

Hmmm, some questions are best left unanswered.
For, the answers would rob the mystically dreamy quality of the moment,
And paint it with a drab color of truth.

Boy at Juhu Beach.

2007-05-02T12:29:00.000-07:00

He jumps with the advent of every wave
and claps when it retreats.
He smiles blissfully
and utters words that he too doesn’t understand.

From the corner of my eye,
I observe this mirror that transports me to a world bygone.

I wish to jump with joy
But at best, I can only smile.
I wonder what restrains me.
Is it that I have learnt too much?
Or have I forgotten something.

Uncomfortable truth

2007-04-05T11:56:00.000-07:00

Don’t think about a lie so much that it begins to distort the truth.
Over the years, I have seen a facial expression change in my head.
And it is today that I gather the courage to acknowledge it.

If you don’t see a redemption coming, don’t expect it.
Gradually the deluge will leave your heart and run into your veins.

And slowly but surely it will also make you considerate enough to accept others follies.

Run...

2007-03-09T09:56:00.000-08:00

I have started believing that loneliness has assumed a face of a human.
He enters the closed doors of my home
And stares at me.

Should I sit in his company and see the time go by or should I run.

I will run..

Triangular nose

2007-03-03T11:20:00.000-08:00

Triangular nose and neatly sketched eyes,
In my definition you are the unconventional beauty.

Not the one that is outright beautiful for everyone to see,
But a mystery face that will not divulge all the secrets at once.

I am sure your face will intrigue me for days, if not months.

I am in love with the air that I breathe.

2007-02-18T11:21:00.000-08:00

I am in love with the questions that life poses everyday.
I sift through the options that I am rich enough to get.
And wait for time to unwrap the suspense that shrouds my answer.

In my perspective, some answers turn out to be good, some bad.
But all are worth the experience.
However, I would wish away the aura of indulgence that surrounds it every time.

Key to happiness

2007-01-25T12:48:00.000-08:00

Somewhere in the corner of my heart, hides a craving for a key.
A key that opens the door of a car, big enough to make me worry about parking.

It is like a parasite that feeds on my thoughts. With every passing day, it grows stronger.

It worries me.

But, I hope that time flies like the pages of my calendar and I realize the dream with a degree of gratification that justifies the craving.

Hmmmm.. What should I write?

2007-01-25T12:34:00.000-08:00

With a pen in hand, I look outside the window;
What should I write for you today?

I wish I could write a poem in a melody that you could hum.
Unfortunately, a written word confines itself to interpretations of your mind.
Words can only aspire to but would never be able to transcend the lure of music. *

* The last sentence is partly inspired from the novel ‘Last Song of the Dusk’.

Autumn

2007-01-04T12:06:00.000-08:00

Autumn had played its cruel trick again.
It sapped all the water from the leaf and
left the poor leaf at the mercy of the wind.

On one October evening,
mild winds separated the leaf from its branch
and then the leaf began its last journey to the dusty roads of Juhu.

Swayed by the winds it finally found its place on the pavements
along with thousands of other leaves.
Each having a story worth being told and heard.

Raindrops

2007-01-04T11:41:00.000-08:00

The rains had left tiny droplets on the window panes.
They stood calmly next to each other
until one amongst them got heavy enough
or I must say weak enough to resist gravity,
thereby taking many other smaller droplets along its way.

Reminds me of the day when love took me to a bottomless pit.
Rising out of which has even defeated time.

Loneliness

2007-01-04T11:24:00.000-08:00

Missing you has become a habit now.
The same lonely cup of tea,
the same empty corner in the room
and the same contagious loneliness in poems.

Ohh time, I wait for you and destiny to plot
and infuse a fresh lease of life into the monotonous
existence of a 24 year old.

Hope

2007-01-04T10:41:00.000-08:00

Days months and now years have passed,
the day that I was waiting for has finally arrived.
But now, I am worried.
I am worried because I know that the day would come and go.

Hope is something that I was accustomed to live with
Living with memories is something new to me.

Sometimes I wonder if I could just for a moment freeze time and live in it for eternity.

Combating conscience with reason

2006-03-18T13:19:00.000-08:00

On 17th of March 2006, Shrenik wrote,

This is a story of my dear friend Raghu and his long standing conflict with his conscience. I know Raghu since the time we were in nursery. He comes from a Gujrati family and is brought up with true Indian values like see no evil, say no evil, hear no evil; doing something evil is unthinkable. This story is about how he fought such deeply ingrained notions with a potent weapon of “reason”.

It all started on that eventful history period of standard IV class B in Palm Beach High School. Mrs Khatri with all her extra pounds of fats walks into the class. The classroom is buzzing with the rumor that Mrs Khatri is going to correct our homework. Like many of his class mates Raghu also hadn’t finished his homework. Raghu’s worst fears came true when Mrs Khatri announced “By lunch break everyone should submit their History notebooks to the class prefect. I will check all the question answers up to Mohenjodaro and Harappa Civilization”. Hell broke loose. Cursing his luck he thought to himself, “how can this happen, she never checks our homework and this is the first time I have not done her homework on time”.

Everything seemed to be lost till the time his friend, Nitesh Jhaveri, got hit with an ingenious idea. He said, “Why don’t we borrow history homework books from the neighboring class and give them for correction by changing the name. When they will want their homework to be corrected, we will complete our history notebooks and give them for correction.” Brilliant – that’s what the idea was.

In the lunch break Nitesh with all his accomplices went to the neighboring class for homework shopping. As Raghu stood between the doors separating the two classes, life asked him a question, probably for the first time, should I do something wrong to save my butt? He said to himself, oh lord, what a bizarre problem I am stuck into. On one side there is punishment from Mrs Khatri and on the other side is the guilt of doing wrong. At this point of disarray “reason” came forward. Reasons argument was, by doing a wrong thing, no one is at a loss. I will be happy because I will not get any punishment and Mrs Khatri will also be happy, because she will find that I have been doing my homework. Then, in the interest of Mrs Khatri and me, the decisions out, reason wins; I will get homework for myself. But what about my values; well, their definition got changed a bit.

Little did the little Raghu know that in the years to come, he will be confronting such problems daily. And reason, like a faithful dog would always come forth to bail him out.

However, of late, he is worried about the overwhelming influence that reason has over himself. He prays to god to give him the power to do what is right; isn’t it something that we all should do.

False Gods!

2006-03-08T10:55:00.000-08:00

On 8th of March 2006 Shrenik wrote,

It is 8th of March, another important day for card makers, flower vendors and HR representatives. Come 8th of March and the latent energy of all women comes alive through mails, SMS’s and newspaper articles. Woman is this and that and that too. But, do they you think there will be a paradigm shift in the direction of women’s equality in our life time? I would have loved to say yes.

Struggle for women’s equality is no different from any other struggle for rights. We can compare it with Black movement in US or even India’s struggle for independence or Dalit movement. In all these instances there is one thing common, it is the psyche of the oppressor. He believes that he has a moral right to command over the oppressed.

How do you fight such an enemy?
Simple, take control of ones own life by assuming responsibilities and revolting against practices that curb it. In other words self-reliance, with time it will instill fear in the enemies mind and then culminate into respect. However, the path is not that easy for women. In their quest for self reliance, a woman has to fight not just against the society but even their own family. Unfortunately this is the price they will have to pay for equality.

Woman in India carry the burden of living up to a lot of idols, ideal daughter, ideal sister, ideal wife and ideal mother being some of them. As a consequence of this, a woman looses her rationality and becomes a perpetuator of a crime she herself is a victim of. The day when she decides to debunk all the false notions that blind her, we will have a truly liberated woman.

Mumbai meri jaan

2006-02-14T09:02:00.000-08:00

Ae dil hai mushkil jeena yaha
Zara hat ke zara bachke yeh hai
Mumbai meri jaan.

Hear it from a Mumbaikar and it will always sound melodious.

9.37 down train from Andheri, I am late for it, but I find that trains are running 3 minutes late. I climb down the staircase avoiding fellow commuters. I reached the platform panting for breath only to find out that the trains are so packed that it had left very little space even for air to move in and out. Just when I thought that I would have to wait for the next train, that office going middle aged man, hanging precariously on the handle of the door made a 4 by 4 inch space for me to stand. I quickly pounced on that space and the train moved on.

Sounds familiar to you isn’t it. Yes that’s Mumbai for you.

What makes Mumbai so unique? To me the answer is that it is truly a city of dreams. It is a place where millions of men and women come in search for a better life. Traveling in a second class compartment of a local train, struggling to grasp that elusive gasp of fresh air - a dream is all that drives them. And why not, every family in Mumbai will have a story which will begin like; when my father came here in Mumbai he had 70 rupees in his pocket. It’s a dream many have lived and it’s a dream that millions think of living.

Walk from home to office.

2006-02-05T10:34:00.000-08:00

On 2nd October 2005 Shrenik wrote,

I stay at Andheri west near Bhavans College and my office is in Andheri east near Cinemagic theatre. Because of the close proximity to the station I prefer to walk to office, rather than taking any public transport. It takes about half an hour to cover that distance. Staying in a city like Mumbai where sometimes the commuting time exceeds the working hours, it is a privilege to go walking to office.

I generally leave for office around 9.30 in the morning. Place near Andheri station is crowded (even by Mumbai standards) at any time of the day but at 9.30 in the morning it is at its peak. People occupy every inch. Daily commuters along with hawkers and beggars leave only a few centimeters for BEST buses, rickshaws and private cars. These vehicles are also over flooded with people.

There are some unwritten fundas that have been known by everyone walking along these roads. Let me puke them out for you.

It is a crime to walk slowly on the road. It is okay if you are old and cannot walk briskly but if you are slow because you are confused about which place to go or you are a bit engrossed in talking to someone on the cell. Then you have committed a grave offence. You have actually slowed the human traffic behind you. As a punishment person walking behind you would brush you aside. He would somehow find gap between you and the person walking next to you and then try to make an eye contact with you to show that he is not happy with what had transpired. At best he would tell you ‘bageeche mein chal raha hai kya’.

Good-looking girls in mumbai are never seen around in this place. Maybe they are in cars or auto rickshaws, which is why we don’t see them. However somehow by gods grace if you do manage to see a good-looking girl, try not staring at her. For a change, look at people around you. You will notice that everyone is gazing at the same girl. Age is no bar.

Beware of people who have pledged to paint the city red. I meant paint the city red with beetel juice. They are like men on a mission; on some walls or segments of road they have hardly left any space. You should see the way they spray it from their mouth, almost like a pichkari in holi. Somehow if their spits finds your shoe or pant or in worst case your shirt, there is hardly anything you can do about it. You can just make an eye contact as an act of aggression. If he were in an auto rickshaw then he would pretend he didn’t know what happened and then use his power steering to go away from you as quickly as possible.

Crossing roads on this street is like a game between driver and peddler. The person who has more guts will find his way first. If the pedestrian has more guts he would cross the road in front of the slow moving car. In this case the driver has no other option but to wait for the person to cross. Same is also true for driver who refuses to slow down even when he sees people crossing the road. Traffic police is a mere spectator.

Hawkers have left only middle of the road for cars. On the remaining part of the road they sell everything right from vegetables to stationery to underwear. As per the supreme courts judgment there should be no hawker in 150m radius of any public place like a railway station or a temple. But going by this example we can safely say that hawkers are found only in 150m radius of the station.

On my way to office you would find beggars with all sort of deformities. There is a particular beggar I see everyday on the footbridge connecting east and west. He should be around fifteen or sixteen years of age. He has a back problem because of which he cannot walk. He sits on middle of the bridge with a black cloth in front of him to collect money. I call him the smiling beggar. He has befriended the hawkers on the bridge and I see him joking with them all the time. He is like modern day furniture of a city. Thousands of people pass besides him everyday; they have become immune to such sights.

My walk to office is also blessed with pretty sights. Like father escorting his kids to nearby municipality school. Seeing Grandmother play with her grandchildren in a STD booth, pretty girls praying to a stone idol of Ganesha in a roadside temple. Lovers managing to walk hand in hand.

Bas itna hi.

A new world order

2006-02-05T10:31:00.000-08:00

On 6th of february 2006 Shrenik wrote,

Recently my nana got admitted to the hospital. He suffered a massive heart attack and was put in ICU at Nanavati for two week. I used to go to the Nanavati to be of some help to my mom’s relatives. The ICU room there was a small room with three beds on either side. His condition got stable and was discharged from hospital. In the course of two weeks many patients got admitted to the beds next to my nana.

One amongst them was a gentleman with a beard. He was attended by his wife and his 18 year old son. Like us, he also used to get lots of relatives to meet him. It turned out that he was my school friend Mihir’s next door neighbor. Mihir had come down to meet his uncle in the hospital.

We exchanged customary greetings, abused each other for not taking time out to meet each other. I asked him about how well his neighbor was recovering. He replied that he spoke to the doctor and he was not very optimistic about his chances to recover. Mihir went on to say that his neighbor had a son who died in Kargil war. His neighbor could never recover from the tragic loss of his son. He used to keep his doors open in the night, expecting that his son would come back home someday. His health and mental balance went from bad to worse in the five years after the war. And now here he was in the hospital, if the doctors were to be believed, was living the last few days of his life.

This brings us to the focal point of the whole discussion, why did uncle and aunty loose their son. Was it a cause worthy enough to give up their beloved son’s life?

God didn’t divide the world into countries. Its humans, in their quest for power, carved out countries for themselves in the name of religion and creed. Of course, it gave people the power to control their lives without any external interference. But still, the concept of a country is only in the minds of people. Meaning in the eyes of god, there is no country, for him it just means men fighting. There is no place for nationalistic sentiments. All of us are sons and daughters of one world. The concept of a nation has bought only grief to us.

Consider the plight of millions of soldiers and their crores of relatives. For the soldier it is difficult to understand. He is fighting with someone with whom he has no personal enmity. In fact he knows that the soldier, whom he is trying to overpower, is someone who has a life similar to his own. It is just that circumstances have put them both in such a place. Both of them are fighting on the whims of the political leadership.

For the soldier it is still easy, a rush of blood for patriotism and death for the country. But spare a thought for their families; they have to live their whole lives with this fact. Parents losing their son, young women their husband, and kids their father. It is blatant murder of thousands of soldiers every year.

And, tell me, what these deaths bring to us. Are we giving the Kashmiri’s a better life, the answer is an emphatic NO. Half of the population of Kashmir is suffering some form of mental trauma. They will be happy if their fate is decided by a plebiscite. Only thing which we as civilians of India stand to gain is the pride that Kashmir is still a part of India.

Is it worth it?

Insecurity and insatiable thirst for power gives rise to military strength. Over the years military strength metamorphosed from traditional bows and arrows to today’s sophisticated nuclear missiles. But the reasons for going to war still haven’t changed. Battles like the one in Kashmir are not to be fought on the front; they need to be fought with diplomacy. Leaderships of both the countries should come forth and show the courage to take tough decisions.

There will come a time when, just as discrimination on the basis of religion caste and creed is unacceptable, warring on basis of a country’s viewpoints will also become unacceptable. Stop this mindless killing and think about alternatives to war.

Unfair world!!

2006-02-03T08:37:00.000-08:00

It’s an unfair world, Shrenik. I will not get sucked into this quagmire of emotions of love and friendship. I renounce all my friends for acquaintances.

Shrenik’s Friend

On 3rd of february 2006 Shrenik wrote,

My friend explains that the chances that a person likes you as much as you like him are very dim. Either it is less, in which case you stand to loose or it is more, in which case your friend stands to loose.
(i.e if you consider love as a commodity which can be received or given. Die hard fans of Yash Chopra’s brand of love can save their time by not reading this)

It is unfair but something which everyone has to grapple with. I put my thinking cap to analyze the problem he had proposed. After much thought, I could chart out a solution to it.

Think about a man living in Stone Age; wearing leaves around his waste. He must have thought to himself, will there ever be a time when there will be something which will prevent people from wrongdoing like killing raping or even snatching food. As time passed and men got more civilized, it gave rise to something called as law. What the law did was that, it raised the cost of perpetuating a crime over the benefits the perpetuator would derive out of it. In other words law made, committing a crime unappealing by attaching a fine in the form of imprisonment with it.

Similarly, think about a man living in medieval ages, a time in which there was gross inequality in distribution of wealth. A dhoti clad farmer in Punjab must have thought to himself, will there be a time when I will be empowered to pull myself out of this drudgery of poverty. As time passed and men became even more civilized, through tools of democracy and sciences of capitalism and socialism, he has nearly scaled that barrier.

Now, try to understand the reason why I have mentioned the above two examples. Both the examples are pointing towards one united goal, equity. If you commit a crime, you have to pay the penalty for it. If you are not privileged enough to be wealthy, the system should facilitate that you have an equal opportunity to become one.

Try and find a solution which will bring equity to all the concerned parties in my friend’s case. Cannot find! Probably because there is NO SOLUTION to it! It’s a game which god subjected us out of his insecurity. Otherwise why would anyone remember him?

Just when I thought that there is no solution to it, I got a very futuristic idea. To explain it let me deviate a bit further. Science, if the pace at which it is advancing, I think in the next 100 years we would all become immortals. In its course it has explained something called as a DNA. It holds characteristics of a person.

Now imagine if a DNA can be used to check how much two people like each other. For example if person A likes person B with affinity of 9 on a scale of 10 and if B also likes A with affinity 9 then BANG, we have found the perfect match. Only if they have an equal or acceptable amount of differences in their affinity levels, should they proceed and share love. Else they can do it at their own peril.

Will this make the world a better place, or it is better with the slight imperfection it has. Hmmm….can’t say.

Conversations in hell !!

2006-01-31T08:49:00.000-08:00

On 13th of November 2005 Shrenik wrote,

Tell me, how many times it has happened that in between two conversations there is a lull period when no one has anything to talk. It is fine if you are talking to a good old friend but it becomes a bit uneasy if you are talking to an acquaintance. This gap makes us uncomfortable and makes us speak things which they won’t say or ask otherwise. If this has happened to you before then read on, else you are lying.

This problem has been diagnosed by many but there is no fool proof solution to it yet. In junior college my friend Rohit, gave us tips on dating. He advised us on restaurants to go to, food to order, food not to order, things to say, things not to say. And, most importantly he spoke about what to do in case if there is silence in conversation. He said, say one simple sentence, “Silence is golden”. It worked very effectively for me till my girlfriend misinterpreted me. She thought I was asking her to keep quiet. Ronan Keating can get away with singing “You say best when you say nothing at all”, not me.

There are some who just ask any random question. Like my friend Astha, while the rickshaw traveled from one signal to another she came up with an interesting question. “Preeti, what is the colour of walls in your office”. Preeti is also equally competent. She replied light blue and came up with another question. “Have you tasted mava cake at Merwans?” Astha replied “No”. Stop, silence again. End of another conversation.

Another example is my engineering college friend Kiran. He was 6 and half feet tall then, now he must have crossed 7 feet. Gravity has played its part by placing his brain cells in different part of his body. (Don’t ask me which) In times when we used to precariously hang on to handles in crowded BEST buses and find nothing to talk about, he used to pitch in some brilliant questions. “So who do you think is a better actor Salman Khan or Shahrukh Khan?” Felt like I was filling his slam (or scrap book, whatever you people call it) book. Over the years his level of questions improved with his KT backlog. “So who do you have a crush on Parvati or Tulsi”. In our graduation year, he asked, “So who is sexier Britney Spears or Jennifer Lopez”. Uncles and aunties already cramped for space in the bus were not amused with his questions but they tried to listen to our discussion though.

These questions are much better than listening to my friend Mehul's research. While going back home from college, we used to sit on upper deck of Route no 123 of BEST. Sometimes our bus got stuck in signal. Mehul had an ingenuous idea to avoid signals. He said that if your bus is approaching a signal which is red, you should concentrate at the red light of signal, it will turn into green. Meaning if the signal is red, stare at it and it will automatically turn into green. He had tried it many times and it worked for him.

Funniest of them all is when I meet my relative that is if at all I have to sit next to them in some function. I greet them with my customary smile and ask them kem cho (Gujju equivalent of “How are you”). According to convention the person answering has to say maja ma (fine) even if he might have got multiple heart attacks. Then he will ask me, “Su kare cheh beta” (what are you doing son)? I am expected to reply, I am working for Bla Bla Bla company. 90 % of the conversations end here. Very rarely there is anything else to talk. Yes, during my cousin’s marriage I had to confront another question, “So you are next in line”.

Perhaps the smartest way to avoid such things is to stay quiet. Pretend that you are thinking. If he/she still disturbs you with one of those filler questions and statements then ignore him. Or best come up with your very own thought out version of filler statements. Say things which the other person will never understand. Something like “in long term the inflationary powers of the economy won’t be able to sustain growth at the macro level”
It will serve dual purpose, make him/her believe that you are very intelligent and put across a point as to don’t irritate me with nonsense questions.

If you have any other way to deal with this then tell me. I will try it out and tell you if it works.

Dog's life !!

2006-01-29T05:22:00.000-08:00

On 29th of January 2006 Shrenik wrote,

What is this life full of care,
there is no time to stand and stare

These are the famous lines of a poet and a poem whose names I don’t quite remember. But, the point is that it makes so much sense. Look at us either we are talking or eating or working. There is no time to sit and stare at the wall in front of you or enjoy the small pleasures in life.

I feel animals and birds live their lives in a much better approach as compared to us, humans. Take for example pigeons. Pigeons in my locality have their grains from Kalpana auntie’s house and water from my flower pots. Besides shitting on the cars they don’t have any thing else to do throughout the day. Isn’t it a wonderful life!

As for a stray dog; all it does is hunt for food in the day and look for a companion in the night. Sometimes he is lucky enough to get both but sometimes he has to be satisfied without any of them. And more importantly, in that process he doesn’t carry any baggage of the past or any expectation from the future. No remorse at snatching someone else’s food and no self pity on being denied his share of food. Live each day as it comes.

You know where majority of men who lead such lives are – in the jail. I don’t know what sort of behavior I am encouraging.

Honestly, I think when god made us, he expected to live just like animals and birds did. By mistake he gave us brains and since then problems have been never ending. The world has become too complex a system to understand.