The Shore and the Waves

The crimson red horizon calls out, and I see you;
We hug, smiles unable to fake an excuse...
The warm sun shines down as we continue our banter
Tales, old tales, our tales, your tales, my tales.
The sunny morning when we met, and smiled,
That rainy afternoon when we had the time of our lives,
The breeze flowing by, wishing us good,
Tales of us, the beauty, the serenity and the peace...
"Peaceful beauty", and people think we make that;
Ask the greenery around, they will tell...
The evening sun is cool, as slumber does not disturb us
The breeze flows by, smiles and greets us.
The most splendid display of graciousness, the moon, makes us smile.
As you decide to retire, I think,
My existence cannot be static, I cannot exist without you,
You never leave me alone, and I know,
Ask your sand and he will tell.
I want to be a part of you, I yearn,
I reach out for you, you are there, yet I have to return.

The Unassuming Hypocrite (3)

It was half past seven when he reached home. It had not really been a happening day. It was not that "happening" was like the theme of his life. A sedate life, very few people around him, and he liked it being that way.

He switched on the radio, his sole companion since the very beginning. It almost sort of got his state of mind every time, and he believed in this.

"Kabhi dekho man nahi jaage, peechhe peechhe sapno ke bhaage..."


A rainy winter evening, and the hypocrite had just returned from a fortnight's vacation.

The Hypocrite: Hey.. What's up ?

She: Hello. Nothing much. You say...

The Hypocrite: [pause] I just landed. God, how I wanted these two weeks to get over.

She: But why ? Wasn't home good ? You so wanted to be back at home.

The Hypocrite: You will not understand sweetheart.. Hold on.. I have a call waiting.

[switches calls] hey Mom. I just reached... yeah... as in an hour back.... was unpacking, thought I'd give you a call once that was done.... Will do that mom...

9937948494

The Hypocrite: Hey, you disconnected ?

She: Yup, you had another call waiting for you right. You done with it ?

The Hypocrite: Yup. That was mom.

She: And you are done speaking with your mom in a minute ?? What ???

The Hypocrite: But I was talking with you right ? I can always call her back later.

She: You can always call me back later too. You are impossible.[disconnects]

[pause]


[phone rings] The hypocrite turns around, picks up his phone; "Yes mom. I just returned... Will call you back in a bit"

"Wahi chunkar khaamoshi yun chale jaaye akele kahaan".

He smiled.

...

The Unassuming Hypocrite (2)

"Bindiya lagati to, kampti thi palken maeeri...."

Lips moved and he tried to do a Palash Sen as he walked into the foggy streets of deserted Calcutta. Fog was generally not a very Calcuttan thing, but then, we always try to imitate others (most people would hate to admit that). It was as if Calcutta was imitating Dilli and trying to make Dilli lovers nostalgic.

"Whatever..", thought the hypocrite. This was his nemesis. He never had been his greatest supporter. Every thought of his had "REJECTED" written all over it and every explanation had "NO" stamped all over.

It was a rainy evening and the hypocrite had just shifted. A new session had already begun. 9937948494.

The Hypocrite: Hello

She: Hello. What happened?

The Hypocrite: You do not sound well. Everything alright ?

She: You are utterly impossible. It seems that the world ends for you every moment, right ?

The Hypocrite: I was just concerned.

She: Well, I was sleeping. You must think before thinking.

The Hypocrite: Alright. Did I wake you up ?

She: Not really. I would have woken up anyway.

"Whatever" !!! The hypocrite thought and continued walking.

"Ab kya karoon... kaase kahoon...e maeeri..."

He did not do a Palash Sen this time.

.....

The Unassuming Hypocrite (1)

The unassuming hypocrite looked out of the window towards the road which ran by his house. It was a small little pad which he had gotten built for himself, tidy, and just as he would have liked it. A wall adorned with photographs most people would look at and smirk. But then, he liked them.

As the radio blurted out, "a love that will never grow old", the unassuming hypocrite looked out again. A scooter passed by and he blinked slowly.

It was a cool summer evening when the phone rang;

The Hypocrite: Hello.

She: How have you been ?

The Hypocrite: Kinda good. What difference does it make when you are not around ? Every freaking day is as monotonous as it can be.

She: Okay. By the way, I had been to our college today.

The Hypocrite: [pauses][deep breath]. So ?

She: My scooter broke down and he dropped me at home.

The Hypocrite: Okay. And I thought I would have been the first one.

She: You are impossible.

Indeed, he was impossible. But then he was affectionate as well. It was a paradox that very few people liked him.

He shrugged and decided to go for a walk.

....

Lose Yourself

Dear Jogi,

Here's another one for you.

"...Je bhabe drishyo anek gilchhe amay roj,
Shekhane adaal peyle, bhangchi aami; hochhi je nikhoj,
Jekhane dak pathale mrito deher bhide,
Shekhaane tulchhi chhobi, dolchhi neshay, aaschi abar phire..."

You have heard this in fact. But then there was this certain portion which I liked and thought you would like it too. Remember the day when you had called me up, distressed and out of all bounds? That was some day, wasn't it ? What happened Jogi ? Where have you been since?

Remember buddy, the first day ? A shadow walking right up to your room and you not being scared even for a moment. Phew !!! We almost talked the entire night out.

Remember the day when you had come back home, and the days that followed ? Remember Day 1 at Kharagpur ? You were ecstatic. You were such a talkative little soul. Remember when you had explained me the principles you stood by? You almost had me do the same for myself.

Remember that vacation buddy, when every square inch of home seemed like heaven ? Remember that morning at Kharagpur when you had woken me up just to whine about not being at home ? Remember that morning at Kolkata when you had gone berserk shooting and talked about it for one full week ? Remember those Vellore days last year ? You didn't mind the hospital so much, as long as we had the time to talk.

I know I wasn't there that day Jogi. But does that make things so difficult ? Why haven't we spoken in many days Jogi ? Do you not miss me ? You have a life Jogi, I don't. I need you for my sheer existence. I need you to be me. You complete me all the time.

Come back Jogi.

Ciao.

Day 1

Dear Jogi,

Kalyani Menon sings, and my ears ring.. every moment.

"Maragadha-thotti-lizh..
Malayali-gal thaaraatumm,
Penn azhagaee..maathang-gal tohpugalil
Poonguyilugazh-inna-chernna,
Pullangulazh-oothugai-yaana
Ninn-azhagaehhhh..Ninn-azhagae.."

Though I don't understand most of that, I can sing it... And probably that's because of my immense love for all the Dravidian languages. I love all languages for that matter.

Yeah, coming back to the ringing ears. Ever since that afternoon when I watched Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa (stress on the extra "a"s, they make every Indian word longer than it sounds), I have been taken over by that movie. I even consider it as one of the most beautiful movies I have ever seen. Let's make "beautiful" a category. Along with that there are other categories too, like intelligent movies, funny movies, and all those cliches that I do not need to repeat here and I am sounding like a complete moron , so I am going to stop.

Loved VV, loved the camera work, the use of light was excellent, the sets were designed so well, the choice of colours was wonderful too.. Believe me, I am a photographer... I understand these things.

Was not a very wonderful day for me though. Indeed, I was excited. IIT is no small thing, but a two hour train delay, two more hours of power failure made it a not so wonderful day after all.. Days have mostly been wonderful for me ever since 2009 began...

Loved Kharagpur.. those old houses, narrow roads, the colour of the houses, the people, the environment, everything did me in. Yes, I must admit, i have fallen in love with this town, the town that will ultimately decide my fate.

A few other things have also been running through my head. My ipod hasn't been showing a good running time.. 10 hours. Earlier it used to be more than 14 hours. or wasn't it properly charged ?? Hmmm, have to check with that once I settle down. How will I handle tomorrow ? Lets hope I get a single bedded room, but a two bedded room won't matter either.. The people getting in along with me are all smarty putties, so it will be great to share a room with any of them.

Now, should I also carry my laptop and camera with me when I go for the registration ? Pople will think I am a fool, but then how do I guarantee that they will remain safe in my hotel room. The hotel itself does not guarantee that. ("Please take care of your own belongings !!!" printed in bold letters). Ok, I wont take them. we must trust our fellow beings Jogi dude.. Don't be so paranoid.

Lots of hope for tomorrow.. lots of plans.. a new life... a new new new life.. I hope I can put my past experiences into good use and make this new phase a beautiful one.. Looking forward to making new friends and looking forward to not studying biology.. Phew.. man, 2000-2009, a long time.. An amicable divorce it was, finally :) But then, we'll always remain friends Biology :)

Ciao...

Jogi

Diaries of an atheist

when the child folded hands and prayed, he thought,
who is this prayer going to, when will it reach him,
and how soon will he answer them ?


a caressing hand almost always replied, "the answer will come son, it will come. from the one up there who takes care of you"..
"he is your friend, and is with you always. you are never alone in this world"


consoled, the child went back, he played, he lived and he grew up,
he never felt alone, he always had the answers to his questions
and solutions to his problems.
"he is always with me", he thought and got back with life,
never really with the zeal to know anything else.


the child grew up into a boy, the boy to a teenager,
the teenager witnessed war, he witnessed riots,
he always felt, "religion makes big news"
when he read newspapers cluttered with stories
of wars, of pacts, of negotiations, of camaraderie,
all between and among religions.


every year, every month, every day, he heard a thing or two about religion
about the better god and about the lesser god.


he grew up in his teens, he saw the nightmare, the darkest hour
when pregnant women were mercilessly raped and killed,
when little girls witnessed their modesty being humiliated,
he saw houses burn, and with that the whole country,
he saw people make money out of it.
he saw debates, discussions and panel evaluations.


he saw religion make a mockery of human life,
he saw godplay devastate a woman's home
he saw passion turn a child's innocence to cinders. he felt sad.


he felt sad. his immaturity did not allow him to dissect the issue,
his innocence did not allow him to blame people
he just felt sad. a sadness that would linger in his mind for eternity.


he completed adolescence, he matured, he could analyse things
he could make out what was happening around,
he could understand peoples' fortunes, their misfortunes and their mistakes.


the lingering sadness haunted him. he had nightmares and he had hallucinations.
he thought and thought for days,
he analysed, he dissected,
he concluded.


the sadness still lingered. it still lingers.
the sadness that no consolation could pacify, that no situation could neutralise.



the sadness of being born in a religion...



and now, when he tries to counter that sadness, he calls himself an atheist.


"mom was probably right, "he is with you always. you are never alone in this world"",
he remembers and smiles.