Ever since independence, India has witnessed many revolutions, many agitations from across princely states and non-princely states as well. India, a country made up of more than 500 princely states, was hard to bound under the crown of a single Central Government. But somehow, Sardar did his duty, using his inherent skills in converging India into one. But thereafter, India has continuously faced problems from States and different community, asking for a new state or altogether a new country. Nizams of Hydrabad, Bodo Land in Assam, Naxalites in complete Red Zone or Mizoland problem of Mizoram or the Gujjar activists in Rajastan or take it Khalistan in that case. Just because of some small mistakes of our four-fathers, we Indian people are today, facing some serious problems.
Across the world, we can hardly find thousands of people just herd themselves over the railway tracks!!! I mean, don’t they have any sufficient work to do, and keep themselves busy than to agitate against government? Complete Railway System of our country has hampered because of the Gujjar protest. It has taken the whole country to the stir.
Last time when, Gujjar demonstration came up, and they demanded something, Government approved 1% reservation for Gujjars. But why? If you soften your finger grip, these people are going to grab your hand itself, and then your body. And the result is in front of us, now they are asking for 5% reservation in government jobs. Believe me, if government shall grant this particular demand, these Gujjars shall come up again after a short time interval to shake the country for no good reason.
And for this, a small Gujjar delegation team is going to meet government official in Bayana Town situated in Bharatpur District today, i.e. 30th Dec, 2010. This group of Gujjars is a team of around 20 people headed by the leader Mr. Kirori Singh Bainsla. This Bainsla has got a different story altogether. You go to any posh area of Jaipur, Delhi, Amritsar, Faridabad, you shall find them, for sure, with huge villas and bunglows and lavish cars. I don’t understand, from where they are getting so much money, and second though they have such huge cash surplus, why the hell they are agitating against the government, and hampering the country.
My projection:
Government will definitely negotiate with the current demands of Gujjars, but they will for-sure fulfill something. Now, this is bad. Supreme bad. If your sub-judice against non-government party, they are going to come up again after some time, to rape government again.
30 December, 2010
Shimla – this new year
Shimla witnessing lowest temperature of the season of around freezing point! And so, businessmen are happy.
Dal Lake is frozen, for the third time in history. Earlier, Dal was found frozen during the recoded years of 1964, 1986 and then now 2010. Instead of bone-breaking cold, tourists are flocking continuously in Srinagar. Mercury has dropped down to -6 degree Celsius. All these because of Western Disturbance! And this low mercury over northern region has resulted chilly weather in middle parts of India as well. Shimla has witnessed snow fall for last two days, and this has resulted in the happiness of local business people. Tourist around the India have started flocking in Shimla since last two days, majorly, and due to the snow bed now, more tourists are likely to come. According to me, all major hotels and resorts are full-booked and second and third tier accommodations are on the verge of getting packed.
Snow bed has resulted in extreme climate, but tourists coming from all over India are hardly worried of the cold, rather they are coming especially to witness the snow fall and enjoy the solitude.
Along with normal tourism, cross-selling would happen for sure. Viz. Snow Ski, Snow Boarding, jeep safaris, et cetera. There are certain vantage points in Shimla and in nearby areas, from where nice ecstatic view of Himalayans can be observed. Innate beauty and pristine climate in December, especially due to snow fall, has made Shimla a prime destination for the celebration new year. 31st December, this year around would witness, new heights of adrenalin rushes across the tourist folks in Shimla. Pristine climate, innate beauty and spectacular mesmerizing vistas - with snow clad silver mountains: Shimla - I found it intrinsic.
Dal Lake is frozen, for the third time in history. Earlier, Dal was found frozen during the recoded years of 1964, 1986 and then now 2010. Instead of bone-breaking cold, tourists are flocking continuously in Srinagar. Mercury has dropped down to -6 degree Celsius. All these because of Western Disturbance! And this low mercury over northern region has resulted chilly weather in middle parts of India as well. Shimla has witnessed snow fall for last two days, and this has resulted in the happiness of local business people. Tourist around the India have started flocking in Shimla since last two days, majorly, and due to the snow bed now, more tourists are likely to come. According to me, all major hotels and resorts are full-booked and second and third tier accommodations are on the verge of getting packed.
Snow bed has resulted in extreme climate, but tourists coming from all over India are hardly worried of the cold, rather they are coming especially to witness the snow fall and enjoy the solitude.
Along with normal tourism, cross-selling would happen for sure. Viz. Snow Ski, Snow Boarding, jeep safaris, et cetera. There are certain vantage points in Shimla and in nearby areas, from where nice ecstatic view of Himalayans can be observed. Innate beauty and pristine climate in December, especially due to snow fall, has made Shimla a prime destination for the celebration new year. 31st December, this year around would witness, new heights of adrenalin rushes across the tourist folks in Shimla. Pristine climate, innate beauty and spectacular mesmerizing vistas - with snow clad silver mountains: Shimla - I found it intrinsic.
Winter Haiku
Sitting under a high-rise pine tree at “The Ridge” in Shimla, feeling the serene clear climate I wrote a few haiku’s with hushed mind.
P.S.
Haiku is a non-rhymed verse genre, having approximately 5 syllables in first line, 7 in second and 5 again in the third line, making a sum of total 17 syllables. But, it’s no specific rule to follow it. It’s just the sound that matters and not the words. What all matters in a Haiku is, that words has to be juxtaposed. It’s a traditional form of Japanese Poetry Art. And believe me, it’s the smallest, the tiniest literary form. In Japanese Language, Haiku means “Playful Verse”.
The most important and the only element of Haiku is it’s related to CLIMATE. Its Japanese analogous is “KIGO”.
P.S. 2: Extreamly sorry for writing P.S. at so early in a page.
P.S.
Haiku is a non-rhymed verse genre, having approximately 5 syllables in first line, 7 in second and 5 again in the third line, making a sum of total 17 syllables. But, it’s no specific rule to follow it. It’s just the sound that matters and not the words. What all matters in a Haiku is, that words has to be juxtaposed. It’s a traditional form of Japanese Poetry Art. And believe me, it’s the smallest, the tiniest literary form. In Japanese Language, Haiku means “Playful Verse”.
The most important and the only element of Haiku is it’s related to CLIMATE. Its Japanese analogous is “KIGO”.
P.S. 2: Extreamly sorry for writing P.S. at so early in a page.
walk walk
dry streets fail to squeeze me
snow fly
first cold with the shower
white cranks flutter high from the sky
Making me wobble all over
Long pines over and above
sun camouflages behind the silver silhouettes
shrubbery foliage standstill
out of the window snow falls
strength inside my body kills me
white everywhere I look
new year
still here
Long and forlorn
my soul
gold to grey to white
a walk in the snow
steaming brewed coffee
my hand arctic cold
snow still throbs on the asphalt
cows mooing
out in the snow
i look out shivering
shivering of snow he barks
enjoying of snow he howls
brooding still I am
out in the hamlet
snowmen without the groin
standing life less
black kiln
sparks orange in the day
snowy white when I see again
late at night
the black tree turns white
night at night turns late
day in the bus
evening on the boulevard
night in the fleece
haystacks’ outside the barn
urn clouded with the snow
standstill there I was
20 December, 2010
An Autobiography of My Mirror
On request, i wrote two different essays on the Topic "An Autobiography of My Mirror" for my friends. Both have got different masochism of a writer, different facets, different sides. Dedicating to my ISB&M pals. Here they are.
The moment of my consciousness, when I am utterly alone, but I do not, feel lonely, my very own being becomes the whole, in the straits of her. This is the longing of me; this is hidden in my deepest, innermost core that makes me happy. And she’s the sole reason, my beloved.
Her always, captivating and bewitching smile, makes not only me, but the whole world happy. I expect clear sky, but receive velvety umber sky with crimson horizon. As I sit face to face with the buoyant charismatic smile of hers, I down under and go around for a spree of contentment. Just because of her, this present never kills me. I am so lively, so much in this world, so living apiece. I always get drenched in the infinite explosion of love that she showers over me. I make her look good and she makes me feel good. We are parasites made for each other-a purity of love. Her jubilant colours and ecstatic emotions, euphoric mind over elation, all the day, makes my every day. She is a rhythm, a classic tone sung in a high pitch. A blissful delight!
Every morning, when she wakes me up, light waves and shadows fly over the caring bridge. A bridge that binds us! The resilient power and the inspiration transcending over the same caring bridge between us; she gave me words, she taught me to speak words, she made me see this world, and she made me to live life. Though I’m hung over on a grimy ceramic, I have never felt in my life like I’ve become standstill. No never. Just like staff notations, I’ve gone far beyond the yonder to see this world, through her eyes. When she catches me over the day she showers the softness of a flute and during the night, I get sodden in the decibels of a saxophone. She hums straight into my heart, touching my emotional cords and makes my day. Though, I’m brittle I’m not vulnerable; in the solitude of her, I’m safe than ever. My soul erupts, as she glances over me, over my riveting shining beauty and smolders over with the scent of fuming ashes. I ooze out the slithering beauty, doesn’t matter what the time is; in her sole retreat. Whenever her cerulean thoughts emerge out, when she cry’s or laughs in front of me, lingers and touches me, makes me feel me and I a parasite of her succumbs in a reverie, and surreal waves of thoughts out of me, making a cloud, relinquishing my passion for her, and the ardor just touches her. At that time, I could not be more than myself.
Our relation, of a non living being and a living being, so pure and so strong! So that, none shall cross, none shall break. We’re in relationship, forever. Our relationship, like fine gold spun inside, with the warmth and fragrance of this sweet earth, like seven colours of heaven, high in the sky.
Day and night are the antiquity of life, and I am just one. I exist and I fracture, I laugh and I shine. I am fragile and I am vulnerable. Just like human beings, even I am this earth’s product. But he hates me. I want to see a sparkle in his dark black eyes, but what I see in his eyes when he sees me is the same darkness, and I feel like a secluded cloud of fog transcending over the horizon; losing my existence. And I listen to the same sound of silence, the same tranquility and serenity in his eyes. I have become so stagnant, and this stagnancy has made me gone lost. I want to see this world, just like any other living flesh. But he don’t even touch me, my life has become futile. I am wholly lost. I m so beautiful, I m so glittery and shimmering but I want human being to touch me. I want him to touch me, to feel me. I want emotions to ruin me, to belligerently squash me.
At dawn, I seek for the rays of life, to enlighten me, to wake me from the slumber of this mean world. At twilight, I don’t exist. Darkness is my ally. With every sun that dips, I feel like a Martian in a far-off shore. And when it’s dark, it shines. But he doesn’t. He hides everything from me. There’s always a lot to know from his Pandora’s Box.
Whenever I see him see me see him, I feel happy. But still, I am unable to sparkle his dark black eyes. Still, I can only find the same masochism of being a mortal, just a mortal; who is lost in the manacles of this neutrophilic world entangled in the nets of his own thoughts. And because of his so behavior, I feel like haunted, for a flicker. So that I can rejuvenate myself with the superfluous oomph! He, a bête noir is profane of his own thoughts, I can see in his eyes and that makes my odyssey an ordeal. And I cry in the hues of my lost emotions. Some eerie thought process in me says, “I do believe, but can’t act”. I am the same mirror, no breaths, no flesh, no emotions and no sentiments. And still I am bluntly proclaiming that I want to live my life, not with a fugitive. I want to probe down into the drenches of his heart. I want to linger around his pulsating heart and want try to make him urge. My own very reason of life levy’s no weight on my existing of being; all because of him.
I make people happy, I make them look good, I make them look beautiful. But this mean world has devastated him. I seek awakening, I seek enlighten, detachment and serenity, I believe an unexamined life is not worth living. I want to make him feel good. Amen.
1.
An Autobiography of MY MIRROR
The moment of my consciousness, when I am utterly alone, but I do not, feel lonely, my very own being becomes the whole, in the straits of her. This is the longing of me; this is hidden in my deepest, innermost core that makes me happy. And she’s the sole reason, my beloved.
Her always, captivating and bewitching smile, makes not only me, but the whole world happy. I expect clear sky, but receive velvety umber sky with crimson horizon. As I sit face to face with the buoyant charismatic smile of hers, I down under and go around for a spree of contentment. Just because of her, this present never kills me. I am so lively, so much in this world, so living apiece. I always get drenched in the infinite explosion of love that she showers over me. I make her look good and she makes me feel good. We are parasites made for each other-a purity of love. Her jubilant colours and ecstatic emotions, euphoric mind over elation, all the day, makes my every day. She is a rhythm, a classic tone sung in a high pitch. A blissful delight!
Every morning, when she wakes me up, light waves and shadows fly over the caring bridge. A bridge that binds us! The resilient power and the inspiration transcending over the same caring bridge between us; she gave me words, she taught me to speak words, she made me see this world, and she made me to live life. Though I’m hung over on a grimy ceramic, I have never felt in my life like I’ve become standstill. No never. Just like staff notations, I’ve gone far beyond the yonder to see this world, through her eyes. When she catches me over the day she showers the softness of a flute and during the night, I get sodden in the decibels of a saxophone. She hums straight into my heart, touching my emotional cords and makes my day. Though, I’m brittle I’m not vulnerable; in the solitude of her, I’m safe than ever. My soul erupts, as she glances over me, over my riveting shining beauty and smolders over with the scent of fuming ashes. I ooze out the slithering beauty, doesn’t matter what the time is; in her sole retreat. Whenever her cerulean thoughts emerge out, when she cry’s or laughs in front of me, lingers and touches me, makes me feel me and I a parasite of her succumbs in a reverie, and surreal waves of thoughts out of me, making a cloud, relinquishing my passion for her, and the ardor just touches her. At that time, I could not be more than myself.
Our relation, of a non living being and a living being, so pure and so strong! So that, none shall cross, none shall break. We’re in relationship, forever. Our relationship, like fine gold spun inside, with the warmth and fragrance of this sweet earth, like seven colours of heaven, high in the sky.
2.An autobiography of MY MIRROR
Day and night are the antiquity of life, and I am just one. I exist and I fracture, I laugh and I shine. I am fragile and I am vulnerable. Just like human beings, even I am this earth’s product. But he hates me. I want to see a sparkle in his dark black eyes, but what I see in his eyes when he sees me is the same darkness, and I feel like a secluded cloud of fog transcending over the horizon; losing my existence. And I listen to the same sound of silence, the same tranquility and serenity in his eyes. I have become so stagnant, and this stagnancy has made me gone lost. I want to see this world, just like any other living flesh. But he don’t even touch me, my life has become futile. I am wholly lost. I m so beautiful, I m so glittery and shimmering but I want human being to touch me. I want him to touch me, to feel me. I want emotions to ruin me, to belligerently squash me.
At dawn, I seek for the rays of life, to enlighten me, to wake me from the slumber of this mean world. At twilight, I don’t exist. Darkness is my ally. With every sun that dips, I feel like a Martian in a far-off shore. And when it’s dark, it shines. But he doesn’t. He hides everything from me. There’s always a lot to know from his Pandora’s Box.
Whenever I see him see me see him, I feel happy. But still, I am unable to sparkle his dark black eyes. Still, I can only find the same masochism of being a mortal, just a mortal; who is lost in the manacles of this neutrophilic world entangled in the nets of his own thoughts. And because of his so behavior, I feel like haunted, for a flicker. So that I can rejuvenate myself with the superfluous oomph! He, a bête noir is profane of his own thoughts, I can see in his eyes and that makes my odyssey an ordeal. And I cry in the hues of my lost emotions. Some eerie thought process in me says, “I do believe, but can’t act”. I am the same mirror, no breaths, no flesh, no emotions and no sentiments. And still I am bluntly proclaiming that I want to live my life, not with a fugitive. I want to probe down into the drenches of his heart. I want to linger around his pulsating heart and want try to make him urge. My own very reason of life levy’s no weight on my existing of being; all because of him.
I make people happy, I make them look good, I make them look beautiful. But this mean world has devastated him. I seek awakening, I seek enlighten, detachment and serenity, I believe an unexamined life is not worth living. I want to make him feel good. Amen.
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