forgotten dream

After too many snooze alerts and repeated shouts from my mother, I finally had to wake up to a sulky morning. Mornings have been full of sullenness for quite some time now. These days I wake up to my surprise, or rather the shock of how possibly can the sun rise so soon after the sunset, well probably that is because I don’t want the sun to rise at all.

This morning was a little different because it woke me up with a dream that I was hoping I’d remember for the day, so I could share it with ekta over the phone, but somehow it just vanished. I tried pushing my mind too much, so I could remember even an iota of what I saw, but all the trials went in vain. What I knew about the dream was, that it wasn’t a good one, probably one of those dreams that rather make you feel bad about things, and since practically I wasn’t liking any bit of the day, it kind of proved itself, that it wasn’t a great dream after all. But I was definite that I’d call up Ekta today. I managed to hop out of the suffocating bus, full of people. At least I could see only people around and especially those who were sweating a little too much. I saw ladies shouting at the bus driver for absolutely no reason, small children whining away to glory, which I found meaningless and all this probably was coming only to my sight. The silver lining in the cloud was absolutely lost that day.

Managing to jump off the bus was a task in itself. Then I set my feet walking towards the workplace for the day, and all this while I came across a lot of stuff like a vagabond who was performing extraordinary hip hop on no music and his friends who were encouraging enough to tell him to try for a dance reality show, and while I was watching him dance away to glory, I wanted to throw away my bag and join him, even though I did not know how to move a nail on hip hop, but one thing that I knew was that the little boy had nobody to stop him or direct him to a different place where wouldn’t want to go. But I had too many masters who’d question this stupidity of mine and so I decided to get off this distraction and walk ceremoniously to my office. While I was walking up the fleet of stairs, I saw one of the senior persons shouting out loud on a meek little junior; at least he looked like one. I shamelessly tried to hear what had happened, and even though you could not hear the conversation very clearly, I got the hang of what it was all about. It was the funniest episode I came across in this office where someone was trying to dominate over the 2^nd party only because the 2^nd party, who I assume is a junior, had missed on a call by that apparent senior.

Though it was funny to hear the baseless conversation get wilder by the minute but it was somehow getting on my nerves. This was the limits of dominance and suddenly my bad experiences with my boss began to replay in my mind and like a movie flashback it brought back the anger in me. It almost provoked the suppressed and agitated junior in me and it was no less than tickling a sleeping lion. Just as I was about to enter the room where I usually worked, I could not resist myself from calling up ekta to vent out my frustration which actually was baseless, if I think of it now.

Ekta being one of the idlest people on this earth picked up my call in just 2 rings and I began blurting about how this world is ruthless and how people can be so mean to good people. Then I went on to describing my bad experiences and like an eccentric person I did not stop talking for at least the next 17 minutes and I suddenly realized that I was sounding like a frustrated divorcee who has no other aim in life but to speak ill about the partner, in my case the boss. Just while I stopped to ponder upon this, ekta spoke out very calmly and doubtfully, as if she was reassuring that I was done with my venting, and she said “this you’ve told me too many times, what happened today?” and I realized that I was acting like a moron. I soon called out in confidence “no man ekta, its heights, I am going to raise a voice against this kind of a rubbish treatment, I mean what, are we servants or what?” and just then I heard my boss call in anger, “Natasha, where have you been since morning, you are 3 and a half minutes late today.” Hurriedly I said “coming sir, sorry sir.” And i slammed the phone hoping ekta would have understood. Just while I was cutting down on her call, I could hear her laughter. The mean inevitable laughter that she comes up with, every time I call her to express my frustration, since she knows that the anger is for the moment, eventually I’ll manage to be alright by the end of the day.

I did finally manage to get over my irritation, but ill blame it on the dream that did not recur again. I kept trying though.

OOPS! IT STUNG US…

Humanity was the greatest creation of the Almighty

But are we heading towards a world of distress and pity?

To him, the world is no less than a celebration

But are we creating a future full of ghostly mansions?

2 ice ages and 2 big bangs back, the creator of this world had wanted to create a masterpiece of love, compassion, and peace, but he had no idea that the sown seeds of greed, lust and envy would empower his created human mind…

He endowed the universe with an earth that sustained life, earth responded to him by growing dirt and evil. Then god sent humans to take care of peace on earth and humans responded by misusing the human mind.

The fight between good and bad

Had not begun when ravana lost to ram

Not even when Hitler was disarmed

It had begun the day our Almighty had sown seeds of human kind

And ‘aah’ probably he gave them a HUMAN MIND.

Since the age of Hitler and Mussolini, this world has been a witness of reckless human behaviour. The dominance of one mind over several other human bodies, the merciless punishments, the ruthless killing, endless bloodshed, the deadly wars.  It all began because of one simple reason and that was “IDEOLOGIES”. The haves and have nots have always led to a dismantled state of living.

The world that we were born in, was like a caterpillar, all set to let out its wings from the cocoon and spread colours in this wide world.

It was the colour hues, the scenery and the fine strokes by the hands of an artist on his favourite canvas…

It was the rain of ecstasy, of purity symbolizing prosperity.

It was the smell of the earth when rain poured down,

It was the breeze that touched our senses…

Sooner this vision was blinded.

The world that we are living in, the world that we have made, is the same caterpillar stroked hard against life and clutched to death, ruining the cocoon and its dreams of flying

It is the same canvas that now portrays destruction, blood and not colour hues.

The rain suddenly turned in to rainfall of blood, symbolising dread and fear. The breeze then turned into crawling winds of dust, storm circling death and there came a feeling of terror.

And hence marked the beginning of a deadly disease, a plague…TERRORISM.

There was a time when

Man hunted animals for his need.

And today there’s a time

When man is hunting man out of envy and greed.

She stands there wailing and weeping,

Her eyes full of terror and sorrow,

She has nothing to lose now.

In that narrow lane of shunted homes, leaky rooftops, amidst all that fire and blood, she stands as though her dreams, stroked gently against a pillow of emotions. Her throat is heavy and helpless she looks at them. The masked and armed men who dropped in and laid thousand bullets down on her strong daddy’s chest. Who dropped in and brutally murdered her mother.

Each time people asked her, she only yelled “bad man, give back my daddy, give back my mom…” but those bad men don’t care. That poor girl has no idea that she is only calling out to darkness and speaking to walled hearts, which fail to see human emotions that die with every dying human. And those bad people are only spreading like fire in every part of the world…

In this multifaceted, multirelegious, multilingual world, there are so many chances of friendship and peace, we chose to use the same opportunities as a reason to fight and to create barriers and borders all over the globe…we come down to blaming castes, religions, sects, manuscripts, religious books, and Gods but practically terrorism has no basic belonging, it emerges out of human feeling like revenge, envy, jealousy, greed and downfall.

A dictionary reads terrorism as “the use of violence and threat of violence especially for political purpose”

People call it synonymous to destruction but basically terrorism is sheer misuse of human mind.

Terrorism arises due to illiteracy, corruption, unsuccessfulness, which leads to political instability all around the world, economic loss, human loss and sorrow, which is irreplaceable. Due to the crash down of world trade centre in one part of the world, there were numerous war fronts up and innumerable people dying .

Terrorism is not just when there are bomb blasts or crash downs, it is also domestic abuse…

In a far distant park

I saw toddler, full of joy,

Smiling to glory

Under that scorching sun,

He had probably found ecstasy in a water pipe.

It was as though running water

Was spelling magic on him

And in a fraction of second,

A loud thunderclap changes that scenario

Into a surrounding full of blood and burnt bodies…

Amidst all that hustle bustle and terror

There lay the dead body of that toddler, still smiling

And that was the last thing his parents must have expected a minute back.

Such is the intensity of terrorism;

Why did the boy have to pay his life?

Why do so many innocent people become a victim of nothing?

The questions lie unanswered.

We might crib, cry, howl. Complain but it is all upon how the human mind lets its weakness overpower the positivity and thinking ability…when the creator created this universe, he had no idea of what the future may bring…time immemorial this land has been witnessing such killing and destruction and there is still no sign of decrease…

Humans are the workers and builders of society,

We can either push it down or take it to a higher level, where our word becomes an epitome of peace and unity.

Let’s make this land the way our leaders dreamt it to be.

Let’s bring a climate of change.

Terrorism is not just a game of riffles or bombs, it is not a practice at the mercy of guns and bullets but it is all in the mind

We have guided missiles but misguided men…

Are we politically correct?

They say there’s a mere thin line difference between a leader and a follower…leaders think!

As a toddler I was constantly “made” to do things, who does not go through the “sing song” phase of childhood when parents literally packed us up in uncomfortable clothes and took us to loud birthday parties or elderly get togethers where every second person requested us to recite a nursery rhyme in a sing song manner, may be they thought that’d make us look good and probably that was the discipline of  being. I now wonder whether they actually did that to know how much we’ve grown or did they do it to entertain themselves?

When it was time to be admitted in a school, yet again I was trained how to answer questions like “child! What is your favourite game?” I mean how was I supposed to choose one among the 1000, when that was all I did at the age of 3, may be that’s how small kids are tested, and supposedly I have still not figured why I needed to be tutored for that…

Now that I’ve passed school, I wonder as to, on what basis was I selected, was it because of my “parentally” correct answers or for who I actually was. Well then how does it matter if I behaved like a greedy and annoying kid, who snatched a handful of candies when they were offered to me?

Then when I reached the “exam giving” phase, all that I remember about it was that everybody was completely stressed except me. I mean 2 and a half minutes before the exam sheet was going to be distributed, we were asked to “stand up, join our hands and close our eyes” and recite the early morning prayer, how does it matter if some of us dint even know the exact meaning of the verses, even though that was a ritual and the right thing to acquire positivity.

I used to wonder why we need to study, and how could an examiner possibly give me marks on how much text my brain retained from the textbook. What if I was rather interested to know what happens to the burst clouds after rain, than mugging up texts about what happens to an electron cloud when it collides with another one.

I still cannot figure out of why such small things which we can’t see at all get really important. Because all this while when we are completely boggled and nervous to find out what’s inside the smallest unit like and electron, we are actually missing out on all that we can already see. Now that I am off the school phase, I hardly remember any lectures of physics and chemistry, but I definitely remember moments that led me into deep introspection.  I may not recall what I studied during exam times. But I certainly remember every dialogue of the theatre performance in our school which made me realize how less aware I was.

I was never interested to study about the facts and figures of chemistry but I can recall everyday of shock while watching news when the 26/11 attack took place. It was then that I began to “think”. It was then that I realized that all this while I was only progressing mechanically. The growth of a person begins when he or she begins to THINK and not when he is made to LEARN…

School was not just about studying, it was larger than life, now that I “think”, I realize that there’s so much it takes to know and realize what is wrong and it takes only a little “thought” to become a leader…

For the youth today, the only mantra is “think and act” because may be during the school exams we were helpless and had no option but to write was was learnt, but now it’s in our hands.

For how long will we sit back and watch the wrongs only because we need to be “politically correct”, we certainly need to be who we really are and be informed, aware and empowered to the outside world, other than texts…

“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower.”

CHARIOTEER OF TIME…

“Time is free, but it’s priceless. You cannot own it, but you can use it. You cannot keep it, but you can spend it. Once you’ve lost it, you can never get it back.”

Time immemorial, we have quoted phrases, verses and incidents from the greatest war of history, the 18 day Mahabharata, the evidences of which still keep alive on the land of Delhi.

Delhi, the old Hastinapur, has been the witness of this epic story and this has been proven by archeologists, and geologists, since the shackles of those times lie buried under the sand of Delhi.

Delhi has been the charioteer of time and its land has witnessed innumerable episodes that have written down pages in history. Be it the Mughal dynasty, the war of freedom, the Mahabharata or the biggest political events. Delhi being the capital of India, has a major role in making India what it is today. Starting from republic day parade on 26^th January at the India Gate, or the Independence Day celebrations at red fort, to the commonwealth games in 2010. The various achievements and events of our country have more or less been initiated in its capital. Delhi has come a long way celebrating its 100 years and it has indeed kept changing by the years and generations. One thing that has remained constant here is “change”.

There are innumerable people who walk down the streets and suburbs of Delhi everyday, and everyone has a unique story that breathes in Delhi. One such story is that of ‘raja’.

His name meant “the king” and he believed that he’ll become one someday. Raja was school going when he came to Delhi. He had heard from people that delhi serves as a home to many and fulfills dreams a million. He was young and dreamt of becoming big one day. Walking down the railway station, he felt a sense of belonging to this place. Completely unknown, this place still welcomed him with open arms. Soon as he was walking down the lane, he was beginning to gather confidence; his feeling of being a stranger was slowly dissolving into the sight of crowded footpaths. A gradual smile began to lift through his face. He came across a numerous towering buildings which gave him hopes of rising up, he came across very many people walking down or driving by to their workplaces which inspired him and made him wish for a fair chance for him too.

He walked by the crowded and busy streets of old Delhi which made him smile in rejoice on watching hot jalebis and pakoras at every sweet shop and steaming tea at every nook and corner he walked by. He was appalled at the fast life out there, rickshaw pullers busy cleaning up their 3 wheelers hoping to see some extra customers in their day ahead, ladies were engrossed in early morning tasks like drying clothes, sending children to school, cooking while some women also hurried to their workplaces. He was amazed at the site of rush at jama masjid which made him realized that he wasn’t the only believer in god.

He kept walking when suddenly one of his slipper slipped out, he looked back at that slipper and passed a slight smirk as though that slipper owed him an apology for having broken his gaze, he smiled back to it forgiving the poor slipper and then kept moving. He came across an enormous landscape flaunted with huge red walls, flanked by the tricolor flag at the top, and it took him no time to realize that he was watching the red fort, about which he had read in his text books. That day, he saw the variations that came along his way. He saw the lively face of delhi and also the fast pace of life here.

Ever since that day of his walk down the streets of Delhi, he has loved this place, more that he has loved himself.

He found a home at a place that shows him the diversity of Delhi. Every morning he watches Mr.kapoor wait for Mr.Iyer to board his car so they could leave for their job. He loves to watch Mrs.gupta argue with mrs.ghosh for water every morning. He is overjoyed to watch bittoo smile and walk to his bus stop to board his bus for school.

His gaze and admiration of all this is often interrupted by his clients at his workplace, who pay him a fair amount of money for his job. Many a times he gets valuable stuff as perks of his job and his dreams keep growing by every passing day.

Raja is no businessman, neither a fairly earning govt employee. Raja was a runaway from his village a few years back and today he works at a tea stall on a footpath in a lost suburb in Delhi. He is often interrupted by his so called “clients” who naturally are people who come to buy tea at his stall and break his gaze of the surrounding. He lives on a roadside near a dump yard and while scrapping down the garbage, he finds valuables like lost bracelets, fallen coins and unusual articles, which he preserves as his perks.

None the less, he loves to watch every day pass by and admires the spirit of Delhi. Delhi gave him the freedom of admiration, the freedom to walk alone and dream as much as he can, the freedom to look at things the way he wants to and the freedom to breathe…the freedom to do all that his village did not give him.