my beloved poltergeist

like an undercurrent

over which I have no control of;

like the passing hurricane,

of which I cannot do anything but be a mute-spectator,

your thoughts & memories haunt me, prey on me -

even something as simple as that infectuous smile of yours.

they drag me to their depths,

render pain &

suffocate;

they shatter every inch of my composure

and spit me out

when their thirst is quenched,

and toss me into an unending circus of

void and pain.

without any regard for time nor space -

without any regard for who or what or where i may be.

an awkward, tottering

smile erupts as the tears begin to dry.

you are my poltergeist -

my beloved poltergeist.

Into the wild

Run,
Run into the wild,
spirits held high,
not knowing why
but you just run,
run into the wild.

Walk,
a mile into the wild,
let go for a while
your distant child.

Jump,
Across meandering streams,
a race to the horizon,
you have never seen.

Limper,
across the countryside,
pick feathers, crotons,
smell the flower wild.

Rest,
if you must,
to see another day,
in the wild.

Lost Paradise

Don't show me the promised land,

No,
Don't talk to me about paradise.

You will show me the blue sky,
The green grass, the yellow sun, the purple carnations,
the moon-lit sky,
But,
You will not be there by my side.

Leave it to the painter, the poet, the dramatist, the musician;

No,
Don't talk to me about paradise.

Don't show me the promised land,
If you cannot walk the distance with me.

I had a belief, now I have reasons to believe

I had a comfortable job, with a comfortable pay, which would have ensured me a life of materialistic comfort. But I was never happy. My life had become predictable. I kept searching for a more meaningful existence. An existence which my conscience would find justified. This soul searching exercise had started some time back when I was in college – but I was faced with limited options and insufficient guidance. I was drifting like an abandoned boat in the middle of an ocean, leaving it to the currents to shape my destiny. Without a mast, without a sailor, I wandered far and long searching and probing for something true. What was I looking for? Will I be ever satisfied with what I find? Will this drifting ever end? These questions were omnipresent no matter in which direction I looked. I was looking only for two things in my occupation – Satisfaction and a passion so great that it would generate in me that I should be ready to die for it. I always used to get great satisfaction out of helping people in need. But it had never struck me that I could make a career out of it. So I began asking myself questions - Who are the most in need? The poorest of the poor; and where do they live? In the villages of every country. Now I had a belief. I knew now, that I have to head north. I took control of the steer and began to row. And here I am. Without any background, without any experience I chose to study Rural Management. I was only motivated by a belief that the poor people of every country deserved a better life and that I should be there playing the role of a change-maker. It was in fact a very naïve belief without any prior proof or reason – but it was a belief which I strongly held onto.
Now, after spending considerable amount of time in the villages, I have reasons to believe. I have learnt not to give up hope, though at times hope may seem to be a positive connotation of self-deception. I have learnt to have faith in myself, because I have proved myself right in holding onto my beliefs. I have learnt to trust people because they instil faith in you to hold on to your beliefs.

Villages – the cradle of humanity

This was what I left with after the month long assignment. This is what remains with me today. This one statement keeps ringing in my head, giving me momentum – to inch closer to realising my dreams – the cradle of humanity lies in the villages of this world. But why you may ask? Like the water which is most pristine at the source of a river, humanity too, is most pristine in the villages. Untouched and unblemished, the people in the village, I believe are like the water at the source of a river. Emotions running pure – love, hatred, jealousy, innocence – they are the carriers of the building blocks of humanity. I have drifted from my true self. Why? Maybe because of the imperfections and dilution that is introduced to a person in the city life where day by day we seem to be becoming islands of selfishness. Driven by motives which lead us astray from the path of humanity, we lose sight gradually, and we lose our basic essence. Value systems change. Now I feel the urge to find my way back – back to where I belong, back to the source. I have realised the importance of preserving this and nurturing these qualities that make me a human being – be it good or bad. I have learnt that it is worth the effort.

Esmyle

He may be smiling, but he may be better off smiling with books in his hand. Please report all incidents of child labour abuse wherever you may come across. BOSCO , a bangalore based NGO runs a child helpline 24X7; do not hesitate to dial 1098 the next time a little boy in an over-sized, shabby t-shirt serves you a glass full of lassi in your local dhaba.

Alma Mater

Blossoms :)

When a blind man cries...

She is one of the contrasts that greets you when you visit the Brigade Road (Bangalore). Amidst all the bling, glitz, and glamour you can't help but notice and be overwhelmed by the contrasts and ironies that surround us.