My Blog

about myself

2008-11-14T13:01:00.001+05:30

I am a new born baby who lived so far unconsciously with a particular frame of reference finds extremely difficult to perceive and hence to define this world. My set of assumptions and principles, that were defining my uniqueness and personality, are vacillating and hence resulting into feeble decision making. I feel myself more perceptive- not judgmental – with all my senses trying to formulate new sets of assumptions and principles. Certainly-with a new frame of reference- the definition of ‘I’ would have some relevance.

I'm Back

2006-03-23T09:58:00.000+05:30

Back with the job ...Identify the company...

प्रियसी

2005-12-03T22:45:00.000+05:30

होगा सवेरा चौखट पर फिर, अंगडाइयाँ जब दम तोडेंगी।
ऊषा की प्रथम किरण इस मुख पर जब अंकित होगी।

हे मेरी प्रियसी ! इन पलकों के खुलने से पहले तुम इनमे समा जाना।
मेरी धमनियों में रम जाना।

फिर मैं इन नयनों को खोलुंगा.....बस एक कृपा और कर देना।
इन नयनों से कभी निकल न जाना।
कभी निकल न जाना।

Thinking

2005-11-09T23:03:00.000+05:30

The process of thinking has been changing quite drastically as many things happened in last few days and I learnt a lot from them.
I don't know what's happening with me? Even I am unable to recognize these changes. This materialist world doesn't fascinate me anymore. Books have become my only best friend. I want to live with them only. Rest seems to me as useless and senseless.
I'm an optimistic person and hope that these changes will also help in some way in the future.

I'm back

2005-11-07T20:08:00.000+05:30

sorry for not writing anything in last few weeks. I was a bit busy in my usual affairs. But now all that things are over and I'll try to be regular with you my dear blog.
Many things happened in last one month, some are good while some are bad. The good thing is that I have dropped the idea of doing MBA after my graduation and have started preparing for IAS. The bad news is that I haven't written any poem so far after 'Sarhad' but will definately try to write something in next few days.
Let's hope to come back to original life.

पहेली

2005-09-29T21:43:00.000+05:30

जिंदगी हर पल नए सवाल खडा करती है. . . .

सवालों में हर बार इक पहेली हुआ करती है. . . .

कब तक इन पहेलियों में जकडता जाऊंगा मैं.....

कब तक अपने विचारों से लडता रहूंगा मैं.....

पता नहीं पर....

अन्‍त की तलाश में शायद खुद मैं एक पहेली बन गया हूं।

मधुशाला (8)

2005-09-15T19:43:00.000+05:30

लालायित अधरों से जिसने, हाय, नहीं चूमी हाला,

हर्ष-विकंपित कर से जिसने, हा, न छुआ मधु का प्याला,

हाथ पकड़ लज्जित साकी का पास नहीं जिसने खींचा,

व्यर्थ सुखा डाली जीवन की उसने मधुमय मधुशाला।

The extent upto which I could translate it;

" The one who couldn't kiss the wine with his thirsty lips. The one who couldn't touch the cup of wine with his jubilant hands. The one who couldn't snatch the shy bar girl towards himself has dried up his tavern of life. "

मधुशाला (7)

2005-09-13T08:39:00.000+05:30

धर्मग्रन्थ सब जला चुकी है, जिसके अंतर की ज्वाला,

मंदिर, मसजिद, गिरिजे, सब को तोड़ चुका जो मतवाला,

पंिडत, मोमिन, पादिरयों के फंदांे को जो काट चुका,

कर सकती है आज उसी का स्वागत मेरी मधुशाला।

The extent upto which I could translate it:

" The one whose inner fire has burnt all the religious books and has broken down temples, mosque, church and all. The one who doesn't have any concern with brahmin, mollah and bishop, can be welcomed in 'my Madhushala' (the poet's tavern)."

Dilbert

2005-09-06T10:09:00.000+05:30

Teacher's Day

2005-09-05T11:28:00.000+05:30

The cribbing is from Teacher's Day.

" A day that is dedicated to the hard work that is input by the teacher all year long, a day that is a complete tribute to the teachers all around India. In India teacher day is celebrated on 5th of September. Teachers Day is a dedication to Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, who was a staunch believer of education and was one of the most well known diplomat, scholar, president of India and above all a teacher. As a tribute to this great teacher, his birthday has been observed as teachers' day and this led to its origin."

मधुशाला (4)

2005-09-05T10:46:00.000+05:30

mauK sao tU Aivart khta jaa maQau¸ maidra¸ maadk halaa¸
haqaaoM maoM AnauBava krta jaa ek lailat kilpt Pyaalaa¸
Qyaana ike jaa mana maoM saumaQaur sauKkr¸ sauMdr saakI ka¸
AaOr baZ,a cala¸ piqak¸ na tuJakao dUr lagaogaI maQauSaalaa.

The extent upto which I could translate it:

"The poet is telling to the drink seeker, " You keep uttering words like sweet, wine and intoxicating liquid and feel an imaginary pot of wine in your hands. With the imagination of a beautiful girl who is serving the pot of wine, just go on, you will find 'Madhushala' (the tavern) not that far."

मधुशाला (3)

2005-09-04T16:21:00.000+05:30

maidralaya jaanao kao Qar sao calata hO pInaovalaa¸
'iksa pqa sao jaa}ÐÆ' AsamaMjasa maoM hO vah BaaolaaBaalaa¸
AlagaAlaga pqa batlaato saba pr maOM yah batlaata hUÐ –
'rah pkD, tU ek calaa cala¸ pa jaaegaa maQauSaalaa.'

The extent upto which I could translate it:

" The drink seeker starts from home with an intention of finding a tavern but he is in a dilemma as to which path he should choose. Everyone tells him different paths to reach there but the poet tells him to choose any one path. If the drink seeker will follow one path (any one) then definitely he will get the tavern. "

कैसा हो श्रोता ! (A listener should be ...)

2005-09-03T23:41:00.000+05:30

घड़ों का प्रसंग: प्रसंग चार घड़ों का है। एक घड़ा तल से फूटा हुआ होता है। उसमें जितना तरल पदार्थ डाला जाता है, सारा का सारा बाहर निकल जाता है। एक घड़ा पेट से फूटा हुआ होता है। उसमें डाला हुआ आधा जल सुरक्षित रह जाता है और बाकी बह जाता है। तीसरा घड़ा किनारों से फूटा होता है, उसमें काफी जल बचा रहता है और थोड़ा-सा निकल जाता है। चौथा घड़ा संपूर्ण होता है। उसमें जितना जल डाला जाएगा, वह सारा सुरक्षित रहता है। इसी प्रकार चार प्रकार के श्रोता होते हैं। पहली तरह का श्रोता वह है, जो इस कान से सुनकर उस कान से निकाल देता है। दूसरी तरह का श्रोता ज्यादा भूलता है, कम याद रखता है। तीसरी तरह का श्रोता थोड़ा भूलता है और अधिक याद रखता है। चौथी श्रेणी में वह श्रोता आता है जो अक्षर, मात्रा और बिन्दु को भी अपनी स्मृति से ओझल नहीं होने देता।

"The short tale is about four pots. One of them has a hole at the bottom so everything comes out very quickly no matter how much liquid you pour into it. Another one has a hole in the middle so half of the liquid remians while rest of it flows away. The third one is broken down at the edges so most of the liquid remains in the pot and a small amount of it flows away. The last one has no hole and it is completely perfect in its shape so everything that is poured, is retained completely in it.
In the same way, there are four types of listeners. The first one is who lets everything pass away from one ear to the other. He does not retain anything. The second one forgets more and remembers very less. The third listener forgets less but remembers more and the last one is who remembers even minutest things."

मधुशाला (2)

2005-09-03T16:37:00.000+05:30

Baavaukta AMgaUr lata sao
KIMca klpnaa kI halaa¸
kiva saakI banakr Aayaa hO
Barkr kivata ka PyaalaaÂ
kBaI na kNa Bar KalaI haogaa¸
laaK ipeÐ¸ dao laaK ipeÐ Ñ
pazkgaNa hOM pInaovaalao
pustk maorI maQauSaalaa.

The extent upto which I could translate it:

" The poet has come as a wineserver with the pot of wine as his poems, filled to the brim with his imaginations and thoughts. The pot will always be full no matter how much one drinks from it. He calls his readers the drinkers who are to soak themselves in the wine from his tavern which is what he comapares his book 'Madhushala' with."

मधुशाला (1)

2005-09-02T09:24:00.000+05:30

मृदु भावों के अंगूरों की
आज बना लाया हाला,
प्रियतम, अपने ही हाथों से
आज पिलाऊँगा प्‍याला;

पहले भोग लगा लूँ तेरा,
फिर प्रसाद जग पाएगा;

सबसे पहले तेरा स्‍वागत
करती मेरी मधुशाला।

The extent upto which I could translate it:

"The poet is addressing God as his lover by saying that he(the poet) has made the wine of his sweet thoughts and will serve the pot of wine to him today. According to Hindu mythology, God's blessings are necessary to start a new work. Hence the poet is presenting the pot of wine as an offering to God on the starting of his 'Madhushala'(the house of liquor-pub). His 'Madhushala' is welcoming God as it's first customer."

Madhushala

2005-09-01T21:32:00.000+05:30

"Madhushala - the house of liquor, pub"
After many days I wanted to read some hindi poems so searched for that in my collection of books. Fortunately 'Madhushala' caught my attention. Actually this was the only book that was left unread due to various reasons. So I started reading it.
As the title suggests, 'Madhushala' is about wine and a pot in which wine is poured and the house of liquor-pub. Mr. Haribansh rai bachhan has portrayed a magnificent sketch of wine sothat no body can resist oneself from feeling like a drunk. He has put all the hues of life and decorated it with his eloquent way of writing.
I remember when some of my friends used to praise this book and advise me to read it but I never showed any enthusiasm for it. Today I realized that they were right. These poems are really heart rendering. I couldn't resist myself to finish it in a single reading. Yes, I should have read this book much earlier.
I have become an ardent fan of this book so from tomorrow onwards, I shall upload one poem of 'Madhushala' daily on 'my blog' with english translation of it.

Day - 2 : " The Sarabjeet's Case "

2005-08-28T23:56:00.000+05:30

Paksian has agreed on the consular access in this case. It seems a positive reply from Islamabad.

day-1 ::"India for humanitarian view of Sarabjeet case "

2005-08-27T17:57:00.000+05:30

Few days back, the Pakistani supreme court has awarded the death sentence to Mr. Sarabjeet for his involvement in illegal activities. It is reported that he is an Indian. Across the border in India, his family believes in Mr. Sarabjeet's innocence and has been pleading to the Indian government to take necessary actions to save his life. Immense pressure from media and television channels pushed Indian government to talk with Pakistani officials. As a result, the external affairs minister Mr.Natwar Singh conveyed to the pakistani high commissioner Mr. Khan that this case should be treated as a 'humanitarian issue' by the pakistani government.
The External Affairs ministry spokesman said after the meeting of Mr. Natwar Singh and Mr.Khan," Minister said that this case is an humanitarian case and indian sentiments are involved for sparing Mr.Sarabjeet's life. Consular access being provided was taken up which hope that things would move in positive directions."
Soon after the meeting the high commissioner assured that he would convey this message to the higher officials in Islamabad.
In this case, government is hopeful that consular access would be granted and Pakistan would take lenient steps towards the victim.

सरहद (The Border)

2005-08-12T04:11:00.000+05:30

This is the poem written by me (an unknown poet) in which I tried to depict the time of Independence behind the curtain of love. Few days back, I read 'Train to Pakistan' by Mr.Khushwant Singh and it made an everlasting impression on my mind. I decided to give my own words to represent the era of independence that was mentioned in 'Train to Pakistan'. Though my poem is mostly differ from the content of the book but the theme is same that lies on the partition in 1947. I added some of my own thoughts instead of copying from the book blindly.

There are mainly five parts of the poem depicting different situations. The first part envisages a village 'Mahua' and its life before partition. The second part is a romantic one which reflects the true love story of a Hindu boy with a Muslim girl. The third part is the heart of the poem which depicts the partition time and its consequences. While fourth part describes about the situation of 'Mahua' after partition and the last part shows the parting of Muslim girl to Pakistan with her father.

All the five parts are mutually inclusive to envisage the period of independence. I feel this is the best poem written by me so far. I spent more than three days to think again and again on this topic and finally I am happy that it has been completed.

१
एक गॉंव है महुआ बिल्‍कुल छोटा सा,
दीन दुनिया से बेखबर अपनी ही दुनिया में खोआ सा।

हवाऒं में जिसकी पीली मिट्‍टी की खुशबू आती है।
खेतों में उसके सरसों बोई जाती है।
पेडों पर कोयल कूका करती है।
कूँऐ में बच्‍चे कंकड फैका करते हैं।
मंदिर के घंटों से स्‍पंदन पैदा होता है, वहीं कुछ दूरी पर मज्ञ्‍जित में मौलाना नमाज़ अदा कर जाते हैं।
जैसे ही ये ध्‍वनियॉं कानों से टकराती हैं,
लोगों के लिये एक नई सुबह हो जाती है।
सब कायॊं में व्‍यस्‍त हो ज़ाते हैं,
महुआ की ज़िंदगी सांसे लेने लग जाती है।

लाहौर से दिल्‍ली जाने वाली सवारी गाडी दोपहर के खाने की याद दिलाती है।
मक्‍के की रोटी, सरसों का साग, उस पर गुड की छोटी सी ड़ेली, भरी दुपहरी में भी परम आनंद पहुंचाती है।
शाम को छुक - छुक करके चलने वाली मालगाडी अपने घर की याद दिलाती है।
गॉंव के बीचों बीच वटबृक्ष के नीचे पंचायत बैठा करती है।
हिन्‍दू-मुस्‍लिम सब मिल बैठ दिन भर की बातें बतियाते हैं।
उधर औरतें चूल्‍हा फूका करतीं हैं।
इधर बच्‍चे गुल्‍ली-डंडा खेला करते हैं।

यूंही देखते-देखते सूयॆ अस्‍त हो जाता है, रात दस्‍तक देने लग जाती है,
दिल्‍ली से लौटकर लाहौर जाने वाली गाडी सोने का संकेत दे जाती है।
बस फिर कुछ पल के लिये जिन्‍दगी थम सी जाती है,
पूरा महुआ चिर निद्रा में खो जाता है।
और एक नई सुबह आ जाती है........

२

महुआ की शुष्‍क हवाऔं में भी एक प्‍यार पनपता है।
किसान का बेटा रामलाल मौलाना की बेटी नूराह से रोज छुप-छुप कर मिलता है।
दोनों मीठी बातें करते हैं, जीने मरने की बातें करते हैं,
पल-पल हर-पल सपनों के शीशमहल में एक जिन्‍दगी जिया करते हैं,
पर जब भी रामलाल शादी की बातें किया करता है, नूराह की ऑंखों में ऑंसू आ जाते हैं,
वो सिसक-सिसक कर रोती और हर बार की तरह बस यही वो कहती।
तुम हिन्‍दू मैं मुस्‍लिम यही सबसे बडा दुभॊग्‍य है।
इस जात पात के चक्‍कर में जकडा अपना प्‍यार है।
शायद रिश्‍तों में बंधना अल्‍लाह का फरमान नहीं।
इसलिये इस जन्‍म में अपना निकाह मुम्‍किन नहीं...मुम्‍किन नहीं।
जैसे ही ये शब्‍द रामलाल के कानों में पडते हैं उसका बायीं ऑंख का ऑंसू झट से पलकों पर आ जाता है।
अपने सूखे अधरों से वो बस नूराह-नूराह कह पाता है। नूराह-नूराह कह पाता है।

यही उन दोनों की पे॒म कहानी है,
दो पल मिलते हैं, साथ-साथ चलते हैं, सपनों के शीशमहल बनते बिगडते हैं।
ऎसे ही हर दिन निकल जाता है और एक नई सुबह आ जाती है......

३

उधर हालात कुछ और ही थे।
हो गये इस देश के दो टुकडे थे।
मोहब्‍बत के दुश्‍मनों ने लकीर खींचकर सरहद बना दी।
उस सरहद की मॉंग खूनी रंग से सजा दी।
मैं हिन्‍दू तू मुस्‍लिम ...तू हिन्‍दू मैं मुस्‍लिम...
लोगों की सांसो का सौदा करती इस सरहद की सच्‍चाई थी।
पल-पल घुटती दम तोडती लोगों की अछ्‍छाई थी।

अब तो सफेद दीवारों पर खूनी शाम ढला करती थी।
घर के ऑंगन में हर रोज़ एक चिता जला करती थी।
खुद की परछाइयों ने भी अपना दामन छोड दिया,
गलियों में बस रूहें चला करती है।
गॉंव कस्‍बों में जहॉं जिंदगी बसा करती थी,
कब्रो ने भी सांसे भरना सीख लिया।
हवाऒं में जहॉं पीली मिट्‍टी की खुशबू आती थी,
इन हवाऒं तक ने अपना मुख मोड लिया।

लाहौर और दिल्‍ली वाली गाडी अब लाशें लेकर आती थी।
कौन हिन्‍दू कौन मुस्‍लिम ये लाशें बोला करती थी।
अब हर रात कब्रों में ढला करती थी।
हर सुबह लाशें ऒढा करती थी.....

४

महुआ के चॉंद में भी ग्रहण लग गया।
सरसों का रंग पीले से सुखॅ लाल हो गया।
गॉंव के बीचो-बीच वटवृक्ष के नीचे अब लाशें बैठा करती थी।
मंदिर में घंटे बजते थे पर मज्‍जिद सूनी रहती थी।
हर सहर एक खौफ ऒढे रहती थी, हर रात खूनी ऑंसू पिया करती थी।

वहीं खिडकी में नूराह नम ऑंखों से खुले आकाश को देखा करती थी।
अपनी मोहब्‍बत को बादलों में घिरते देख सिसक-सिसक कर रोया करती थी।
तारे गिना करती थी, उन तारों से कहा करती थी।
" कल मुझे सरहद पार जाना है अपने अब्‍बू के साथ।
तुम मुझे वहॉं जरुर मिल जाना , तुममें मैं अपनी मोहब्‍बत ढूंढ लूंगी।
तुम्‍हारे भरोसे बची कुची जिंदगी जी लूंगी....जिंदगी जी लूंगी।"

५

दिल्‍ली से लाहौर वाली गाडी आज कुछ देर से आती है।
नूराह अपने अब्‍बू के संग उस गाडी में चढ जाती है।
गाडी चलने लग जाती है, उसकी सांसें थम सी जाती है।
टूटती बिखरती सी वो दरबाजे पर खडी हो जाती है।
तभी कुछ दूर से उसे रामलाल दिखाई देता है।
उसकी बोझिल सांसें चलने लग जाती है।
पर गाडी की रफ्‍तार और तेज हो जाती है।
नूराह धबरा सी जाती है।
दौडता-भागता सा रामलाल उसके पास आ जाता है।
अपनी कपकपाती उंगलियों से उसके हाथों को छूकर यही बस कहता है,
" तुम अपना ख्‍याल रखना।
तुम सही कहती थी.....
इस जन्‍म में अपना निकाह मुम्‍किन नहीं।
इस जन्‍म में न सही अगले जन्‍म में मेरी ही बनकर रहना। मेरी ही बनकर रहना। "

वो कुछ न कह पाती है, जिन्‍दा लाश बनकर रह जाती है।
धुंधली आंखो से अपनी मोहब्‍बत को ओझल होते देखती है।
गाडी और तेज हो जाती है।
वो सरहद पार कर जाती है।
वो सरहद पार कर जाती है।

" इस सरहद ने इंसानों को तोड दिया।
मोहब्‍बत करने वालों को तडपता छोड दिया।
इसकी मांग खूनी रंग से सजी है,
इसलिये हर घर में एक चिता जली है। एक चिता जली है।"

-----------समाप्‍त------------

मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं।

2005-08-09T23:44:00.000+05:30

अधेरों की महफिल में, एक लम्‍बी कतार में,
खडा हूं अकेला हाथ में दिया लेकर।
लौ बुझ रही है पवन चल रही है,
हाथों की आ॓ट ने संभाल रखा है लौ को।
पर क्‍या अगर लौ बुझ जाये, पर क्‍या अगर अंधेरा हो जाये।
एक लौ ऑर भी है जो कभी नहीं बुझती।
मेरे अंदर की लौ जो मुझसे हमेशा यही कहती रहती है।
मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं। मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं।

जीवन की इन विषम परिस्‍थतियों में,
कुछ नया करने की चाह में,
मुझे आंधियों से भी टकराना होगा, तूफानों से भी लडना होगा।
शायद बहुत मुिश्‍कल है पर नामुिम्‍कन नहीं।
क्‍योंकि.......
मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं। मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं।

आज मेरी लेखनी नहीं थमेगी,
कागजों से इसकी स्‍याही नहीं मिटेगी।
अब भीड से आगे चलना है,
शायद इसी भीड का लीडर बनना है।
क्‍योंकि.....
मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं। मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं।

समय के बदलाव ने कमजोर बना दिया है।
रिश्‍तों की बनावट ने खोखला कर दिया है।
खोज रहा हूं खुद को खुद में, शायद आइना भी टूट चुका है.....पर
जो सपना मैंने देखा है, वो मेरे साथ है।
खुद ही जोडूंगा, इस टूटे हुये आइने को।
क्‍योंकि.....
मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं। मैं कमजोर नहीं हूं।

Realization...

2005-08-05T23:17:00.000+05:30

There are twelve guys in my wing whom I have been interacting since couple of years. It’s just a matter of fact that some are very close to me while others are very far. In these years a kind of impression has been built in my mind about all our wing mates but today my notion has changed for Vishal. I had a kind of notion that he would be an academic loving guy and would never think about the relations and various aspects of life so I never interacted with him that way. Somehow I had a little talk with him today in the evening and my way of thinking has been changed. He discussed his feelings about a girl and showed some poems written by him. A beautiful poem that he wrote for the girl dropped an everlasting impression on me. He kept his feelings hidden fathoms deep into his poem.

I feel we all have something in our lives which lead us to think deep down. Something which we never want to let out. Today I realized a new thing about Vishal, don’t know how much will I be able to find out in upcoming days.

तुम

2005-08-05T13:20:00.000+05:30

I wrote this peom for one of my good friends whom I met in IOCL. You can easily portray of her through my poem.

विचारो की पूणॆता लिये,
मुख पर आभा समेटे,
तितली सी चंचल तुम,
फूलो सी कोमल तुम,
खुद हर पल जो मुस्‌कुराती हो,
हमको भी हँसना सिखाती हो।

तुम युही हर पल हसते रहना, जिन्‍दगी जीते रहना।
कभी इस मुस्‍कुराहठ को अपने से अलग मत करना।

मै ठहरा कवि तुमसे ये वरदान चाहता हू,
अपनी कविता के लिये ये मुस्‍कुराहठ मॉगता हू।

काश ये मुस्‍कुराहठ मुझे मिल जाऎ,
मेरी कविता भी शाश्‍वत जीवित हो जाऎ।

Born Into The Brothel

2005-08-04T12:10:00.000+05:30

A marvelous documentary by Ross Kauffman and Zana Briski is the winner of the 77th annual Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature. It is a portrait of children of Red light district of Calcutta where their mothers work as prostitute. Zana, a photographer from New York spends her time with these children by providing them cameras to capture the hues of this world through their own eyes.
There is a group of few children of age less than fifteen. Zana talks to them and makes a great fun with photography. As she spends more and more time with these children, she feels herself very close to them. She decides to do something and starts working on their schooling. Somehow she gets an initial success in convincing parents but the main problem arises in finding a good school. She talks few of them in the city but due to the background of children, they all simply refuse to take them. Finally she talks with social organizations and foundations. With her strenuous efforts, few of those children get into the schools.
The main theme revolves around the children and their lives in brothel. Many of them have the ambitions to study but due to filthy environment and poor financial conditions, all their dreams have been shattering. They have accepted the cruel reality of life. Their worlds have been shrunk around the brothel itself. Zana shows them a ray of hope with a camera. That camera changes many things in their lives. They see a complete new world with the help of this device. These are the pictures taken by them which reflect their ideas and farsightedness.
I liked this documentary, not because of its overall rating but the softness that was untouched so far. There were many incidents when tears rolled down my cheeks. I have not been able to resist my self to think again and again since then.
There will be many such children who will not be able to live a good life. Is it their destiny that they were born into such places while I born into a well civilized, educated family? I have been getting a good education, a respectable social life. What are their faults???
Only their fates led them to hell while mine to a so called ‘heaven’. Why ???????

Khamosh Pani (Silent Water)

2005-08-03T23:49:00.000+05:30

I had always been in search of this movie since a long time and thank God! Finally I could find it.
Basically this is a documentary based on Islamic fundamentalistic movement in Pakistan at 1979. The story revolves around a Muslim woman ‘Ayesha’ and her son ‘Saleem’. Ayesha is a middle aged woman, her life centers across her son who is in love with a school girl. As the story progresses, Saleem involves in an Islamic movement. Ayesha is saddened to see her son change radically. Sikh pilgrims come to that place for the worship. Later, a pilgrim looks for his sister Veero who was abducted in 1947. This awakens heart rendering memories of ‘Ayesha’ who remembers the incident in which she (Veero) had to marry with a Muslim to survive.
This story is the mirror of Indo-Pak partition era. Though story revolves around a woman but also provides lot of information.
I had been writing a poem on Indo-Pak border so this documentary helped me a lot in thinking deeply.

For more information about the documentary please click on the link below.
Khamosh Pani(Silent Water)

Changes !!

2005-08-02T19:22:00.000+05:30

"Change is the law of nature"
I compare the very first day at IIT and today itself, I realize the changes that occurred in past three years. These changes are transient or for a prolonged period of time are difficult to say. If I push back the memories i.e. three years before when I was in first year, I recall some incidents which give the blurred portraits of mine at that time.

Let’s start with the academics part. I never ever cared about it. I had a notion in my mind that after clearing JEE it was no need to study again so I never gave a damn shit. Always bunked classes and did crap things. The result was, I landed up with 7.28 C.G.P.A (on the scale of 10) while most of my batch mates performed very well.:(

On the account of my worst C.G.P.A, I enjoyed a lot. I was a lively person who always wanted to make every moment precious and memorable. So my ‘self ego’ never came into existence through out the year. But then things changed a lot. I came to new hostel, met different people and learned new things. In the mean time my thinking had been developed a lot. I thought on various topics like philosophy of life, relationship, friendship and so on. I developed a kind of hobby of reading and am very happy that it still persists. All these things helped me to improve myself or I should say to uplift my confidence. Then ‘self ego’ came into existence. Though I enjoyed every moments since then but the way had been changed completely. Now the pleasure shifted in reading books, writing poems and speaking on various issues in public. I can say my inner knowledge has been lit up but have been feeling a complete void something middle of my heart. There are many things which I have been missing since then. I cann’t dance so passionately, not able to talk to my friends in the similar way as I used to do earlier. They might have complaint about it but what could I do. Now things have been changed a lot. This ‘self ego’ taught me to fight for myself or for my existence among my peers.

I know I am not happier but am very satisfied. I have my own way to do things, my own life style and a vision to see this word in a new look. I need these changes to be sustained for a long time to fight against my incompetencies.