Mountains - in response to a friends thoughts

The rumble of burning engines, a distant sound;
gentle moist drizzle, trickling down my face;
silent monoliths invite my uncaring feet;
pure and gentle mistrals greet my countenance;
blades of grass, millions forming a gentle sheet;
feathery brush, berries still green.
Bottlebrush coyly gazing at its own reflection,
swaying in abandon at its own direction;
lavender and peach canopied trees;
mooing cows, crowing roosters, cackling geese;
all carried by the gentle breeze.
The words are there, not cast asunder;
I lack the time, not literary thunder.
The rumble of burning engines, a distant sound,
paradise lost, paradise found.

Observations on my Mumbai flight

The Ecstasy of Innocence

headphones suddenly found

by a little child, while the plane was still on the ground,

gentle gestures, curious minds

parents ignorant, thoughts in a bind,

soft words loudly spoken,

tolerant travelers, silences broken,

two little brothers bound in a pact,

first time flying, not corrupted by tact

a journey of sorts more than one,

our plane flew onwards to the setting sun,

a delighted exclamation in first flight,

loudly appreciating the aerial sight,

peering eyes, they look for their home,

their city to them, prettier than Rome,

a larger view, yet everything so small,

little boys missing the paradox in it all.

The ecstasy of innocense, the beauty of flight.

Reality?

Gentle sensations
Fragrant memories
A little thought
A vision conjured
Suddenly she is alive
Apparition or reality?
When reality is gone
The memory will survive
In my little world
she will become a sensation.
Tell me, which is reality - which the apparition?

come little angel,
give me your sorrow,
for i am nothing but your tomorrow,
before we commit,
you have a little smile that i need to borrow.
I trust you have tears,
I too have fears,
Love, vision, mirage, the delusion endears.
They call it love, with such watery eyes,
Tarry just a little, event the delusion dies.

Just the thought hurts so much, cant even think how harsh the reality would be.

A silent scream, piercing through the darkness
Does your heart hear it too?

A throbbing heart writhing in pain
Wondering if it was all in vain.
A mother sitting by a motionless child,
crazed mind, emotions wild,

A silent scream, piercing through the darkness
Does your heart hear it too?

Memories of bowls and dishes sterile
Endless spills, cleaning futile
Tiresome days satisfied armpits
Where her baby’s little head snuggles and sits

A silent scream, piercing through the darkness
Does your heart hear it too?

Little feet and their pitter patter,
Tirelessly evading a beseeching platter,
Mutliple colours on stainless steel
Carelessly sitting on a rubber wheel

A silent scream, piercing through the darkness
Does your heart hear it too?

To friends again, also to the ones I dont see anymore

enjoying your lives as you whizz by,
trying hard to keep up pace
with your sprightly steps and amazing grace.
to each of you I wish the best.
thank you all, our friendship has withstood time,
changing fortunes, changing climes,
whilst we moved on from nursery rhymes.

To friends on a monday morning!!

another weekend out of 52,
another year will also pass,
meaningless soirees meagre interaction,
intellectually moved just a fraction,
to sit and talk or interact with meaning,
to exchange thoughts and consider leanings,
one on one or a little more,
to use a seven iron and cry out fore,
fervently discuss within the foursome,
in crocodile tees each one so handsome,
of likened minds that rush to the cart,
leaving home for an early start,
saturday nights and hung over sundays,
why do we not meaningfully gather, to sit and imbibe of meaningful thought?
I need you to bounce my careless thought,
to see what ought to be and what not.
So walk with me my splendid friend,
and talk with me my splendid friend.
Take me to my journeys end.
Love me as you always did
Be the light when I am dark
Be my float when I am heavy,
Be around throughout my travels,
Share with me whilst our life unravels.

A recent judgement passed by the Delhi high court that I beleive will be helpful to all. It relates to a married daughters right to reside with her father and eviction. Theres a bit of a constitutional flavor to it that would interest people.

http://delhicourts.nic.in/Sep08/Subhash%20Chander%20Gupta%20Vs.%20Vasudev%20Kumar.pdf

A blog of my own

"श्री"

"Art for arts sake, or art for the people? Artists dilemma"

Pat came the response when I asked Vishruta "what is expected of me on a blog? Should I type things that I believe people want to see or should I let my fingers ramble on?"

Given a choice, ramble on I will. Art for arts sake, pretentious, but worth a try. I am no artist after all.

Now to why I wanted the blog. Is it because it is the ultimate form of self adulation. My thoughts deserve to be out there for all to learn or see, right? Yes at first and on second thoughts, No! Each visitor to my blog , I am told, can comment (thank you for stopping by, and thanks but no thanks). Thats completely out of control, criticism and that too of my thoughts or me, a definite no no. For that reason, the pragmatic control freak in me started weighing the pros and cons.

I want the blog because I am told that it is a way for me to reach several individuals regardless of whether or not they are on my friends /contacts list. My objective is dual, firstly, maximize traffic, therfore, include as many relevant words as I can think of, so that anyone searching for something on those words will chance upon this blog, so that is the "thanks for stopping by" bit (I can make money selling adspace).

The second is to ensure that each visitor chances upon such views as would elicit diverse responses, that would be "the enlighten me" bit. In addition, hopefully between my now middle aged friends and I, we can help some of the younger lot understand the true meaning of nirvana.

माया मिले और राम।

Cliched and borrowed as it may sound, I finally have a blog of my own।

ओस्स्स्म्म्म!!