Epitaph

They sat on the beach,
The waves kept falling at their feet,
There was little talk, they held hands,
The stars shone bright, but left little home for delight,
As she sobbed and wept and cried in her brothers arms.

It was such a night,
A night so beautiful,
With calm waves and moonlight,
But with all this it still wouldn’t feel alright.

They then talked all night,
Talked of things they’d done right,
And things they’d done wrong,
Of all the love they didn’t give,
Of the love they didn’t get.
They talked of the oceans,
And what it had given,
But now more so , of what it had taken.

It had been a ride, one big ride so far,
And what would it be tomorrow,
They never knew, and never cared.
And so they sat, arm and shoudler,
Listening to the whistle of the winds.

They wrote the words yet again,
Only to hear the sea laugh,
And wash off the bitter epitaph,
It was hopeless, but was needed,
The words kept sounding back,

“Get up my children?”

The sea now didn’t feel bad,
The silence was deafening, but the hope was back,
As they sat, arm and shoulder,
Waiting for the new dawn to crack.

 

Love|Children|Passion|Arguments!

In the past year and a half I have been through healthy, not so healthy, witty, sometimes obnoxious arguments with my friends, peers, or just people I’d met or seen while on the move. This has been quite a different experience, I say so, since for so long I have not been much into arguments persay, but I ve seen myself as a diplomat and now suddenly I find my diplomatic tendencies only being bolstered by way of arguments.

Love is so surreal to anyone who is not in love. I guess I am putting too much weight on one four letter word while the more famous one had a Phd written on it by Bhagwan himself. Anyways , coming back to the argument on arguments, I feel lovers can have some of the most intense and some of the most silly arguments. Ranging from things as petty as “Who ll have the last crumb..err first crumb?” , to deep insights on the male-female imbalances, to even subjects as far as political sciences, the climate around the world, world music, the list is endless.These normally are the most captivating and engaging ones you can see and I can say I have been fortunate to have been on the hearing side of a few in the recent past. Therein I have found that , be it man or woman the vengeance and determination in putting ones point across has the same zeal. On this note, I have to add that I have always beleived in th Chinese yin-yan philosophy which relates to everything from man-woman, digitisation(one-zero) to heat-cold, black-white n so it goes. Well, it is but a stream of thought and thoughts are the trigger for arguments, misconceptions, as well as for understanding and realisation.Thoughts are but a flow of the mind, over which one can lose or gain control. It is the fine line between losing and gaining control that leads to arguments.

What is an argument? I find the below to be the closest in meaning to my idea of an argument

“a discussion in which reasons are advanced for and against some proposition or proposal ” -info courtsey www.elook.org.

The argument , for some reason, is always seen in a negative light. I feel arguing is something that should be inculcated at a very young age. It is inherently present in all chidren, in the form of inquisition. The innocent and genuine interest in a child to question about something that she has not seen/heard/felt before is the most primitive form of argument. She could very easily think of the new happening as just something new, and leave it. But unless curbed by someone a child will always try to question, to learn. The first time a child gets to see ice/ice cream he is fascinated by the look, the colour, the taste , the sheer beauty of the whole thing. As time goes some of these senses take more weight and, as his viewpoints narrow down, he finds himself exhitibiting favouritism. I would term this as the adolescent face of destruction of creativity. This narrowing down is not a natural process. It is well fed by the society and that part of the society which is in close interaction with the child. In many cases it could be the parents, but in most cases it is someone whom the child grows to adore and take for granted until she feels betrayed at some point in time. This again, in most cases is not done with malevolent intent by the person I am talking about, but its just the inherent tendency in people to orient and advise the child in the form they feel is fit, without realising what the child feels about it. I feel it is this confidence to question, that has to be inculcated at a very young age.

Yes, now the question arises ,”just how much freedom of opinion should a child be nurtured to have?”. I would say total freedom. Yes, but again this does not in any way suggest that the child will end up having his way all the time, but just make him aware of what he can know, what he cannot know, and in such cases, why he cannot know, or why he better not know and so on and so forth. The child should thus be infused with confidence daring and compassion. Passion is something I feel has a big role to play in any persons life, and if it is not, then it should be made to play a major role. The fact is that everyone has desires , as long as he is mortal, and a strong positive desire is what I describe as passion here. This , in some form will reside in him as long as he acheives it, whether he is actually working for it, or is going in a wrong direction away from it due to external compulsions. Knowing and realising this is very important for concentrating on any task at hand. Well I say this because anyone who is passionate will have the mentality to empathise with others passions help them realise it. Again knowing this passion at a very young age helps. Thus a child should have the right to question at any time, should be given time to realise his passion and follow it, and should be disiplined to know what discipline is( and nothing above it ). Finally everyone is an individual in this world , with his own thoughts and his own big things to contribute. Everyone has the inborn goodness which has to be safeguarded.

So from arguments to children to the final destination , Love. Everything starts and ends in love. A child is born out of love and and we exit mortality in an embrace of love and death. Man survives his life out of love for someone/something. So a child has to learn of love. It is a the ultimate test, whether it be to find a soulmate, help a friend indeep distress, or more nobly help humanity attain great heights. Love makes us selfless, humble, caring, brotherly, sisterly, motherly,fatherly ..I guess I ve stated my point.and so I stop. It has been a long lecture I guess, but I think its necessary that each and every person thinks deeply about all this , and I guess everyone does at some point in time.Well this was mine and therein my post ends, with heaps of love for all. Peace.

PS -> Imagine, Introspect and Intervene Innoucously and Intelligently.

 

Flipkart.com

A couple of days back I happened to stumble into this really nifty n thrifty site called flipkart.com while looking out for online bookshops. It turned out to be a good find, what with them offering good discounts and free shipping. Ordered a couple of books , should be receiving them in 3 days , as per the website. So waiting for it to pass a judgement on the shipping quality and speed. But so far , so good. Nice simple pleasing design , easy to use shopping cart;payment gateways, and a decent( not huge like the well established ones) collection of books makes it worth a visit. I just hope there will be more takers for it and more reviews on the books on offer. So have a look and I ll post the finishing touches once I have the paperbacks in hand.Ciao for now.

PS –> I just received the books, neat service :)..So thumbs up !

 

Cricket Money and the IPL!

From test match cricket to One Day Cricket to World Series cricket to 20-20 cricket , the game has come a long way ;tugging technology , controversies and truckloads of money along with it. But the finesse of the batsmen and the firepower of the bowlers, I feel , have been more or less the same. You might find a Jayasuriya hitting 11 sixes and finishing off a match in no time; but would not a Viv Richards have done the same, or for that matter, a Kapil Dev. And here is why I find the argument that IPL helps improve the game , as many cricketers and cricket lovers have put it, a bit high priced. Now there is this other notion that IPL has helped reap new talent like Abhishek Nayyar and Ravindra Jadeja. Could the same talent not have been spotted in a Ranji game? When it comes to power , money and capitalism , one has to be careful not lose touch with the “GAME”. I am no old timer or a conservative who would shy away from watching the IPL, because it is entertainment and that is what it is !! All I am saying is there is more than enough entertainment for the world ON the idot box and OFF it. Why make a mockery out of the game?
Let Shane Warne start a Jaipur academy to coach yound kids and upcoming players. Let sense prevail. Let there be IPL, but moderate the prices, give value to players , dont make it a corporate farce.

PS - I am not against the IPL, but I feel that there are too many stakes in it. The same money could be used to build world class stadiums, train worlds class athletes, and what not! When the flow is strong we dont realise the value of water and when it trickles we wont have the strength to realise.Peace!

 

Internete’ arrive’

So finally the seemingly inevitable has happened. The “net” hath arrived at our home away from home, in Chennai. So now here I am alive and kicking, back on like a new born baby. Yeah , you might find this a touch too glitzy and flashy for a seemingly petty thing, but I guess the suffocation that has been there for the past one year and a half without being “tuned in” on the latest in the e-world has been more than I imagined it would be. Anyways now that ‘it’ is here, am I better off?

Well, I do not know for sure. But this brings me to the subject of indispensability. How indispensable is the internet today? From downloading the latest of bits n bytes to learning about the ‘1 second back’ gossip via RSS, the interest and utility it generates is behemoth. This now brings me to the important question of wastage. How much of the time that people spend in “browsing” is worthwhile? I guess half the time is spent in finding out what they want (despite having the best in search). The rest is spent filtering this information, only to find that in half the cases the details found do not match his/her “requirements”! What a big waste! Actually its not, and here comes the important part, book marking. Book marking I would say, is like making contacts in the real world. The more contacts you make, the better equipped you are at any point of time. The same goes with bookmarks. The seemingly tedious but futile efforts that have been put into finding something could be used in reaping a heap load of important links to the future. You know what will be important to you, and so you can decide in a fraction of a second saving maybe an hour of effort at a telling time later. So earmark some time to this simple but highly useful activity and enjoy life!!

PS — Guess I am not in a mood for writing an epic, so, until next time!

 

From the ‘Bot’tom of my heart

There were men that sang,
And those that danced,
And then there were men who thought,
Thoughts that sang, thoughts that danced.
 Of Such great men I have known but few,
Known in thoughts and words that danced.

The universe is huge, the galaxies are large,
But one small mind could see them all,
The mind has gone, the deep thoughts yet remain,
Remain in reality as humanity’s gain.

—In remembrance of the great sci-fi writer, thinker and philosopher — Sir Arthur C Clarke.

 

Truth in Boredom

The whole floor was empty,
He sat , his legs curled up,
Hands fiddling the worn pages,
As he skimmed through
With an absense of direction.

He felt strong, felt sorry for the world,
Being alone bolstered his thoughts.
He looked at ‘Che’ on the wall,
And then at the newspaper,
It all looked the same
But it couldn’t be more different.

Drops of rain began their incessant beat on glass,
He stood up , stretching his arms,
Pushed back the chair in place,
And walked out, slinging his bag across his back,
Whistling a romantic tune,
Embracing the rain, with a troubled mind ,but a free soul.

 

Love

The paper was worn,
Though not with age,
Clean but worn, but handled with love.
The words were simple yet sweet,
She read it aloud, but no one heard,
She read it again, her ears were ringing,
Was this it, Is this Love?

He turned and twisted,
Battling to sleep,
Disturbed by the soft song he’d turned on,
He had ne’er been so excited,
Ne’er been so tense,
He knew for sure,
This was love.

She was just learning,
Learning of love,
But she knew she was bitten,
That love had turned LOVE.

Morning had come,
Fresh and Fragrant,
She lined her eyes with kohl,
And went out to meet her soul.

 

Phases

The night was silent,
Feigning reverence to a cloaked sky,
Movement, None at all,
But the heart kept pounding,
Equating to nothing.

Thoughts fluttered,
Indecisive, Improper,
Invalid, Irksome,
What’s to be done??
Is there a way out!!

He felt the need to cry,
Custom and ego still haunted him,
He was a picture of disguise,
Nothing but his eyes gave it away.

A comforting hand, a soul to share,
He had it all, but din’t have any,
He felt alone, but wanted to be,
And so he lay, his eyes closed.

Gathered soon by the reins of sleep,
His still form adding to the reverie,
Breathing new life, the sun came through,
He blinked, took a deep breath,
And prepared for another ordeal that lay ahead.

 

Teardrop

The air was filled with happy cries,
There was joy in every face,
Among the cluster of frolicking children,
There sat a boy gloomy and sad,
Whose face was filled with sublime loneliness,
Who sat immersed within his thoughts.

A ball of red came floating by,
He turned his head ,his eyes lit up,
He stood up and stretched out his hand,
As far,As high,
As his small hands could get.

The air between his hand and red,
Took hold of him like magnetic thread,
He ran in glee,His thoughts were free,
He crossed the field in ecstacy.

And then it came tearing down,
A gush of wind pulling it to ground,
He clapped his hands,got on his knees,
And soon his face glowed red in the light,
And the smiling face was full of delight.

But then Alas,there was a bang,
He fell down ,His ears rang,
Emptiness filled the evening sky,
Alone again,sad and weak,
As a tear came rolling down his cheek.