Destiny’ Child

Here lives a lone guy,
Said as,
He walks and runs,
On the roads and streets.
Forming a circle around,
Poor flower seller mother,
With all spirits.

Missing father’s roof,
and a brother’s shoulder,
– Almost forever.

His friends left,
And fled away, on his fate,
Some blaming,
Some patting sympathy,
And some smiling in corners.
None to accompany.

Selling newspapers,
Thousands of words intact,
But he never understood,
Those lines written there.
He asks – why?
Unanswered forever !

He keeps looking,
For some buyer,
Selling those words,
In the lifeless papers.

For few coins,
If not, then,
Just few words from heart,
Walks here,
To sell papers,
Destiny’s poor child.

We – the puppets

I am a puppet,
May be like you,
Decorated one,
On the roadshow.

Tied with strings,Puppets
Lifeless strings,
Invisible ones,
To give life in me.

Its our painted smile,
Nicely colored one,
Under the bright sun,
Puppets on roadside.

The masters smile,
When audience clap,
When they praise.
Strings we do play.

The masters feel proud,
As puppets look sound,
The masters feel sad,
When show goes bad.

We are the choice and,
Life of the masters,
Play of the masters,
Like you, I am a puppet.

Under our toy figures,
We feel love, but feared or shy.
Under their boxes, we do cry.
Our masters – tell us why ?

I know – our masters,
Why you all too cry,
When you feel helpless,
Under some supreme high.

Harvesting casual blogging

Have I ever asked myself, like all the bloggers, why do I blog, frequently / infrequently ? Yes, I did asked, and the answer is like most of you, just to pen down ‘something’. It has been well proved in the blogosphere that, if literary interest is there, this hobby of reading – writing , turns out as addiction becomes quite difficult to leave. At some place, I have read – A post a day, keeps the doctor away ! Like everyone, my blog too surfed several ups and down. Long back, one time at the verge of complete deletion ! And fortunately, it stood stronger with self will.

I am trying hard to be just-me and not ME, and look around. There is much more around ‘me’, that’s moving with a surprising consistency, and I am just a part of it. “Do look outward” vibrations of these lines do help me. Be it managing the team at workplace or family, outward look, paid well. And here in blogging outward looking is write ups on the society, economy, politics, science, literature and so one. On these topics, though I always have written casually, there have been times, they are taken to be published as the content of other sites too. This is the fourth time, when something written as just another pieces of write-ups got prominent place at another site. For many writers this is “what’s important about it? “. For me, if nothing important, these kept me boosting, at least. I had at least risen quite far above the complexion of “No one reads me !” as I had in early days of blogging. I am in a wider circle of readers now.

Now, I did feel happy when my casual writings on “Rubberi devi” and “Tea-production” has been taken to be published in Bihar dedicated site‘s content. Thanks to the self – starters of the site, Shalini and his team and their unconventional hobby.

I was told that normal human don’t use, even 15% of their potential. I will keep writing. I have nothing much to give you apart from these words as long as I have necessary supports to grow.

Fostering the generations

At the childhood, all the children of one family look same, and so do happens same in next generation too. And after two generation, between two individuals of same age group , much of difference can be seen.

This reality hit me hard, when I was at nani’s place in holidays for a short time.

Beginning childhood, initially every individual gets same set of facilities / punishments, but later on individual themselves chooses out the preferred one. Keep apart the facts of individuality, but there is something more important, that makes a huge difference of status so do the thinking level between two individual, divided out of two branches of same tree trunk.

When both individual from two respective generations meet, if the status difference is much, one feels inferior to other and vice verse. I am not a student of sociology or related discipline, thus I dare not to go in-depth. But in plain words, I can say that its the attitude of growth with added education.

Of course at the moment some individual remains there with willingness intact, who becomes the pillar of saplings for growth.

Though the scenario at nani’s place had been much glittering, had my nani was permitted to do the teacher’s job and continue with her education. On just seeing her reading a book, the English school inspector gave her an appointment letter.

Meet her to know her. Now she may be around 70 + . Still today her memory is extraordinarily sharp. About people, places and events, her narration is flawless. I keep looking to her, as her narration is always well weaved. If I give her story books / novel to read, she can finish up faster than me. She can recite without mistake, the long poems at a stretch, she learnt / read sometimes. A perfect pativrata – a perfect Devi “Savitri”, as her name is. I would rather not comment on this , as they are happy with each other, and more in love, it seems. When I was child, I stayed with nani at village for about one year, as Pinky was just born and Ma’s exams were there along with school ! Though at village, her ill maintained cracked feet and toes pained me, but practically I am for use of hers now.

This time while having lunch, she was making me understand the Bengali poem of Michael Madhusudan Dutt, who wrote one for her mother (And consequently she was, pouring more rice in my plate between my no-no hands). She was making me understand , how Micheal missed the mother and motherland in later life.

My nani tells, how she managed the family with a nana’s head-clerk’s job and deed-honesty. He was the first Matric pass of the area ! Her family grew up educated at higher level than nana’s other brother’s family. Now today, she feels contented a bit with some dreams fulfilled as she is the secretary of the middle school’s society.

The current generation is stable now, but still, I do guess, the next 20 years will bring a remarkable difference again, as apart from education there are something more, that’s called values related to integrity. These may be related to personality, family or social place.

Education available at hand is not everything, but the tendency to pick them up for right situation matters. I have seen families, when a famous surgeon’s needed Rs. 15 lakhs donation to admit his son for a MBBS degree from a private college. Famous professor son is unable to find a primary teacher’s job. And the landlord’s son is trying to sell of paternal property, and “thinking hard to decide” to start some business.

Ma tells / warns these things this way – ” I have all material things of my own, just my own. Thankfully – God have given you all body parts intact. The best education opportunities are given to you. Now make your own destiny. ” For a long time, I did not understood this statement.

About inherited property, she gives example of big Jewelery houses, Tatas and Ambani’s whose business is still carried up by the generation next with prosperity added. The basic ingredient that carried them forward : the tendency to excel, the tendency to struggle of own, the tendency to be strong enough to stand on own feet without much support.

Tendencies intact, when the bed of roses, material or abstract, comes by heredity, then they are luckiest, if they can see the opportunity in front of them.

Metro Cookies

I am a smart guy now. And I did not carried any bag with me, while returning from office. Never I felt any need to buy a plastic jhola bag, as its used in home. I can’t carry plastic bags as my father use to do, keeping one inside his office bag.

Anyway food is needed for all generations , be was for old thought’s gen-ABC or current my gen-X. If you are calorie conscious and maintaining the waist size and blah blah, count all calories spent and to be consumed before eating a bit of popcorn.

If you are not a fast food addict, you can try some slow cooking too , but the precondition is you should have necessary PQ. Never heard this term, don’t worry, I will give gyan. Patience Quotient (PQ) is something, never taught in text-books. But one thing I know is, PQ’s lowest level is the red-chilli sauce ready to pop-up the bottle seal and highest level is the ice-cream pack kept in the deep freezer) .

So if you can go for slow cooking, tips from me – put a framed photo of Sanjeev Kapoor of Khana-Khazana fame , in the kitchen, and do experiments. My days are going busy otherwise, I have plans to be guest at Sanjeev’s house, one-day, to know, who really cooks at his home!

In any case while cooking, don’t remember Mother’s cooked food in those hungry hours, otherwise you shall not find anything tasty after cooking.

Anyway vitamins are needed to keep body and mind fit , and vegetables are great source of them. So I decided to buy some vegetables,while returning back from office. While choosing a vegetable shop, I think to help the business of small vendors rather than supermarket. What an excellent thought of socialism! Still no one awarded me, pity !

I buy some vegetables. As language problem is here, otherwise little price bargain would have taken place here too. Saving a rupees 2 is a great achievement.

As I am north Indian , I bought 1 kg potato, 500 grams of onions and 250 grams of tomato.

Had I been a South Indian, the quantities might have reversed here. Me, some Gundappaswami Premnathan could have bought, 1 Kg of tomato and 500 grams of onion and 250 grams of potato.

Of course the shopping list is long, but wouldn’t mention details, otherwise, I have cook it here ! But worth to mention that after all vegetable and groceries bought, it became the congregation of 7 plastic bags. Now my left hand’s each finger got some responsibility, though unevenly distribute. Right hand is free but with big plastic carry bag , with addtional role to carry mobile phone, as its my brains outer part. My brain’s connectivity with whole world is most important.

Though any call can arrive any moment and I have to attend that at any cost. I do cross the road, but why should I be careful while crossing the road, the drivers must understand, that I am talking on a serious topic.

Anyway I am not sure, while crossing road, if my all plastic bags will be intact, when Driver too would be attending the call of her worried wife, while driving.

I crossed the road successfully, oh no, usually, like thousands others are crossing in India. I reached the home. But here cooking is still to be done…

Making Myself Smart

I am a small town’s ordinary guy, looking khalis XYZ… stumbled into this corporate world. I am writing it, as I want to look smart.

Today, Reebok logo sneaks out from my shoes ! To mention, I took care of that logo while purchasing the shoe as it should be seen prominently. My grandma will laugh aloud, if she hears the price. But I have to buy that one here for so called my feet’s comfort and of course a show off !

While walking, I do take care that my branded jean’s logo sticker reflects itself from my butt. Levis Strauss will get at least one compliment from my colleague. I preferred to change my specs and replaced with newer frameless ones, from the showroom of Lawrence and Mayo. My T-Shirt declares that – I am imported Nike. I walk composed with effervescence of some fine deo into the air around, as girls like them !

With so many self learnt tricks of looking smart, I learnt the art of saying “Hi” after widening my lips.

I am trying to adapt the metro culture here in Bangalore.

Though I am a avid lover of movies especially thematic ones, since last one year in Bangalore, with such nice multiplexes, I still have to enter some hall. May be its going to be 2 years that I have been to a cinema hall. Blame not still having allocated money to be spent for my dear-friends or not having sufficient time on weekends. I do wish to go, but when my own people will be around here ! Funny, is not !

Its my personal preference that, my real life activity partners and friends don’t even appear in the friend list of Orkut, whoever there are, better to call them acquaintances. Some of them never registered even there.

Keep reading, now to confess, few days back, I did asked one of my expert classmate, what is flirting ! He laughed a lot, and gave me some tips. I wished, had I learnt them earlier. Similarly last year I asked another friend, what is dating. What girls and guys do in dating ? Shy… I felt while I asked the question. Though I don’t want to appear dumb, but wanted to know, as small towns doesn’t give much opportunity to learn this art/science of knowing the opposite sex better !

In metro, these lessons seem necessary for majority of smart junta. Experimentation / time pass / natural need of sharing emotions, and of course, knowing each other may be basic purpose of dating. Though after writing this post again, I may not fit the dating frame. So I sit on net with my eyes wide open. Now in the orkuted world, I went through many the profiles and found these are the things, which ‘turns on’ the people and are needed, as per today’s open culture.

Anyway in real life, as not matured enough, I miss a bigger circle here, and hence the scopes of enjoyment available, as I didn’t learnt the art of occassional cocktail parties, flirting, making fun of silly action of others and to show off my branded butt.

On last sunday, my hopping into the popular book stacks at Landmark, gave me the conclusion that – there are tallest stacks of the books – “Five Point Someone ” and “A night at Call Center”. I have long back finished them off. Well written ones. Near by other stacks of books are APJ Abdul kalam’s national dreams and personality development books (that I rarely read). I have been given enough diet of life leading Sanskrit slokas in childhood only.

And the whole episode of these different popular book stacks suggests the changing pattern of life style of Gen-X ( hence reading ).

Fast food is everything – be it literature after using less and less brain to understand it, add fun to life, and dreams of a golden India, and fastest personality development methods – yes there are countable number of methods to develop the personality. Cook well and serve them – ready to eat and digest.

Worth to mention here, body hugging t-shirt and jeans girls are looking smarter than small town shy salwar-kurta girls. Cool and S*** – two words can be used to flirt with girls here ! I do feel envy of pairs, hand tied at the restaurants. Have to scold / make fun of some one – use F***.

The fact is this culture is trying to attract me and I am trying to be myself – mixing up two blends. The perfect cocktail. Even if, have I been blessed to be in that circle with all joys, I could never been happy at the end of day.

To me are the blessed points, as I am happy and content with myself and a job – that I really love to do, my creative hobbies and my real activity partners here / net.

For the instances of look, I started to write, I do wish I would have been happier, if I could walk into my Bata Jubilee  leather sandals, and unknown company’s jean’s sticker covered with my kurta with natural giggles, and do participate in some cultural groups around and feel, Yeah I am doing something for my inner satisfaction !

Hope, I do look smart !

Past to Present 6 – Her Belongings

In front of our eyes,
Today evening,
Within all gossips,
All laughter and tears,
That sublimes with time.

She picks up,
Her belongings,
Looks them.

Keeps them,
Back again,
In known corners.
As if they are useless,
Like her body,
Never were hers.

And her eyes have,
A question intact,
For the eyes around.
Is there any,
Just one child,
Among so many,
Who shall carry?
Her traditions,
Her hopes,
Her dreams.

Just one child,
To keep,
Those old,
Few broken jewelry,
She never repaired.
To keep intact,
The real brilliance.
The timed faintness.

And today she,
Fears being sold,
Fears being useless,
Like another metal.
Like everything !

And suggests,
To melt down !
To put in new designs !
To carry forward,
May be not the Gold,
But her golden moments
Associated with them !

As her last hope.
Seems melting today.

She never unfolded,
Her pink saree.
Kept like that.
The fibre pack,
Still colored,
Emitting orange rays,
Lying within vermillion,
Of her marriage.

Today she looks,
Around us,
Dry lips shut.
Those eyes,
Below wrinkles of her,
Asks a question,
Her Belongings !

Gauri and Budhiya

Dedicating to a characteristic – when a creature want to live for others, and she made me keep writing again.

Gauri was our cow 18 years old !

I reached home 24th Feb. early morning. And apart from human pairs of eyes, a so called animal’s eyes seemed waiting for me. Whether just for me, I don’t know.

Casual roaming around home premises, I saw her, our Gauri sitting permanently beside the walls, with occasional drops of tear flowing down her eyes. She was being feed in sitting posture since last few days as her hind legs got paralyzed without any specific reason.

I suggested Sambhu, our caretaker of cattle, to feed her favorite green grass (dub) , with that she may gain strength. She always needed our touch. I put more paddy straws, under her immobile belly as in these days we still needed quilts in night there. Veterinary uncle, who know all of our cattle, suggested not to put any treatment pressure on her legs. Let her live to her best, as she is.

And today is 2nd March. In the very morning, we all had wet eyes, as Gauri seemed to appear in just sitting posture but actually she left for the heavenly abode.

Green grass was still lying still in her basket. And a straw of yellow straw, she seemed chewing. None could believe that she is no more.

Ma told not to cry at all, as on cow’s peaceful death, one should not cry. Though controlled, was she honest really to herself !

Prior night, at dinner table we discussed about her falling health, but we all failed to get a glimpse at night of hers in talking other things, and we thought she will live for some more time or may gain back her strength to stand. Though I guessed that she might recover with some miracle, but I had a faint thought, if I leave for Bangalore after three days, will I be able to see her again.

She died with a wish of bearing a calf ever.

Our determination to keep an infertile cow for 18 years was a matter of non-sense decision with loads of suggestions around. For children playing cricket in front of our house, Gauri, having a short stature, was a matter of love, as she was the simpler than anything. Annoying point was that, she was the object of desire for the animal brokers!

To the needed persons, ma’s reply used to be “Her mother fed my all children, can’t I keep her last one without asking for milk.”

As Civil Surgeons’ specially regulated medicines and other uterine treatments, traditional medicines, and best possible fertility treatments could not help her conceive a calf ever.

Another reason we kept her without asking for anything was, Ma could not see the last day of her mother. Her mother budhiya was Ma’s best company to feed us with her nutritious milk.

On memorizing Budhiya’s last days, her voice saddens always.


From our farmlands in suburbs, majority of cattle feeding requirements fulfilled, we do keep cows as per Hindu traditions. The purpose never was or is for economical benefits from cattle, cows only, now just two. May be it’s for auspicious reasons and having pure milk of home.

Budhiya, was our first cow bought to feed my infant sister, Pinky. Her milk used to be full of cream. As we grew, we got habituated to take dudh-roti ( milk-bread ) after dinner daily and we saw several of her calves growing as we grew up. Most of her calves grown into milking cows and few to ox – sent to other places. Though the cows were never sold, was given to others.

Gauri was born as last calf of “Budhiya”, when we completed the construction of our new home.

Year 1889, when our griha pravesh ( house inauguration) function was being performed, along with my parents, as per customs, a perfect white calf , christened as Gauri, accompanied her mother Budhiya and took the rounds of our newly built home

Though Budhiya had little horns, she always threatened us in childhood, if we try to touch her little calves. Those times, we feared her.

Years passed off.

Budhiya became old. Her height seemed shortened, tooth eroded and used to take finer grains and straws only. One day she stopped taking food and water. And none of male member was at home. Ma at Nani’s place. Papa at working place and me in hostel. Sisters called up nearby uncle and veterinary hospital’s uncle. Every thing seemed useless to revive her health.

She sat down finally. Her ropes of neck were freed up, as it’s customary to keep without ropes, when hopes of cow’s life blink faint.

Day 1 passed off. She was looking for someone.. Day 2 and day 3 passed off. Blame the poor communication facilities those days. On those days Ma was eager to come home back, but she could not as having ill health of nani.

Budhiya Passed off with eyes wide open! Though, didi did all Gangajal rituals. While returned home back, Ma saw an empty cowshed. She could not see her last days. She cried for days !

Budhiya was buried at our backyards, on his burial place, now grows green trees.


Today is 2nd March. Her last calf – Gauri was being kept in the grave forever.

As now the backyard is full of teak trees, we men, carried her body (corpse!) to our farm land. At a corner, rectangular wide and deep land was dug up.

“In which direction her head should be kept ?” – Shambhu asked me, before our cow Gauri was to be put in grave.

I did not know exactly hence asked Patoriwala for the confirmation. It was north.

We kept pouring soil to cover her grave. While pouring soil with shovel, one moment , my emotions were telling jut to look her face back again for last time, taking out all soil put on her, as if how she looked !

But I know the five elements, I kept pouring and pouring !

And we made a square platform over the grave.

She remained a lowest maintained animal, with no complaint practically, with occasional fines that we had to pay, when she used to do graze someone’s paddy / wheat ignorantly.

We bore everything, as our insignificant fines were of no means as those of her of infertility.

Her eyes used to have tears when we bring back from hospital / Gaushala with hopes of fertility. She used to love all the calves grown in front of her eyes. She was several times hit by other cows for her this behavior! Gauri didn’t give us a single drop of milk, but we never complaint ever as we could understand her pains always. She couldn’t speak. While washing / caressing her back belly down, she used to stay calmer!

Today she is not more, with a perfect sitting posture till the last moment, she never let feel anyone that she is no more….. !

Flying Forever

From the altitudes,
More than 30,000 feet.
I was searching,
The creatures like me !

I could not see,
Not even as a point.
Beyond my – me.
Beyond the stories,
Beyond Poems,
Beyond Everything.

Though having a fear,
To fall on earth,
That is full of my – me.
I do wonder,
Why still I wanted,
To perch safely on land ?

Though I landed again,
With hopes to fly again,
I wish to fly,
Into the truth,
The ultimate one.

Above the cotton clouds,
Above the blue waters,
Above the rocky mountains,
Above the horizons,
Where do we belong.