Maybe...

Maybe I am too bad
But I am good enough to know the bad I do
Maybe I am too good
But I am bad to not know that it is not enough
Maybe I am too naive
But I am too good a cynic to overwhelm them
Maybe I am too rude
But I am polite enough to tell them the truth
Maybe I am too boring
But I am crazy enough to laugh my heart out
Maybe I am too mad
But I am sane enough to keep it to myself
Maybe I am too bold
But I am also a coward to know what kills me
Maybe I am too hysterical

But I am calm enough to listen to them
Maybe I am too impatient
But I am patient enough to be with them always
Maybe I am too old
But I am younger than ever to chase my dreams
Maybe I am too young
But I am old enough to know what they mean to me
Maybe I love too much
But I hate them to not love me more.
Who am I? What am I? How am I?
Maybe I am Them..or maybe I am just ME..Well Maybe...

The Not So Common “Commoner”

I just happened to come across this news recently, headed as “Man challaned for ‘dangerously’ overtaking Robert Vadra’s car”. I had a stir of mix emotions within me, I was amused but at the same time full of pity for that man who was mischievously charged by the cops who are the best samples of people convincing you of the fact “ You silly commoner, Yes You! You are the unprivileged one!!” It reminded me of a similar experience, though maybe of a different intensity, of which I was the victim(since I was the unprivileged one here). Anyway, so this some random day, a some random girl was going to office. As she had to cross the very busy Delhi road, she might had expected being run over by a truck or car, but what she least expected was being pushed and dragged by a traffic cop!! Temperamental as she was and being a girl, she was agitated by this (but who cares) and started shouting at him. The cop who was at one instant “I am the man”, in the very next instant replied timidly “Madame ji, woh minister ki gadi pass honi hai (Mam, a minister’s car is about to pass)” This definitely drove me crazy. Even if the government is so concerned about its ministers’ security(which it should be), why does a common man going to office has to bear the consequences of a ruthless way of maintaining security!! Maybe that day, if I had had a car, and was racing my way so as to reach office on time, the cops could had charged me too for having some “evil intention” in overtaking the minister’s car. Why couldn’t they simply put some indication if it mattered to them that much! (Poor us!)…Well this was one aspect of it, just one side of the coin or rather more appropriately, just a branch of a tree much deeper rooted. In the social culture, when people(I said ‘people’ because I am one of them who certainly do not house that notion) are brought up, they are taught that some people are better than them and hence more deserving and these people live their whole life believing the same, without ever going to ‘why’ of the argument! (not to mention ‘premise+conclusion =argument’here). So these people genuinely believe that some people are the privileged one, and if anyone dares to refute this ideology of them, then you are the bad one and you have just earned yourself an enemy. I would elucidate this with yet another example (needless to say, I have been lucky enough to experience all this!). So this another random day, I decided to go on a shopping spree with my mother, as I was back home. I was just about to park my two-wheeler when this guard comes out of nowhere and tells me “ Madam yahan kyun park kari hai, yahan Mr. XYZ saab apni gadi park karenge” (Mam, why have you parked here, Mr. XYZ is going to park his car here) I tried to reason out with him that if the parking place was reserved for this Mr. XYZ of his. I figured out there was nothing of that sort but was adamant on his belief that “ blah blah blah” and refused to budge even an inch from his stupid belief. But I was adamant too, in the end my mother had to intervene in order to avoid the unnecessary argument and asked me to shift my vehicle a little. After being eyed as a criminal by this guard, I did not want to earn the wrath of my mother, and therefore did as she asked me to. I hope you got the point of citing this example. It nonetheless drives me nuts whenever I think about it. As I said, the problem is what we are taught to believe and lack of education makes it worse. In a democracy that we all pose to live in, but fail to understand the implications of it. We ourselves give some people unworthy privileges, who are not fool enough not to exploit it. People fail to understand that the government is meant to serve us, and not the other way round, that right to equality is not just a concept but a phenomenon that needs to be followed. That even while posting it, I might unduly hurt some people’s sentiments but again this is my idea and I give myself the privilege to voice it!!

Love In The Time Of Cholera: A Review

“one can be in love with several people at the same time, feel the same sorrow with each, and not betray any of them.” As many would think and at the very first instance would form conclusions about the person being discussed, right from him being a Casanova to the futility of his statement when the infidelity was discovered. Well then, let me tell you that this comes straight from a person, the about eighty year old Florentino Ariza, the protagonist of this story. Set in the backdrop of 20^th century, when civil wars were a common place and people died more due to epidemics than due to wars.

Florentino’s unrequited love for Fermina Daza forms the theme of the story that is followed by a rather incomprehensible determination in the wake of which one may wonder at the viability of it. Both of them, in their adolescence fell for each other but Fermina, owing to a temperament that marked her character throughout, soon describes it as a major infatuation and decides to move on and marry Dr. Juvenal Urbino instead. Juvenal Urbino, a popular doctor and a descendent to one of the known families in the town, unlike Florentino, who was an illegitimate child of a commoner. What, however marks the potency of the story is Florentino’s decision…He decides to take revenge? No..He decides to do something to Fermina’s husband so that then she would come back to him? No again..He decides to marry another woman? Well, no again…So what does he decide to do? He decides to wait..Wait for however long it takes; wait for the destiny to turn in his favour; wait without an assurance that it will not be futile; just a belief that one day Fermina will be his, even if it meant eternity. And eternity it was, for after fifty one years, when Juvenal succumbs to an accident does he decide to propose Fermina again.

The fifty years that entailed were not an easy passage of time, for Fermina, maybe since she had a family to grow up with but for Florentino, it involved many repercussions. He succumbed to the physical needs that came as he grew up and which implicated many sexual partners. Inspite of the special chemistry that he shared with each of them, was the intriguing fact that he always preserved his love and sanctity for Fermina, that he never thought of hurting any of his accomplices. An excerpt from the book reads when Fermina Daza was overwhelmed “A century ago, life screwed that poor man and me because we were too young, and now they want to do the same thing because we are too old”. A beautiful story that is remarkably woven around characters that are devoid of any malice, when fate plays a role that extends over a period of fifty years and that is expected to evolve and serve its purpose, in all its notoriety, by every eccentric character but does it succeed? Well, it is for you to find out. The narration is one that you enjoy, meanwhile feeling that lurch in the heart. It is undoubtedly one of the finest works of the Nobel laureate Gabriel Garcia Marquez and hopefully you will also relish it in all its charm.

LOST

We go to places and meet people without realizing how they become an integral part of our lives at that point of time. We miss them, when they are not around, we seek them when we need to talk, hold onto them when we need to cry, but bad as it may sound, all of it just goes away like the blink of an eye. The inception of it all is when the extent of utter that we had to discuss just diminishes. Futility begins to show its face in our efforts to stop the very dawn of it. The jokes that we once shared become plain and the ring of their laughter stops ringing the bell in our own ears. That picture of them with which they were personified becomes foggy- we forget how it used to be when they smiled or how dire it used to be when they were gloomy or how evil it used to be with their tricks played. We forget those looks with which we associated ourselves. And just when we wondered that this was all it was about, a gushing wave of remorse pulled us inside the ocean of setbacks. We realize that we had misplaced that one treasure that was so dear to us, which we had used in our minds repeatedly so as to be aware of that one being- we realize that we have lost the words, that we have lost that voice with which we identified ourselves. Voice, that could till now undo every missed step and could revive every expression. Voice, which was till now the witness to that fold of extinction. Voice, which was now gone and hence an exemplary of the being that was now lost.

Dil-e-nadaan

Ae dil tu naadan hi sahi
koi kahe jo tujhe khuddar hi sahi
hoti nahin hai ye duniya sada pyaari
logon ke shikve se tu duur hi sahi
Tu roya hai toh koi gham nahin
hasa hai jo, woh bhi toh khush nahin
laut aayega tu bhi yun hi haste hue
zindagi ye itni bhi khudgarz nahin
Kis kis ko tu din raat manayega
woh Khuda bhi kya isme kamyaab hua
us ruthe hue ko salaam hi sahi
Ae dil tu naadan hi sahi
~Manu

Ek khwaab aisa…

Palkon pe aisa ek khwaab sa hai
Beetein lamhon ka jaisa tarana sa hai
Un bhooli bhisri yaadon ke saaz ko chedta
Mano roshni bikherta koi nazrana sa hai
Palkon pe aisa ek khwaab sa hai

Aane wale palon ko choone ko bekaraar
Sapno ki duniya ko tatolte hue
Zindagi ki koi khuli kitaab sa hai
Palkon pe aisa ek khwaab sa hai

Teh karna chahte hain jo raaste hum
Un galiyon ka pata puchte hue
Koi nadiya ki dhara sa hai
Palkon pe aisa ek khwaab sa hai

Din raat chalke gir pade the hum
Andhere mein sahara deta
Kabhi na bujhne waali mashaal sa hai
Palkon pe aisa ek khwaab sa hai

Thak kar beech rah ruk jaane par
Sadiyon se vishwaas dilata
Kisi imaarat ki tarah khada bhi toh
Palkon pe aisa ek khwaab sa hai.

~Manu

Love…Unspoken…Unheard

 Amidst the blues of eternity I laid,

 a heart seeped with feelings yet gaping at the void that bounded it therein

 succumbed to the beautiful moment

 I had last night…my love on my laps gave me the serenity of heavens,

 with a kiss on my forehead I was the luckiest;

 his shoulder to lie on gave me my world;

 my name on his lips was the only thing I knew,

 but I was afraid, afraid of something new,

 he put my hand on his heart and the fear was none,

 his eyes were angelic that spoke to me and

 as I gazed into them,” IT” happened;

 

 My world was gone, my paradise shaken,

 and I was in rues lasting alone

 my dream was shattered, my love gone

 drenched in the rain I felt parched

 first time I was in love and the heavens cried,

 tears of poignancy that lay before me

 the wind took away the immortalized dream

 but the emotions that remain were whole,

 my love was mine but my lover nowhere in sight

 He was not impugn because he never knew,

 that he was the moment I lived for,

 that he was the breath I died for,

 that he was the time I will always wait for,

 that he is the one to whom, I wish till eternity, could say I Love U…

 

 

P.S. This one's quite old, though posting it now :)