Letter to God - Draft I

Image from Internet

Hello Kaanha...

The greatest of all great men, ever,

Oh Sorry, I can’t really call you men. That will be derogatory, isn’t it? After all you are the God, and this world is yours.

LOL, and I am here posting this to you over Internet. How silly of me. But it’s ok, considering them who say you do exist in every tiny bits of the universe; I hope you will get this message some way or other.

Hmmm… So coming back let me start with appreciating your work. Trust me, you have done a great job in making this splendid work of art – the world. I feel there has been no word coined yet that can truly describe this, its beauty.

From sunrise to sunset, sea to sun, rain to mountains, flowers to fountains, all the creatures and their each and every feature, and then comes the ultimate one – we human. Thank you God, for this world, so beautiful. The world which is blessed to have you as its maker, director, writer, choreographer, lyricist, lights man, and what not.  And the best part is, from time to time, you have been doing cameo roles yourself, in this.

Well you know what, you no doubt came between us, enjoyed our food, our people, and played your part, but the worst thing was you inflicted in us Hope, and taught us to use it, and you left our world long ago. And people are still hopeful about you. That you still exist, that you are still here.  

Lakhs of people worship you, offer you flowers and food, and burn candles at your so called places, but are you really there? And if you do, then doest that place really needs any illumination, than the homes of poor?

Now don’t you dare give me that very excuse of yours that you haven’t asked us any of that. I am no way going to buy that, as isn’t this world your creation. Isn’t everything happens here as per your choice? If not, then why the hell we pray you and are hopeful. Either stop this, or stop that, God.  

You see, am not a theist. Neither am I an atheist. I guess I do believe in you, and I believe everyone who believes in you, be it whatever they call themselves or whatever name they have given you. But at the same time, I don’t want to leave any chance doubting you as well.

Are you really there? Is this your world? Have you really made it? Or may be its just that your creativity is getting old fashioned now.

I doubt why do people celebrate your birthday? And why not your death day because from my eyes, celebrating your death will be more logical in today’s world with all these corruptions, rapes and ruthless killings happening everywhere, all the time.  

Or is it just that you cannot die? Or is it just all some lie? Because if you are not dead, then show us some signs of yourself, God. It’s high time and we cannot see any more of our sisters being raped, brothers massacred, and children starving, and what not.

The climax is getting too long boss. Your picture is starting to get exaggerated and I am afraid I will sleep. I am dying to sing, dance and whistle, God.

Make your entry, God, make your entry… NOW!!!  

If alone I rise,

do fire my dreams,

do burn my desires..

I'll fight over pains,

let me remain unmourned,

& who cares.??

Nights are worthless,

if dreams

don't meet their fates.

Love becomes endless

when we loose

the fear of checkmates..

Beneath a disgust,

behind a betrayal,

are accumulated bumps

of a malign day..

& what if

hmmmmmmm......

& what if,

my existence gets rejected?

I will tel you,

I'll go d warriors' way.!

With tears to drink,

with wounds

not to portray,

with winds of pains

to breath,

hey..

No matter,

if even my Gods

curse my essence,

& if every time it seems

no reason to exist,

no way to sense,

then

O, surely my world,

I will rise,

I will stand,

& firm my breaths.

& for all those pains

I will pay..

I will go the warriors' way..

I will go the warriors' way.!!

PYRE...

Today something very interesting happened. Well, interestings need not to be always in high spirits, but they lure interests in such a way, that we forget to be sad. And thus it seems to be interestingly interesting. 

Like the incident I witnessed, was interesting. I was laughing at that point, but at this moment while writing this, I am feeling how un-interesting it should have been. Un-interest-thing. Not all the things, but also not not-all-the-things. 

Rohan, one dear friend of mine, post having dinner was craving for cigarette. Those who smoke must know this urge very well. These fags, I must tell you, works like water plus Hajmola, post meals. 

Remember, when you are hungry, the churns you get in your belly? Added to that when you know the food you are going to have, is going to be appetizing. It tows your attention and a part of your brain gets engaged somewhere in the corner fantasizing about it. 

And as soon as we finish the food, think of the longing you have for water? The thirst, the way it makes our throat small’s craving bigger than the body big? Imagine. Just imagine. And post meal when we have water-sipping session, sorry, gulping session, as its more vastly a word when used regarding quenching thirsts.                                                                                                                                                                                                             So, think of when we raise our head, put up with that momentary pain, and the water begins to wet our lips, and skates down our throat, drenching every inch of it, and our heart starts making love to the feeling of quenching one of the neediest desires our throat can make. 

Two of the vital needs get fulfilled here- food and water. But the smokers have one more adding to this- to smoke. 

Sharing this from my personal experiences, I am telling you, as soon as our hunger gets handled, and thirst starts to get thirstier, our food pipe starts developing an another passage for the smokers, to smoke.                                                                                                                                                                                                         But little do we pay attention that these smoke not only stem but steam us, but also bake us, and bake the hell out of our lungs. And sooner than later, these baking start becoming a barrier in our breathing, and behaving. 

And meanwhile in some parallel universe, my friend was still yearning for a cigarette. Calling off a busy day, he was a little more than just tired today, and that’s why couldn’t go out to buy his night’s quotas. But so what, we smokers do have our “sources”. And not necessarily our friends will be our sources. But I have seen many “sources” also slowly but surely becoming friends. Yes, there are even non-smokers friends to smokers. But, call it their “Birds of same feather flock together” mentality or actually matching mentality streaks, I have seen many friendships “igniting” from a fag. 

Meanwhile, in the same parallel universe, my friend has already dialed Rahman’s number. Rahman, my another friend. He also smokes, and yes, I belong to the same friend circle.

Rahman: Say dude…

Rohan: Where the hell are you, man?

Rahman: Why? What’s the matter?

Rohan: Nothing really. Just went to your room, and you weren’t there…

Rahman: Ahaaa... Seems like somebody is missing me, @@#$%&*@ ???

Rohan: LOL. :D Well, I have got the notes of the class you bunked today.

Rahman: Fine dude, bring them to class tomorrow.

Rohan: (Shit…) Okay… But hey… I had brought some barfis for you my friend. Where are you? Let me come to you.

Rahman: Fine. Keep them in my room, or else wait there, I am coming in a while.

Rohan: (%$#@@#$%) Ok bro. But yes one more thing. Remember Alexis Texas? I have got her latest video.

Rahman: Fuck it @#$%%$#@... Tell me what it is, before it gets too late. ;-) And FYI, am very much happy and satisfied with my Sunny Leone. :p

Rohan: Sutta, man…!!!

Rahman: Hahahahahahahaha… :D

Rohan: What? :O

Rahman: Hahahaha… Lol dude, I just dragged the last fag meanwhile you were bullshitting with me. :P

Rohan: Fuck you @#$%%$#@... Keep the phone!!!!

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha

And that was my laughter. I was laughing infused in their conversation. And I was laughing amused by their conversation. 

This was nothing but just a quick look of how casual conversations take place in friends, on such a casual thing like a cigarette. But let’s not take it casually my friend. 

And this is not just about Smoking. We do tend to take a lot of serious stuffs seriously casually like this. 

•   To reach somewhere a little before, we DO break traffic rules, at times.
•  To save a little of our money, we DO travel without tickets in trains, at times.
•  To drive a little more comfortably, we DO not use seat belt, at times.
•   To derive a little more pleasure/relief, we Do tell lies, at times.
•   To gain a little more, we Do cheat, at times.                                                                                

…and what not man… And if we do add all these “a little… at times”, it iterates a lot of these “times” big time, and that compiles our life. 

So what does that mean?

• That means in major portion of our time, we are casual, than serious.
•  That means the serious part of our lives is spent being casual, than serious.
•  That means if we casually start taking our casual life a little less casually, and more seriously; we can seriously start living our lives seriously more seriously, and less casually.  

By the way, did we notice my friends Rohan and Rahman? One is Hindu and the other is Muslim. And the cigarette draws them together. 

Bachchan said, “मंदिर मस्जिद बैर कराती, मेल कराती मधुशाला...”
 

True that, but what is that fire which can if attach together, is no less capable of detaching also that well. And that will do separate us if we glued to it for long. 

Afterall, if an eye for eye can blind, the fire for fire will burn the world.

P.S Its eleven days that I have quit smoking, and this post is written seriously casually to vent out my urge to fire.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

There you go common, man...

Ha ha ha..

Ha ha ha ha ha…

You don’t give me a penny

When I come to you begging…

But you squander away, anyway

And call it from your savings…

Fish, food and forget,

Is all does your clan…

You are not just common,

You are way a little more than that, man.

When your bones churn,

And your forest burns,

Only then you come out crying

In bloody crowds of tonnes…

But where have you been

When we die of hunger,

For a piece of cloth, and bread two

Our children out wander??

Whereas you are in posh cars,

And in theatres and bars,

We eventually breed tears

So as to wash off our scars!

And on the rise of that dark night

When some of you,

Killed some others of you,

it little did bother we few

Because little does we matter to you

We will again be left to tan

Where you will go clicking and sneaking us

And there is where you go common,

You "common" man.???!!

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…….

P.S The cartoon is by the legendary R K Laxman ji.. :-) 

Love that lied, the love that died...

It was one such cold night of January, two years back. Wintry and unfriendly. Still, Abeer was in a vest and a pair of his favorite shorts, sitting out in lawn. Still. And lost. Perhaps in his thoughts, or in the stars’ lots. This was his way of combating. Until sometime in the past he used to disregard the winter talking to his love.  That night, he was doing the same to his love, confronting the winter.

Next to him was kept a packet of cigarettes, and an empty matchbox. And abutting his slippers, were resting many cigarettes’ butts, worn out of resting his spirits. When life mocks, it mocks but marvelously. There was a time when Abeer used to go without smoking, using that money in calling his girlfriend. But that night he was not. There were times when he used to have an urge to smoke, but no cigarettes. But that night he had both an urge and cigarettes as well, but he has been smoking so much lately that he ran out of matchsticks. As I said, when life mocks, it mocks just marvelously.

His body was literally shivering, while sitting there. But he was meandering, somewhere. And all of a sudden his phone beeped. The name flashing on the screen brought him all the way back to the one, he was trying to be oblivious to, Meera.

And as he opened her text, he read it in just one lungful of air.

“How long did it take,

for the world to change?

Once a beloved,

now a nursing maid.

The presence once felt

with fun and frolic,

now a pleasure sardonic.

The pallid sunset 

threatens the memory of day,

my reflections

filthy and sordid today.

The swelling moon now,

invites the swooning fate. 

Should I wake up to lie again?”

His eyes had turned red, and as he read, he was already on his way back to his room. He so desperately wanted to call her and call off the relationship. But in the back of his mind he knew he won’t be doing that. Red does not represent anger just like that. If it does so, it’s because it also indicates you to STOP.     

And that night he didn't call her. Instead he engaged himself putting his feelings into words…

"Dear Meera...

Dearest Meera...

Meera...

Tell me what should I do now. Tell me. What should I say you now, tell me? According to you, you can’t live without me. OK, neither can I. But again, it’s hard for us to live together, and we very well know this. There is a gap, a rift formed between us now. We both don’t want to do anything for that, but still we want to overcome that, may be we want  the other person to make an effort, and we would have to do so, if we tend to live together again. 

Don’t take this as my reluctance; don’t take this in any way, in any sense. It would be better if you don’t read this. Actually the best would be if I am not writing this, hell yeah!

Yeah, yeah, yeah... that's true. I admit, I don't like these phonic conversations anymore. Because I don’t find any sense in it. I want to see you in person, Meera. I want to meet you, I want to see you. And then I guess I can talk for hours, for days.

Yes it’s a good way to stay connected, I agree, but I don’t just want to be stay connected. I want to live "in" you, Meera.

Yes the world has changed, the things have changed. But you see; only the phases have changed. The faces are still the same. And same are their ways.

Oh, I have no idea, what all am I blabbering, and neither I want to go above and read it all now, because I know if I do so, I will be erasing half of what is written. I will be going into hiding my feelings, gagging it.  

Since the beginning, I have been speaking my heart out to you, and then you help me decipher my mind to me. And mind you, it’s one of the most beautiful things I like about us. And I don’t want that to change now.

Meera, neither do I want to lose you...

Come back again Meera, come back to me. And don’t you dare say this now that you are still here and were never gone.

You know the best thing about us, first we cook a gap, and then we try overlooking the gap, to be together. Ha ha ha ha… I like this so much. :)

I don’t know... Well I seriously don’t know what is all this. Bloody true, so truly true. You have really shown me what not days, and in what not ways Meera.

Look, we know what we want, but still if we are confused, then we are not. I can’t see you like this, neither can you see me in pain. Can you? Or do you?

Bloody you. I regret coming close to you. 

Fuck you, Meera.

Yours for(n)ever

Abeer."

  

The metro glass door..

My love,

O my beloved,

Your beauty has struck me

with its fourfold kiss,

& a bolt has driven into

this darkness of ours,

& while the night has expanded

its circumference cold,

there is only your face,

your eyes,

your gaze,

that pain

seen last across

the metro glass door,

in my veins

to fill up the vacancy within..

And only your clarity of essence,

pressing back on my whole non-being,

only your love,

here my love,

where the darkness of my world,

closes in..!!

# From my diary, dated Feb 04, 2011...

And, if this goes on like this...

Before you go down, let me start up with a very simple question, ‘How many National Holidays are there in India?’ Don’t worry; you don’t have to put them into writing anywhere. Just think of them, in your thought processing brain, and move on. And only if, you could name them correctly, you qualify to proceed further. Or else, Good luck for the next season of Kya Aap Paanchvi Paas Se Tej Hain? India needs to spot you.

*****

                                                                 

Date: 1st October, 2012                                                                                                                

Time: Around 9 pm 

Place: My Hostel Mess

Flabbergasted I was, when one of my friend, while having dinner said in a very casual tone, “Bloody hell… What’s wrong with our country, every now and then, they call for a Bandh these days. Now, what’s their new reason for the Bandh tomorrow? Tell me Pritesh, you are from Media, right?”

I was still staring his face, with an awe. All I could manage to say, was “This is it friend, this is our new India,” but before that I had to clear my throat, twice. Man, I was still not able to put myself to believe him.

He shrugged himself, and disgusted he sound, “You know what, if this goes on like this, I can very well see our tomorrow.”

And I agreed with a nod, ‘If this goes on like this, I can also very well see our tomorrow.’

Date: 2nd October, 2012                                                                                                                     

Time: Around 4 pm

Place: Outside my University campus

So proud I was, when one of my students, while passing, stopped, and stopped me, with “Good Evening Sir, Happy Gandhi Jayanti!”   

I turned around to see, and replied with the same glee, “Hey… hero! Good Evening... And Happy Gandhi Jayanti to you too!”

He smiled, and asked me, “Sir, where are you going?”

“Oh, I am going to the city buddy. As you know today is Gandhi ji’s birthday, so we have planned to pay him a tribute,” I replied.

“How?”

“By lighting candles.”

“Hmmmmmm…”

I could read the curiosity on his face. I interrupted, “So tell me, this year, we will be celebrating his…….”

“143rd birthday anniversary, Sir.” I was surprised because he had actually read my mind, before I could read his, and answered my question before I could even complete it.

“Shabash!” I appreciated. “Hey, why don’t you come along with me? Come on.”

I was really impressed with this guy by then, and really wanted him to accompany me. But his face condensed, and the shine of his eyes suddenly declined.

“No sir. I can’t. My mother is ill, I have to take care of her, and also to cook something before my father returns from field,” he replied.   

“Oh! Is there anything I can do?” I empathized.

“Ummmm… Yes sir… Can you please light two candles on my behalf also?”

“Yeah, sure buddy… But, why two?” I inquired.

“Sir, because today is also Shashtri ji’s birthday.”

“Which Shashtri?”

“Shri Lal Bahadur Shashtri ji, Sir. Our second Prime Minister.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, yes, sure, sure… Sure buddy, sure!”  I pretended, as if I knew this, but actually I didn’t. This guy once again impressed me, and this time also enhanced my awareness. I wanted to ask myself, ‘Am I his teacher, or is he mine?’

“Thank you, Sir,” but he interrupted me again.

“Hey, anytime buddy. And if you wish, I could also bring two candles for you. You can light them at your home.” I smiled, trying to infuse some humor. But this turned out to be exactly the contrary of what I had sought.  

He whispered, “Candles, are what we still light at home, Sir. And, are still waiting for the light to come, Sir.”

I stood there speechless. This was not something I did not know, I had very well known the fact that there still exists some places, where the electricity haven’t reached yet, on Our planet; whereas we have successfully, and repeatedly, reached places, even Outside our planet. But the way this guy notified me of this fact at that moment, I wished he himself should not be acquainted with the manifold verities of the assertion he just asserted.

It was my fault, though it wasn’t my fault actually. How am I to be blamed if our country is behind? But yes, if we remain to be behind, we, we all are to be blamed.

I was feeling guilty. Therefore, I tried to change the topic. I asked him, “Anyway, so? What will you be doing now?”

My intention, I swear, was not at all directed to the way, his answer came from. And once again, I was embarrassed. I was literally mortified, realizing how easy it has become for us to move on, and to move away.  Something happens with others, and we move away. Something happens to us, and we move on. And gradually, while we kept on moving on, this moving on has now become an impeccable trait of our kind, our mankind.

For an instance, wasn’t I choked with guilt, a while ago? But what did I do, I did move on.

I said to Myself, ‘Moving on isn’t wrong. Everybody does so. I can’t cling on something for long. We need to let it go.’ And then Myself replied to me, ‘Exactly, we need to let it go. LET IT GO. Moving on might not be wrong, but doing so, because everybody does so, may be wrong. Are you an ape?’

“Ape, Sir! Remember our Gandhi ji had three monkeys, and the three of them exhibited three different messages.” And he counted on his fingers, “One – See no evil. Two – Speak no evil. Three - Heed no evil.” And his lips continued to stretch and his eyes continued to spark, “I will ape them, Sir.”

I could say nothing, but stood still, till, he vanished from my vision. I don’t remember when did he leave, because he did not leave. And this time I was neither able to move, nor move on. I still stood there still.

This little guy, though my student, but my teacher, bared me. And bared to me the gist of life. If moving on is something very handy to us, we should use it to handle our evils. Let it go, the evils, and move on. If aping is something we are master at, though involuntarily, then let’s voluntarily ape no evil, and simply move ahead.

I tried to stretch, my lips, and I tried to stretch my legs, and I did move ahead. A twist of my fate, and a twist on my face, I moved ahead, with a thought, ‘this is it friend, this is our new India. And you know what, if this goes on like this, I can very well see our tomorrow!!!”