A Contemporary Issue of Great Importance.

Written for the internship application of The Viewspaper.

On being asked to discuss a contemporary issue that had a great impact on me.

Two issues, somewhat correlated yet unique in their own right have been of great impact on me, as an individual, in the recent past. The two issues concerned, are one, the growth of the nuclear family system in India and two, the widespread impact of Internet usage in the country, enabling a world of possibilities at the tip of one’s finger.

On a completely personal note, Internet crept into my life at a fairly tender age, being made possible from the weekend visits to my father’s office, which had access to the once considered luxury. Despite the ‘luxury’ being available at home, which was then a joint family, always had its restrictions and of course, the prying eyes of relatives – and of course, the myth that a child could not operate a computer well. However, another luxury made available to our generation was the inclusion of basic computer education in schools, at primary levels. On one hand, the Internet offered a world of opportunities in terms of communication, learning and entertainment; while on the other hand, the joint family system restricted growth in terms of individual thinking and expected the child to grow up on the terms and conditions laid out.

Now, I’m not saying that the joint family system is/was a social evil or anything of the kind; instead it has been beneficial to a lot of individuals in terms of value imbibing and cultural prosperity and also, as a preserver of Indian traditions. The Internet, in all its glory has also been actively influencing the minds of teenagers, giving them an endless resource option, which can be a bane to large extents. Children who have grown up in joint families, have always preserved within themselves the essence of living cordially with one and all, along with respecting elders in the household. Internet, for them has been a medium of escape, in to the world beyond home, which has often gone wrong, and misleading.

On a closing note, to balance and equate the impact of the above mentioned issues on my life, it’s been quite simple – contrary to what the introductions sound like. Living in a joint family and not having access to the Internet had my thinking and access to knowledge and other resources limited, due to some of the reasons mentioned before. The wave that took India by storm, close to the millennium, i.e., the growth of Internet and creation of nuclear families - hand in hand - expanded my thinking in terms of open mindedness and moralistic thinking, with the closeness to parents, in the nuclear family that I began living in. The access to Internet also opened up various avenues and platforms, which began to be helpful. It was as simple as this – the power and knowledge, communication and learning at my fingertips. And, with parents ready to encourage the growth of the child, an impact of the above mentioned phenomenon, rather than issues, is but obvious and unavoidable. And, I’m glad it happened.

Fancy Being Cyrus?

An assignment for my internship with The Viewspaper.

On cinema.

With a growth in independent cinema, or ‘indie’ cinema as it came to be known in India, in recent times, there was a parallel growth in the number of directors and producers, venturing into this unknown territory. Producers were required to fund on a smaller scale and sit back, keeping their fingers crossed alongside keeping faith in the directors who were visualizing meaningful cinema. Of course, the growth was minimal and slow paced, but was having an impact on the minds of the multiplex audiences, if not others. And, of course, the birth of multiplexes in the country is what facilitated the sprouting support for such films, in the first place.

You can find the entire piece here.

Nainital: A Magical Town.

An assignment for my internship with The Viewspaper.

On travel.

More than one man has attempted to slide down from the uppermost point of the ropeway down to the Mall Road, wearing a yellow shirt and red pants – hoping to relive the magic of ‘Jo Jeeta Woh Sikander.’ More than one couple on their honeymoon has stood on Dorothy’s seat, the highest point in the town, and looked down at the magnificent quadrangle of Sherwood College and dreamt of sending their son to the historically glorious school. More than one lover has taken their partner on a boat ride and said the three words bang in the middle of the Naini Lake, having the seven surrounding mountains for witnesses. Every single person, who has visited the beautiful town of Nainital, has a memory attached with the magic that encapsulates them with every step taken in and around the town.

You can find the entire piece here.

Mould Some Love, That Is Slipping Away.

She held his being in the cup of her arms,
Like a potter holding his share of clay.
But he turned his eyes away from the sight,
Because memories were the only thing that remained.
Courage, he gathered, to look back with a belief,
Of the potter moulding them back into what had been imagined.
Mistakes had occured, but could not be undone.
Forgiveness was a big word, that held great importance.
Acceptance was the other way out, and the only it seemed.
Patience however, was left to complete its only task.
The potter was thinking. The clay was melting and slipping away.
But was suddenly gathered and mould back - into the earlier self.
The potter had saved the day, but the clay was to blame.
For the loss and pain. But was mould back to shape.

The Sense(s) of Love and More.

His body had begun walking far away,

But the soul was keen to be within hers.

The eyes soared beyond what came across,

His sight however, was fixated over hers.

Ears grasped anything that could be heard,

Even her written word now, sang him a tune.

The skin covering him felt nothing but numbness,

The touch of her presence, now rattled him over.

A sour taste had flooded his mouth, out and out,

It was bittersweet but, that she was offering.

The nosy path, she had warned him, to avoid,

But smelling her hair's what took himback home.

Half belief and not, was a part of her bigger plan,

The bond within, was far from broken though.

Flickering Screens and Sorrow.

The television screen had begun flickering,

But the noise just kept going with the floating.

Academia was last, on the longest list,

There ain't a teacher but, to make a hit.

Blood from below, was flowing to the head,

Shit and all, was all that lay on the bed.

Having a smoke, was misunderstanding,

Between the logic and the reasoning.

Look to the beat, for the concentration,

Becasue courage didn't lie, in whispering.

Apology was what the heart seeked,

Since music had then equalled to weed.

On recalling a memory of the night before,

He knew of nothing - but immense sorrow.

The Convenient Path of Truth

He had an uncanny eye, for fortunate trouble,

Flowing alongside, devoid of the consequences.

A boy of his kind, saw no rationality,

In either situations, that he faced alone.

But, there was some issue, over his mind,

About the other girl, who walked across.

The intensity of the sin was known to him,

But the belief of repair was hovering above.

The act had not come through, but proposed,

The conscience within, was clear as crystal.

Truth he believed, had its convenient path,

Of playing funny games with the mind and heart.

The end, as it seemed, was far from sight.

Only because he knew, the show had just begun.

Something Is Rotten.

An article I wrote for the group newsletter.

Fine mornings somehow seemed very rushed and hushed up since a while. Deal is simple. Something has changed within everyone, ranging from the lowest rung to the upper most rung of the vicious food chain. Maybe it’s just the uppermost bit that seems to have altered the movements of the others, for the better yet displeasure it seems. It’s just a matter of time however, till normalcy will strive. And be a norm, at a time when there is vengeance in the air and blood on the floor.

When the UPA Government almost lost the vote of confidence two years ago, someone stepped in to save them. Similarly, when the master was losing control over the senior members, the Cabinet was formed and very democratically placed itself as a wall – only to make the approach difficult and impossible. Egos flared, hearts broke and beards were shaved – but the master regained control. The displeased just got miserable by the minute and those who were happy, only kept getting happier. Some considered the master the centre of the smaller Universe – a semi-God. Some considered him a reincarnation of the Devil himself. The ministers of this God-like creature supported and hid behind the immense shadow and the rest just scampered. Senior members did not cooperate, but only cribbed. The Master thought over it – this had not been part of the plan.

The plan altered. Moods changed. Happiness was a commoner sight. Something was wrong, it seemed. The state of affairs was more politicized than ever before, to an extent unimaginable. Rotten tomatoes began to smell fresher and thoughts spoke louder than microphones. Expressions and reactions were brighter and filled with remorse. Equivocation was a way of survival. The motion behind closed doors seemed to be doing nothing but handle situations. Just to reconfirm one fact – this decision was right and nothing more.

Something is rotten. Let not more be said or heard.

Amen.

Ok.

The return.

Of some random.

Posts. And, more etc.

It's OK baby.

Trust me it is. Yes.

It's only how you see it.

But, my vision is so twisted.

We'll find a way out, from here.

The Mess called Bharatiya Janta Party

An assignment for my internship with The Viewspaper.

On Politics.

At a point, when the entire party, its structure, ideology and members seem to be falling apart bit by bit and sometimes in chunks, one man – who so tirelessly built the party with immense care post the Vajpayee era, now seems to be standing alone in the middle of it all, still holding on to his ‘mettle,’ refusing to budge against everyone, including the RSS’s wishes – Lal Krishna Advani.

You can find the entire piece here.

Another Epidemic, Virtually (Im)possible.

Wrote this for a 350-word feature writing assignment.

Cooked up a fictional influenza.

Ha!

It was another day, complete with research and theories, when the Health Ministry announced the outbreak of yet another pandemic, following a string of influenzas such as the bird flu, stomach flu, and swine flu etc – the porn flu. Also, the Ministry announced the pandemic having chances of breaking out big time, especially at night time and gaining the title of an epidemic. One of the very few ways of stopping this influenza is banning internet connections, across the nation.

“Internet porn has been catching up ever since its advent and of course, since the internet has become a part of everyday life. However, this time around a lot of eyebrows were raised. The main source seems to be the growth of porn watchers amongst the youth, who have caught the influenza,” explains a worried Dr. Mathew, from the Delhi Medical Survey. Parents of the younger generation have been rather cautious and most households have been wary of internet usage.

“I don’t know what exactly it is, but a friend of mine has been infected. I think he was on some adult site, and something got over him, that’s all he remembers,” said Vipul Prakash, a 12th grade student of Frank Anthony School, Kolkata, whose friend has been infected with the influenza since a week. Most schools have been wary of the particular flu spreading faster than any of the previous known flu’s. And, the government is yet to take a call on the proposed national ban and discuss the issue with most other internet service providers.

Most immediate effects seem to be the inability of putting ones’ hands inside the pockets for longer than ten seconds in front of computer screens, semi blindness to the colour pink and lack of confidence towards the opposite sex for a week. Dhritiman Wangdu, a self admitted porn addict has been honest at saying, “It had been a difficult time, but porn addiction is bad. I’ve learnt my lesson over this recovery period. Earlier, it was difficult to stay away from, but now I’m free of it. So, I hope others learn, without having to fall prey to it.”

While the Ministry is still researching on it, doctors and the society in general are skeptical of the pandemic spreading further. Here’s hoping the usage of internet, for porn, goes downhill.

The Beginning of an End.

As he stood by the bare hilltop,

Eclipsing the glaring sunset,

Meandering thoughts of the girl,

Flashed before his teary eyes.

There was the distinct memory,

That called out to his mind,

He knew this was a clear signal,

Of a beginning, to their prolonged end.

His cheek was rough with a beard,

A kind that symbolised his grief,

The skin soaked in the salty water,

Dripping from his otherwise shining eyes.

He saw those two - jumping and laughing,

More to his dismay, than joyous relief,

She cuddled his being, in her arms,

Like a potter moulding his clay.

He tried to look away - in ignorance,

But, it was seemingly anything but bliss,

Fate, he thought, had played its game,

Nothing however, seemed to be of help.

He looked ahead, to leave the past behind,

But a stronger force, kept holding him back,

The end, he thought, was closer than it looked,

But the memories were just about to begin.

Dispose Mind Waste, Not Food

An assignment for my internship with The Viewspaper.

On environment.

If you remember your last restaurant visit and compare that with overall statistics of food wastage in India alone, you would want to go back and lick your plate clean – and maybe even the utensils, the food was served in. But, the lack of awareness around the issue and interrelated issues, such as malnutrition, poverty and food shortage, is minimal and hence a small contributor to the larger picture of food waste and the aforesaid issues. But, food waste alone incurs huge monetary losses to industries and mankind, in general.

You can find the entire piece here.

Not Only Sachin Hits Centuries.

The misleading advertising award, if there is any, should go to me.

But, one thing I've learnt is, headlines must get you to read further.
Mission accomplished, right?

Simple deal is, this is my 100th post.
I'm not going to say much about this post or blog etc.
I feel old. But, the blog actually is getting old. And, I'm not.
And no, I'm not making resolutions of starting another blog/blogs.
Neither am I taking a break from this one. I can see your grins and frowns.

Keeping it simple, and following resolutions made.
I'd like to thank all my followers and readers for making it possible.
And, Mom - though she never reads most of this, for encouraging my writing.

Looking forward to a lot more bloggable topics.
A lot more commentaries and short stories - and maybe rants.
More exciting things and discoveries, to encourage confusion. Abstractly.

Thank you. A heart felt, honest one. Really.

P.S - I'm feeling weirdly sentimental. WHAT?

The Year, In Adjectives.

The year gone by, has been...

Bad.
Ugly.
Good.
Learning.
Educative.
Speculative.

Overall, it's been decent and not so much too.

But, at the end of it, I've been happy and a better person to round it off. So, I've learnt how to be more tolerant and accepting. And, simple as it may sound, happy within, unlike before.

New Year Resolution - Be simpler. And, better.

That Tea and Bun Makhan.

There are times, when just some ordinary tea and bun makhan tastes like the best thing in the world, only because it has been eaten with some of the best people in the world.

Friends, we all may have too many, but true ones, we all may not have too many. Or maybe none. But, thankfully, despite having too many fake ones, if I may have the liberty to express them as that, I have my handful of the good, true, worthy ones. And, I'm proud of them and love them as much. Life is a little blank without these retards.

Just to let them know, even though I don't need to.

For Krish and Smit.

P.S - Missed you idiots - Dhiman and Akshay.

Child Labour. Eradication.

It was a rare sunny afternoon in the Delhi winter and he seemed to be desperate for sleep after all the hard work and running around, from the morning chores. The night's sleep had been enough, but his shoulders ached and his limbs were prey to the strenuous morning work. After all, he was all of twelve only. And, this meant there was more to his life than cooking and cleaning the house, apart from other things. Things like education, school, friends, playing in the park and a million shades of innocence, lost in transition - the transition that had evolved him into an adult.

However, the child within him, was always jumping.

Seeking faith and waiting for that one ray of hope.

If child labour can do all of this, single handedly.

Imagine what you could do, by educating one child.

And, help eradicate this terrible social evil we're facing.

Only to help a child - who has lost his childhood - smile again.

That Uncontrollable Feeling.

A feeling that cannot be controlled, generally is the one you shouldn't follow, in the rational man's guide. But, for the others, it is different.

For the writer, that is the inspiration.

For the photographer, that is the frame.

For the thinker, that is the thought maker.

For the critic, that is the uncontrollable itch.

For the loser, that is the ultimate key to failure.

But, how rational is OK?

And, how uncontrollable is that feeling?

Of success, love, failue, envy, joy, pleasure, hate?

Yes. No. Maybe.

At times, it seemed like a mistake.

While retrospect made it appear like a misunderstanding.

Contradictions appeared on every stride.

But, life was beginning to play the little game of trust and lust.

In the end, it's over and for the better.

At dawn, the king and pawn - both go back into the same box.

An Ode to Smoke/Stone(d) Imagery

I heard Osama was in school today,

Trying to bomb some of the tiffins.

He said to the little children,

You're to ugly to even be here.

And, then he began to remove the plates,

So, I can sit down over there.

He said, you're a damn junkie.

But, then hit the dustbin's head.

Cover me with some blankets,

Or hide me up with some travel.

And, he asked me if I was rolling,

But, said the thoughts had been floating.

You know what I'm saying boy,

My visiting card was digging a toy.

I'm doing this for another reason,

And, there was firing from his head.

You've got to learn to make it,

To see if his eyes were so red.

Or if the tomato was so bloody,

With some shock and some insanity.

You stick to the smoke process,

But don't interfere with my right.

Since time has come, to blow,

He said, look at the damn blazer.

The writing had to be stopped,

But he refused because he was stoned.

Weirding Out: Part IX

I was filling up an internship form this evening, when there were a lot of strange questions being shot at me - from the computer screen. However, if you've been following my previous posts, you would know - know of a shift in thought process and other similar things. So, there was this question that asked me to summarise my motto in life, in sentence or two.

So, on 18th December, 12.32 AM IST, I said...

"In the dog-eat-dog world of today, if one dog decided to not eat the other one, there’d at least be some peace and someone to take notice. If that is not change, what is?"

P.S -

Don't mind the picture.

Makes me look pensive enough, to have said that.

Ha!

I've Been Thinking.

I've been thinking.
And, been feeling bad. At having letdown.
Or maybe under performing. Or over expecting.
But, this could've been better. It surely could have. Yes.
And, that means, a change of mind. Heart. And, thoughts astray.

Birthday Cricket Dreams

Wrote this story for the Katha Chitrakala Competition, 2009.
But, never managed to send it in to them with the illustrations due to -
1. Lack of time.
2. And, loads of laziness.

The story is about a boy, Akash and his obsession with cricket.
And, is meant for 6-12 year olds.

The sun was shining down with all its might and the crowd was shouting his name, as loudly as they could. He knew this was his chance to be a hero - a national hero. It was the final match of the World Cup in England. India needed six runs off the last two balls to defeat Pakistan and win the World Cup. Akash looked around the stadium and decided he would hit the ball on the leg side, for a six. He wiped the sweat of his forehead and was ready to face one of the fastest bowlers in the world.

Akash closed his eyes for a second and thought of his mother. The bowler was now running in, and in came a bouncer. Before he knew it, the ball struck Akash on his arm and he knew he had wasted one ball. He was now boiling with anger and he knew he had to take revenge. This time, Akash banged the bat down hard and was very, very determined. The bowler was running in again and this time, the ball was easier and over pitched. Akash connected the bat to ball and looked away. The noise that it made, echoed in the stadium that had fallen silent.

Then, suddenly there was a loud cheer. The ball flew over the leg side boundary for a six and India had won. For some time Akash could not feel anything around him - he was numb. Then, he thought of people, his family, friends and his hero - Sachin Tendulkar. He knew, now he was a hero, just like Sachin Tendulkar had always been. Akash could not believe how fast it was all happening, and then he pinched his arm.

"Happy Birthday Akash beta!"

He saw his mother standing in front of him, to his surprise.

"Thank you Ma! Good morning. I'm seven years old today!"

Akash said, still rubbing his eyes and thinking of how beautiful his dream had been...

Once More.

So, there we go. Again.
Conversations with a certain creature called Jolene, spark ideas.

It's too much of a detailed thought to actually pen down.

Strangely, this thought occurred to me just as I go on typing this.

If a 30 or 40 year old person were to read all of this, or blogs that I read - he or she would probably be wondering what is wrong with me. Or maybe the youth in general. About why they're so 'depressed' and bobbed down. But, maybe another one would say, they are mature and insightful. And, at the end of the day, perceptions are millions. But, we as the youth are considered as one. Is that not wrong?

Why are our perceptions so driven by others?

Or maybe our own stuck up mindset?

Why?

Why is a particular generation considered irresponsible and yet talented?

Why is our generation considered to be stupid yet the hope of the country?

Why are we written off by everyone yet be able to handle situations alone?

Why?

Take a moment to think about it.

And, think hard.

I thought about it.

Life has not even begun and I've already chalked out a plan. A master plan which, I think, like every other plan will change the world. And, change my world too. The plan devised, is an indication of inspirations and hopes waiting to be fulfilled, not my own, but others.

The conclusion, as confusing as this post may have gotten, is one.

I want to help people, who need it.

Look Inside.

I think it's been a little long-ish since I wrote about myself.

I think, the over obsessive being within me, somewhat, died.

I think, no. I know, that's what the case was. In fact, is.

Nowadays, I seem to be getting familiar with a being, who I knew faintly. Someone who lived (lives?) within me. Someone who doesn't like the outer self of me as much as the other guy did. Someone who is more receptive, accepting and not so self important. And, then the other guy looks to me and questions, why? And then, I say, relax. It's time to be more open. From the mind and the soul. And then, he questions if I'd lost it. Crazy fucker.

But, honestly, and on a more serious note.

Tolerance is something I've been associating myself a lot with in recent times. And, it helps. To cut a long story, somewhat short, I tell you where it helps the most - anger. Another familiarity I've been getting to know better is the assertiveness and its vocal acceptance and importance. I've realized, it is very necessary for one to be assertive, as and when required and at the same time, not sound selfish, or even be that way. Now, I've been subjected to finger raising and held at gun point saying, I'm quite the selfish prick, and I've more often than not passed it off as self importance. Honestly, that was always not the case. Yes, hands up! But then, who isn't? Mahatma Gandhi?

There's more to it, but I don't feel like writing more.

Oh, and also. A few more years and I could lead a peace revolution.

Honestly. I'm leaning towards complete peace. Of world, and mind.

P.S - It's cold in Delhi. Thhand lag rahi hai.
:)