search for self, british were better

Who’s me?



In hours of solitude

I fell like searching my soul

For something

Which till now

Has not any clear figure

Any clear meaning

I fell as though left alone

Blindfolded and helpless

To find out a light in

The pitch of darkness

I feel I am near it

But I realize after that

I was there

From where I started

It is an unknown feeling

Unclear message

That haunts me day in and out

I fell I could leave it

All that as my brothers do

And enjoy my position in the darkness

Alas! I could do none of these

Because I possessed a haunted soul

An unsatiated being

Which wants to know itself

Which wants to know

Its origin and

Destination

That’s why unlike my brethren

I constantly try my errands

In the darkness

In the hope of finding

What is near to me

What is dear to me

What is infact my whole being

The urge to know what for

I am here

What’s expected of my being?

What’s the reason?

After all for all this show

That blinds people

Even towards the fact that

They are the creation of someone

Who only knows

The aim

The goal

The meaning

Of the existence of a being called Man

That’s why I pray

That I have the determination

The inner strength

That could sustain me

In this unending

Unclear

And still unproductive

SEARCH!

*******








MY FRIEND

Hello! Said one

I took him my friend

How are you? Said one

I took him my friend

I am your friend, said one

I took him my friend



Surrounded by them and

Playing with them

I thought they feel me

They like me

I found my abode amidst them

I found my peace in their words



I got solace in their company

I thought I was reigning

With them to back me

Time turned away the light

Each one quit me



One said, I would meet you

One said, I have work to do

One said, you are my foe

One said, you are a fool

Each one quit to unknown places

Each one in search of unknown wealth and glory



I was there where I was

The only change was that

I was one and they many

I thought I would fight them

I thought I would start again



But dispirited and disinterested

I walked down the way

Away from them

Away from glory

Away from wealth

To places unknown

Towards people unknown





In search of one, who would stand by me

And say I am your friend

In day or night

In fame or might

In hell or heaven

I am your friend!

*********

THE EXAMS



Lazy after day

We went to our homes

To fill with garbage, all we can

Jolted by the nightmare of exam fun fare



We planned our attack

With pens and books at front

Backed by the might of the mind



Running hither for notes

And thither for books

Thus spent the half of our chance

Bringing them together

Was a task indeed!

With a caution and eye

So rare to need.



Sitting at a place

To review the pace

We found a gloomy pic

With not a single flick

Calling back the good old days

And the sagas that they told

We the heavy heart consoled



We started with one chant

Do it, and God will slant

Just a few trickles of days

Were to be seen before the Day



One after the other the topics rolled by

One after the other the subjects rolled by

Dumping in head all they had

With the only speed they knew they had



At last the day that lured

Was there at the door front

Beckoning on us for action

We jumped out with a mind filled and tired

With heart full of gloom and mirth

Gloomy that the end will be bad

Mirth that we are ready ; at least.



Plunging into the paper

We found many an answer

One after the other, the pages rolled by



We heaved a sigh

Aha! We are free



The end of the ordeal so old

Sitting in a seat beside a friend

We mused on how different is the end

When we complete the onslaught and rest

With a winning grin



That’s how we feel about the whole thing

A feigned terrorist at its worst

When we are low

And a noble beast at its best

When we stand upright

That’s it

That’s it

The exams we get!

**********

Values of the living value of the dead



It all happened in a moment

The hand lost the grip of the bar

The body touched the ground after

The moving train pulled it in

And cut it to pieces under its wheels

Life ran off to whence it came



The lovely face

The heavenly body

Were left as if wood were there



She might have been a sister to one

A mother may be of one or two

A wife who loved and who was loved

An official who carried out without fuss



But now you see

You can’t make out any

None knows what she is now

What my come off of her being

For we are human and fallible



The sight was ghastly

So all took note

The train was stopped

People gathered

Strings were pulled

And action started



Stretcher came in

Body was loaded

And taken over to

Make way for living



Each one was delighted to have something to say

The dull routine was broken now

The latecomers were seen everywhere

With the looks that smack of concern

With the same question



What happened, tell me in detail!



It was a scene worth watching for all

We had dozens of commentators around

One you could find in your own midst

The story was repeated

Related in detail

Eye witnesses they were

All of them were there

When it all happened to liven up the life of the crowd



One was with us

The eyewitness he claimed

The woman came running from the wrong side

The women try to copy the men

How frail they are

Why should they do so?

Putting a question and answering himself

He went on with his tale of authority



The train had started filling in all she could

He too was there but on the platform only



She tried to be smart

Ah! I knew it at once

She wanted to beat all

To show off to others



Women now a days don’t bother at all

Carrying something in each of their arms

They run and catch or

Catch a running train



We men help each other by pulling him in

But women they were

Wouldn’t care for latecomers

They forget of others once they manage to be in



Thus she tried to catch the running train

Coming back to the tale he would relate

Caught hold of the bar and tried to hold on

As it was the case ,

The hand slipped

A man was there to hold the hand

But he let it go

For you cannot die with the dead



Yes they nod their heads in unison

And give out a sigh

That sounds python



Then they turn back

Go to their groups

And are rewarded by a request to reveal

With a frown and a heavy look

That makes your bowels turn inside

They repeat the performance to a new audience



That’s how it is

The values of the living

The value of the dead

Or the value of life and…….death!

********************





Home coming

Ones twos and threes

And in the formations of twenties

From rocks, plains and drains

Fluttering slowly towards one place

Converging on it in herds

Came the birds

From east and west

White and black

Small and big



Grouping with kith and kin

Grouping their kind akin

Roamed around the big palace

So green and with so many abodes

Flying high keeping pace

Dowm came the birds to stage

The feigned landing

On leaves and branches

Sweeping over the leaves

Flew off to dot the sky

One and all

Forming a blanket

Making it all a bird’s thicket

Touching with care their forlorn abodes



Standing alone like the big ben

Quiet and solemn

Was it inviting them back home

With a pledge to house them tonight

Clothe them with greens and fleshy leaves

Breath in the warmth of its heart

And cover itself with love and gratitude



Each one sighed

Each one prayed

Calmly seated on the top of the host

Remembering with audible relish

The places they visited

The people they saw

The water they drank

And the food they ate

And thanking Him for their safe return



Planned some new plains

They wanted to visit

New places they wanted to see

For morn would mean

An unending search for them.
********************


CITY AT NIGHT



Wide and deserted roads lined the city

Running like veins at night

Lighting them stand the lonely apostles

Here and there

Bright and dull

Some throwing hope

Others playing hide and seek



Late home comers in ones and twos

Merchants, petty dealers in groups and groups

Beggars___ children with sticks to guide

Pass on

One behind the other

Catering to these still hoping to serve

Open shops buddies and petty shops

Punctuate the sleepy market streets

Hid behind the closed doors

And drawn curtains

Some of them squatting at centers

Out bidding each other

To woo the late customer

Some shops of flowers

Of pan and sweets

Still fare lively with business and gossip



Here a group of young workers

There a group of old dealers

Laugh their hearts away

Over a private joke

Each one holding the other

Standing around the unseen mike

Talk loudly and laugh so too

Competitors of the day

The pals of the night



True to traditions of poverty and greed

The bigger lanes and roads

Are bordered by sleeping odds

Half naked and half clothed

Responding to the cold by changing poses

The hungry brethren of the greedy rich



Tick, tick, tick

Tapping with a stick

Surveying the protectorate

With an invisible relish

Patrol the police

The heart of the culture

Money and goods stocked in shelves



Exceptions few

Rest of them lay half dead in their beds

Darkness rules and hope prevails

Bringing to life the riddle of life.! *
********************




Milk set

We have a colleague by name Jagan

Nath [an]of course was added to it,

True to his name, he acted though late

Went into the market valued one

And brought home a wife

- The one solution to all his woes



We all celebrated and sent him home

Though she could exercise well

She turned out a novice in cooking



One problem was to set curds

Experimenting with all bhaiyas

The govt included

He could not find a good combination

They all spoiled and they threw the milk away

Frustrated and worried he approached us



We were two an engineer and myself

Compete we did to gain the franchise

To teach her

Failing it

We turned to teaching him



All other officers got into the fray

One warned of steel vessels

The other of govt milk

Yet another listed

Twenty conditions and warranties



They confused him

Made him go awry

Caught in an awkward position

He turned back to us





Assuring him to bring back confidence

We set out to show him how to set curds

I won the contract as my room was next door

And I had mastered the art

Engineer was handicapped by his gay life



Down to earth I was

I told him to boil the milk

Put it down to cool

Add some curd later

Warning that

When it must be lukewarm



He nodded in acquiescence

Doubt showing in his eyes

I gave him permission to use any vessel

This made my method unbelievable

How can he go against the preaching of others

I had to prove a point

As competitor was watching



I decided to plunge in full blast

I invited jagan home for practical

I took him home and showed him the curds

In a steel vessel

He was happy

And went back to his wife

To teach her this



Engineer doubted my title to the curds

So, I showed him the dairy next door

He smiled understandingly

Cannot help it , you know—I said.
********************



The British were better



The British were better

Fifty years after independence

I fell that the British were better



They came from afar

They stayed afar though amidst

With different tastes and different styles

They used divide and rule

With a clear idea of whom to divide



They were white, so

We could know and guard us by throwing them out



Now the system… a left over

With divisions galore



The managers, the workers

The press, the public

The powerful, the politician

The cunning and the corrupt



Colours are the same

Though the blacker we are



We will not sit with some

For they sit one rung below

We will not befriend them

For they do the menial

We will not think of them

For the top one too will not



Let the people die

Let their hearts be pierced

We look up to power

We bow down to lick

To please and to lie

To be the servant, the pet or the carpet

For we need to grow

To more power and money



We, the indistinguishable

We, the unsurpassable

We, the unfathomable



Break the ranks of our brethren

Refuse their rights

And curb their growth

Kill their initiative

And the heart that feels

Make it a must to kill the lower

To grow up and

To be helped again





The British, therefore, I say were better

If they wanted they could throw you out

But they were bold enough to do it on their own



We host parties to opponents

Only to kick them out in the name of the higher up

We abuse the weak

By quoting the higher up

We misuse our power, by invoking the higher up

We give speeches and sugar

Only to those who toe the line

The rest of course, await their fate



The British were better

For they said what they would do

They improved forgetting the person benefiting

They educated,

Not thinking to whom they did so



We fare better

Far, far better



All our power, only to those who say yes

All our heart, only to those who are high

All our alms, only to those who stoop to lick

All that we do

Kills the basic God in all

All that we say

Hides the face of a mother in shame

All that we plan

Makes the demon blush again



Don’t you accept it my dear

The British were better

Gentlemanly and the honest

The cunning but purely so

For what we do

They would have committed suicide



We exploit our kin,

We help only with a plan

We bow, only to a benefit

We are blind to the truth

We think only the wicked and vilest

We plan only the death and downfall

Of those who trust us

Of those who work

So that we enjoy

Of those who share their live with us

For fools they are



We withdraw only to strike again



We, the people, the bosses and the bureaucrats

We, the politicians, all those with power in hand

And an eye on the pocket

Of the naïve and puppet



Are we a match to the British?

Nay

The British were better after all.

**********************

A new philosophy



Who is a boss?

One who has a patron!

Somewhere high up

On, who knows how to break all up,

One who holds the sweetie pie to some,

And the stick with warning stuck

One who can manage to confuse

One who can excel in lies and back tracks

One who can kill his conscience to further his growth,

He will be the boss

The boss forever

For his bosses will like him

Forget it, if his growth is on the skeletons of the weak and trusty.



What is a man?



Man is system

In each sphere, he has a group of his own

In each sphere, his actions are based on all new



An employee,

Now the ass,

The coolie,

Or the dog



A family man,

The target,

The helpless

Or the henpecked



A friend,

The wicked,

The deceitful

Or the treacher



A preacher,

The double mouthed,

The white n black

Or the hollow tube



A son,

The wise,

The selfish,

The koel

A leader,

The money wise,

The power wise,

The politics wise



A follower,

The boot licker,

The maid servant,

The whipping boy



An artist,

The confused,

The confounded,

Or the bedazzled and bewildered



A critic,

The useless,

The senseless,

And the picker of pebbles among the pearls



A littérateur,

The paid,

The puppet,

The mouth piece,

The rolling mill



A boss,

The cunning,

The brute

And the idiot



A lover,

The slog,

A nut,

The man of herd,

The debauch and the lusty.





What is love?



The legalized name of lust

The one word to compete with void and zero

The one passport to a kill amongst the innocents

The one way to break a match

The one way to dupe a partner for life

The only way to give vent to your hatred for me

The only word that says ‘your are bored’



What about right and wrong



There is nothing permanent to note of these

The one in power is always right

The one who gives is always right

The one who kicks you around is right of course



The money giver

The wife swapper

The rumour monger

And the greatest chamcha

You know

Are always right

No what that may mean



The rest are wrong

Don’t you remember sir

They will include

The deserving and the poor

The honest and the pure

The loving and the giving

The straight and believing.





What is employment?



The magic wand that lures all

The final trophy after the dreams and the distress

The contract of sale, lock stock and barrel

Your life is sold

You are sold

Your wife is sold

You can’t speak out now

You can’t act now

You are not authorized to think

You are not supposed to feel

You must stick to the rule

Forget it, if it was framed for something else



You have to bow down, even when I snatch your right

You have to lie down, let me ride on your back to progress

You have no entity as such

Except what we make out

For you from our rules



What is an ideal?



The much talked about word

One word which fills your heart, when you were a boy

One word which you used for gain when at college

One word which got you the job when at the interview

One word that means money once you are employed

One word that needs approval once you are employed

One word that calls for a hushed tone once the supervisor is around

One word that can be killed to mean what the boss pleases

One word that you preach to be known as great

One word that you quote to hide all your sins and failures

One word alas! That gives you license to publish your autobiography.



What is friendship?



The way to kill your boredom

The way to increase your clients

The way to satisfy your bosses

The way to show off to your wives

The way to hide all your weaknesses

The way to multiply your savings in a short time

The way to gang up against the unsuspecting

The way to legitimize your lust for sin

The way to eulogize your drive for money

The way to accept the strength of your opponent



What is greatness?



The certificate of bosses

The writing off from the normal

The pinnacle of seclusion

The prison of freedom and thought

The stamp fo loyalty and of dishonesty

The alms of those who matter in the world

The product of manipulations and payments galore

The headline of corrupt and pig headed pen and print bosses



What is truth?



The objective and the provable

The one with the seal of statistics

The one uttered by ignorant majority

The one accepted by your authority

The one upheld by affluent minority

The one sought after by blind geniuses

The one branded as acceptable by the powerful

The one passed for print by those with a say

The one imprinted on you by repeating it a thousand times

The one that is presented with gloss and class on the silver screen

The one that passes off as the top class in a drunken room

The one stamp of failure

The one stamp of success

The one stamp that spells gallows to the mum



The one that you prove to all those

Who think you

Who like you

Who live you

Who are nothing but for you



The one that should have been as per the laws and rules

The one that was to exist as per the scriptures and mullahs.
*********************************


GOING HOME

VINGO WHINES



Out on parole

Where to?

To home may be

Home does it exist

Fourteen years of absence

Of forsaken duties and helplessness

She and the kids out on their own

Without help sympathy or succour

The wily crafty world



May be she was stung too often, too bad

May be kids bothered her non stop

May be she couldn’t take it for so long

A man may be, she’d accepted

May be she’s another’s pride



I bade her act

What she chose to do—who knows



Am I worth now?

Worth for the family

May be the years in the can

Have made a stranger of me

May be they’d shy away

Shy away from owning a con

A label too bad and bold



I am bound home

Where else to go I haven’t thought of

Could I build another life?

Could I make another beginning?

With so little to back up

Could I face the world?

The world without her and the kids

Could I—well who knows



Will she then wait for me?

Wait for such a long time

Wait for a useless me

Wait to hold me and own me

Wait to give me a chance





Only chance I ask for

Only chance I yearn for

Will the world allow her?

Will she be my love again – who knows

Can I make it to her?

Can I make it without her?

Will I live long without her?

Will the life be the same again?

Could I be of some use to them?

Some use in some way perhaps

Some use in their lives



What’ll the oak look like?

Barren after shedding all leaves

Like a post without lights to blaze

Look as lost as I am



Will it beckon me with yellow smile?

Will it call out, ringing in the valley?

Will it dance, dance the yellow jig

Will it cut a cold stare and order me out

Me, a number for so long

Will I get a chance to be ME AGAIN?

Will I, may be – who knows



I am near it

The long big Ben

Should I look at it?

Should I avoid it?

Well it’s time for a decision

I can’t believe it

Is it the oak, or a yellow tree?



Kerchiefs galore fluttering mad

She has accepted me

She loves me so long so pure

She hasn’t written me off



My love waits for me

I am lucky

I am a man

I can live now

Bye the big bad world

I am home again

I am!

I am!

******
On sankranthi



Red white dark and gray

Thousands and odd

Fly in the sky, tied to hand

Are led in the bizarre of ways

KITES, the kings of the sky

Over looking them all

The lilting waters

The sprouting lilacs

And the proudish people



Each goes up in a fit of rage

Cutting off the thread of the other

To release it off to the sky above

Or the waiting hands below

Armed with branches leaves or sticks

Eyes fixed on the freed sky birds

Unmindful of ditches or rocks

Running and hoping fighting and panting

Come the errand boys, one before a herd

Some reach the caressing hands of one

Others get lost in the tussle for ownership

Yet they fill with delightful colours

The dull and gloomy sky

The abode of HIM the creator and destroyer of all

Falling and rising

Losing and gaining

Riding on the breeze

Falling under the rage

They bear the brunt all alone

Calling on all to follow suit

Not to joy over the height

Nor to brood over the fate

But to go on showering joys

On one and all, the big and small

The hearty and stealthy

The bad and the worse

How true! How true!

They are echoed in the sky

The rise and fall

The birth and death

The caress of a heart

The brunt of a foot

That is so quick

And yet a …. MUST!
******************************


A JOURNEY

CRP, CRP

Baramunda, Baramunda

My heart jumps

At the lyrical yells

Running half panting

Tired from office

They beckon me

Like long lost friends

Seats are offered

Assurances made

Bells jingle, engine whirrs

The human sea erupts from everywhere

People mumble

Cough and sneeze

Comment on the day’s news

Some chit chat

Others argue

A fight or two is ever handy

Yelling gets louder

Whistles harsher

Time and wait seem to linger longer

Get going you bum

Can’t you see?

We are in a hurry

With reluctance of lover leaving his beloved

Looking back and pausing ever so often

The pregnant bus leaves the stand

Bursting at the seems

A collective sigh

You bet you heard

A running maid

A helping hand

An old man

Waves it to a stop

You wonder at the courtesy and care

And of course the capacity

In gurgles

You are delivered

After an eternity

An end to a journey so sweet

And yet so long.

*******************************

THE HAAT

I see lights in the yonder

Life in the ghost village

Thrice a weekly visitation

Smells waft through the air

Groups move in unison

Empty bags aimed to fill

Cycle bells, ankle bells

Giggling belles, rustling dress

Walking nearer, a raising crescendo

Parked vehicles, helter skelter

Waiting rickshaws, eager labour

Lights galore, shops bright

Chari, chari rice mounds a kilo

Dui dui, pyajo dui

Begun begun, kilo teeni

Lined in rows and columns

On the ground, in dim light

Kerosene lanterns, fight the shadows

Women lead with men in tow

Lazy men with cycles in tow

Cows compete for a green or two

Enquiries pour in, deals struck

Weights weigh, bags fill

Packets empty, coins sound

Wares exhaust, dealers sigh

Procession begins, for you and I

A few argue, others reminiscence

Spread out hands, collect alms

Plans are made, and feet aim home..