I am Sorry

For I will die
another death
and yet another one
For my heart will beat
only to one name
without fear without shame
For I will always miss
the air the pain the kiss
that was shared in dreams
For my thoughts are where
I can't stop and I can't start
coz it was never better to part
For the only way the best will happen
Is my leaving the place where we were
and we are not
and being there where we can be
together once and forever!!

Again

If time sweeps you across
Memories flow again
of the present and the past
The present is still in thoughts
Waves of the past flowing by
as a river without droughts.

I sit by and go through my blog
which has my life in a form
not known not shown
by anyone but me
And it echos again
Nobody knows you better today
than you have yesterday.

My Blue frock , my red ball
and the first sight of the
much awaited new mall
The first sight of the exam sheet
and the joy of that first beat
The rains that dripped
and the cycle that tripped
Long forgotten those moments
still bringing smiles in the forest so dense.

From Time to Time

I have been thinking , though that's not a favorite pastime on my part to trouble my little Grey cells but still sometimes I go against the usual and think. And so as I had been thinking, a particular thought jumped from my sub conscious to my conscious having lingered in the former for a long time.

I had been traveling from Hyderabad to Nagpur (my NOW home town owing to my Parents frequent shift in latitudes and longitudes which they owe to the Indian bank Industry). I was invariably accompanied by my brother who was as usual engrossed in some kinky sounds which they call music today (Sorry which we call music , while writing I forget that I am still a youngster ) and some gibberish material formed novel. It was a 2nd AC compartment and the other 2 seats where occupied majorly by bags and poly-bags which my mother used to bring home while shopping in 90s , 'Srikati Sarees' , Ratanlal ke Namkeen' , 'Chappal main Chappal - Lata Footwear' to name a few. Behind them hidden was a man of round about 75 and his son who also looked as old as the man , I could guess he was the son because the roles had been reversed and the son was feeding the father with the same care as would have taken place years ago with characters changed.

My brother had already escaped with his essentials to the topmost seat, I was also trying to do some reading , but alas it remained a try throughout the journey. I thought I had made a mistake by gazing in the direction of the heaps of food bags that Uncle and His Son were carrying. I was actually trying to read the name of the place and trying to fit it with the people as to know the identity (this is a frequent pass time for me while traveling although in Air flights you don't get these pleasures ). Uncle said ' Lijiya beta app bhi kahiye bahut sara hai ' This 'BAHUT SARA' was lots of Khachodi with Chai, Namkeen and Chatni. After a struggle of mind (I am an avid newspaper reader and if not I have a granny who despite of reading no newspapers has given a no signal for chit chats and sharing food items in trains) I said a polite No, and as a gesture of not showing this rudeness asked Uncle where he was from and other generic questions which later proved out to be my inspiration for writing this article.

It all started quite unknowingly, Uncle said " That in his days which were likely to be ranging from 1940s Samosa was 1 pasie ka 2 , and chatni free , now even 1 aloo will not come in 1 Re" , I wanted to tell Uncle that 1 aloo can still come in one Re having learned enough vegeterian mathematics from my cook but restrained. Aloo led Uncle in his golden Raj Kapoor sorry Prithvi Raj Kapoor days " I built a pukka house of 2 floors in 10000 Rs. , and that too with chuna on walls" , I noted the point that choona was cheaper than paint for sure " Bhai tab ka zamana kya tha , darwaze par tala lagane ki zaroorat hi nahi thi ............................" continued with a long story of a system where no locks were put because people understood their needs and never wanted to have more by stealing than what they deserved by earning.

I slowly began to relate to the India where there was more transparency and more trust within the heart than the mind, where people cared and cared without hidden intention. The India which was lived by many and loved by many.

Yes, changes have happened from time to time , I realized long after Uncle had slept but his voice was still giving me thoughts.

Go Beep - The life of my Clock

It rings
In my head
All the time
I want it to stop
Its always there
Being cursed
By the one
Who asked it to ring
Still it rings
Without any delay
Getting Thrashed
By the hands
Who coiled it
Late last night
When the boss said
"Come Early Tomorrow"
and I blamed
everything again
on the Clocky sorrow!!

Most Wanted List Part 2- Khakhi shorts and White Linen Shirt :)