Author is not an alien

Author is not an alien
I write because we had deleted enough

Thursday, January 27, 2011


Jammu &Kashmir has been a part of India,"has been"because for long we have forsaken the land Hundred &millions of people lose there lives in this state &we act as if nothing untoward has happened .A mere act of violence or blocking of highways initiates a  process of dialogue n discussion in rest of India but corpses keep piling up n let us not blame the govt alone "the other india"seems so detached from the whole issue
This indifference of mainland India towards Kashmir is as much a burning factor in alienation of land as is the politics of separatism n extremism from the stone pelting situations to the high profile &provocative yatra by BJP towards lal chowk aren't we actually instilling a sense of estrangement in the minds of ordinary kashmiri
instead of establishing the values which our national flag embodies of justice,solidarity ,empathy &unity ,we still carry out politicaly motivated acts of meaningless symbolism
If just by hoisting national flag we could bring about a sense of belonging the 60 years of official ceremonies would have resulted in miracles for the land
J&K wud be an integral part of India when residents of the land wud hoist the tricolor themselves n free themselves of distrust n estrangement that is deeply embedded in their minds
patriotism is the last refuge of scoundrel ,ministers who have ashamed us as a nation wud continue to preside over republic day ceremonies 
If something really needs to be done for J&K,make an ordinary person over there believe that he is an INDIAN first &his grievances matter to everyone as a nation
HAPPY REPUBLIC DAY "as an Indian i hope that the process of safeguarding this country from those who are undermining its foundations begin by hoisting the national flag there...
Unclaimed Body
An unclaimed body
Abandoned mercilessly
In a bleak alley of
This dark-drab city.
Battered and shattered
Wrapped in utter helplessness
Aloof, uncared for
Besmeared with blood
Eyes open and firm
Complaining innocently
An unclaimed body abandoned mercilessly.
Oh God! could anybody
Come forward and help me out?
But that was not to be
Numbness grew deeper and deadly
Akin to the disasters of
Hiroshama and Nagasaki.
Dogs sat around lethargically
Satiated with human flesh and booty
With eyes half-closed, heads down
Weeping, perhaps, on 'his'
Approaching death, mournfully
An unclaimed body abandoned mercilessly.
Mehndi (Henna)on his hands
Had not faded entirely
Hair of his beard had not
Sprouted completely.
Bubbling with youth
A blossom of promise soaring high.
Sister must have looked around
Mother must have waited at the door
Old father must have gazed around anxiously
An unclaimed body abandoned mercilessly.
A few days later
Quoted a Urdu Newspaper
'We killed him, he was an informer
An adversary of the Movement, a deceiver'
A reader reacted instantly:
'Yes, he was a militant
Foe of the nation, enemy agent--'
Yet another murmured silently:
'Neither a militant nor an agent
A loved/misguided son of the valley
A Kashmiri youth
Done to death brutally
An unclaimed body abandoned mercilessly.

Friday, January 14, 2011


So i wanted to write about this topic since first encounter with this word was in my"hindi classes"&i realized we all are nostalgic at times
"the term  Nostalgia actually refers to yearning for the past often in an idealized form as in"the good old days"
The good old days......the days of childhood,the days of games,the days when we had a crush on our primary school teacher,the days when what mattered was just"who has the larger share of cake"or "the latest toys",the days when getting a "very good"remark on our assignments by the teacher meant the world
" True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories. "
so we grow up amid hide &seeks,newer dreams,newer interests,
newer aims which ranged from being the cricket team captain to having that official team dress of the volleyball girls team,newton's laws never invoke so much interest as "whoz having an affair with whom"issues,utterly confused &irritated over the fact that is getting a rank in IIT &PMT is that important than having a "kuch kuch hota hai"type love story....
"Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days.
  Nostalgia is a seductive liar "
time passes amid we come to know about a secret that our parents are so uncool","interfering"&theres a hell of"generation gap"n we feel we are the only one on this planet to be so tortured &ruled over,friends become our world,birthday parties most happening days,we plan to bring about a change in system with the plan to include MB &other novels in syllabus rather than those boring subjects
but then whats  wrong in going nostalgic if the"good old days"bring a smile on our face ,if an old dress makes me remember the day when i participated in fancy dress as a fairy but when i saw the crowd in front i started crying on stage(:-),nostalgia reminds us of the stupid issues over which we argued,nostalgia presents before us our growth as a person ,as a human being .we live with one foot in past n thats what life is all about
Nostalgia or resignation settles somewhere in my chest
And I can't quite tell the difference any more
Have I given up on you and does it make any difference?
And every day the battle over your potential becomes a war of attrition that I can only lose
Such are the repercussions for falling for a girl only when she reads philosophy
So we become the tryst that should have been but never was

As for nostalgia, there is nothing so pure as the palliative effects of memory
And nothing as safe as escaping into the known, quantifiable world
But how does one remember things they've never seen?
So for now I feel a familiar sense of loss over worlds I've never known
Reassured by historical distance.

The clock has been struck
And beginnings have become
Caterpillar long transformed
And marathons already run

As the crescendo fades into the ether
I deprive myself of the chance to admire what has become and what will never be
No opportunity to wonder at this modern world and no occasion to lament a loss
Before the next set of becomings is heaped upon my back and the task of maintenance sets in
For nothing is ever as sweet as the experience (even in retrospect) of becoming
And so little in this world can ever perpetually become.