Rishi Valley Times

*Country Roads-John Denver playing in the background*
As I sit on the windowsill & look at the raindrops falling off the leaves on the trees swaying in the wind,I am taken back to Asthachal on one rainy Saturday in Rishi Valley,my own little paradise on Earth.Sitting there by myself & just thanking whosoever's plan it was to send me there.The dark skies,my illegal Ipod playing my favourite songs,a pen & a paer in hand but nothing to write.Just sitting there on the wet rocks after the downpour in awe of the beauty of the hills.
Astha
And then,taken back in time,to the prettiest evening on Astha!I stayed back after everyone had gone from "Astha"(15 minutes of silence on a particular hill every evening..It's beautiful!) & went & sat on my favourite rock.It always provides me with an amazing view.That evening,to my left were the silhouetted three Kondas(Rishikonda,Middle Peak & Bodikonda)looking majestic as ever.Straight ahead was a forest fire near Red Rocks. The full moon in the sky amidst the dark ominous clouds added to the perfection.I ran home & dragged Nehal back with me,in her lovely pink pyjamas!!When we got there,she noticed something to our right-two more forest fires on the adjoining hills.Altogether,a most fantastic experience!

Now,I recollect myself walking to the K Tree(a banyan tree under which the philosopher & founder of my school,Krishnamurthy,used to sit)with Gagan,Sujay,Hari & Sabu on a hot afternoon in February,2007,during our study holidays.When we were supposed to be studying for our boards,the 5 of us retards would be sitting/sleeping in the shade of that tree on our stone benches(each had one where we'd sit regularly)cracking silly jokes, talking about life/family/food,etc(nothing study related-a rule),bitching about people flirting with the "respective other"s or simply jumping off the tree onto a pile of stacked leaves to feel worthy of being knighted.As Hari once advised me,"If you ever see a banyan tree,think of us,climb it & let yourself go wild!".I shall,Knight of Hibernation!

In my head,I am on my hike to Bodikonda. Zohair,the nice guy that he is,is offering to carry my bag because I,as usual,am falling!Backwards,that too,which adds to the agony of Abhiroop,who is behind us.I am determined to make it to the top myself without any help,but at one point, Poopy insists & I give it to him.Next,I see myself walking with Athang & Sneha. Athang & I following our tradition of singing random songs on hikes.We now find out that Sneha despises our songs.She says that I am better than Athu but I shall not stand this insult of my singing partner!We sing louder, now joined in Babu, Rajan & Arya(who I accidentally walk into a hook thorn bush with!).The poor girl is subjected to mental torture & finalls runs to Madhuri or Radha for help.We are overjoyed with our victory & now start counting the number of times I trip on the hike.Babu tries to beat my number but alas! I prevail as the winner.Clumsiness is just my thing!

Prep time-supervised studying for 70 minutes in the evening every weekday.Torture for restless kids like me!I tear a piece of paper from my commerce notebook which I never use & write something silly & pass it to Tejal(Mommy 1-calls me Duckie).I am very bored,as usual.She curtails her laugh so that Mitraji does not find out,writes something in it( a reply to what I wrote) & then,passes it to Chetana(Mommy 2-calls me Sushipa) who is seated far away from the two of us.Chetana replies & then,again Tejal,and then me,and then...The viscious cycle continues till the one who is passing it for us gets annoyed or till we get caught or till we hear the lovely bell that tells us that dinner awaits us,whichever is first.Then,the 3 of us walk to the DH(Dining Hall) after cribbing because one of us made the other 2 wait for some reason or another.

Dinners.The best meal according to me,though many would disagree & choose dull lunch!Grab a plate & "butt into the line" to get food faster! Being a senior helps as we can TRY(in my case) to bully my juniors sometimes!It is a special day for me.I see it there being served so sparingly by the Pappamakkas.The look & smell of the Gobi Manchurian on these rare Saturdays(twice or thrice a term)gets me hyper!I take my share & Babu comes & gives me his share in exchange for the paneer I gave him on Thursday!"Today is my lucky day",I sing.Next walks in Sharat,entering the DH late & walking like a stud!He is a football stud after all..I catch his eye & ask "First for yours?!" with pleading eyes.It has become a mutual understanding now.He either nods(& I get the whole share) or mouths "Half".I run to DP(Deshpande Sir) & I'm now on Cloud 9 as I am getting his Gobi too.I sit,thank my well wishers who gave me their shares,& eat it all up without talking much(Surprising since it's me & I love to talk!).If I can eat more,I take extras from the counter.I wash my plate,swing for a while with Kiran or Nehal and go home,rush to my bed & have a good night's sleep with a big smile on my face.

Who was he?

This is a poem about a very close friend of mine who would think like a very mature person, well beyond his age.He was very unique & different as compared to his friends but he still did have to fit in.I hope he can find the strength to be the him I once knew.

Feeling so intense yet can act not on it.
Shunning society in his mind but adamant to comply.
He sees himself yet will part with the sight,
He knows he can but pretends otherwise.
He may not give in to changes,
He can take things in his stride,
But will not.
She can hope that he holds on to the man she once knew.
A numbing silence follows,piercing the heart.

Unplanned End

Catch me by the hand before I fall completely into darkness where I can't even see myself,
The path you led me through has left me lost and confused as to which way to go,
You leave me no choice but to keep walking,hoping fot the best and wishing you were here,
Even so,I sometimes wish you were'nt here,
Because you reside in my thoughts,so very clear.
I've dreamt a dream which is far from real,
My fairy-tale ending which I shall never see...
To a glimmer of hope I still hold on,
for what real hope? Those that are gone?
Where did I go wrong and what did I do?
That this fate lies ahead of me,where I am not with you.
Dont answer that question,I must answer it on my own,
I shall some day find the answer,and till then I am alone.

Mummy-A Tribute

My first call to her kept ringing for 45 seconds.
She did not pick up.
Second call-26 seconds.
Panic seized me.
Without caring about what could adorn my feet, I ran down the steps,2 at a time, all the while, trying her line persistently.
Still no reply.
The worst thoughts cross one’s mind when they know that a loved one might be suffering in the brewing storm outside.
Fear. Loss. Suffering. Love.
When we do not have contact with that person after being so used to their presence, it gives us shivers down our backs.
I didn’t care about the trees falling all around me and the shattering of the glass.
I held the trees for support on my way out, with the wailing wind & the slaps of rain against my face.
The call got through & she said that she was in front of a shop close to home, walking it till here because the car got stuck in the storm.
That shop is not too far from outside my building & her claim was false as I could not see her in the maroon kurta she had left the house in this morning from afar.
I held on tightly to the gate and looked around me at the road ahead.
There was at least one tree fallen every 10-15 feet, peoples’ umbrellas were turned upside down as the velocity of the wind was so strong, desperate looks on the few people on the road dying to get home to their loved ones.
I strained my eyes to the left to see as far ahead as I could against the rain.
I finally saw her coming.
Approaching as fast as she could with wary steps.
Not too pleased to see me down there that way as she came closer & saw me drenched, clutching on to the iron gate of the building, with a worried look on my face.
Though she realized that my action was justified.
I hugged her & together, we came back home to the warmth of familiarity.
I love you,Mummy.
Happy Mother's Day


This is my entry for the BlogAdda Mother's Day Contest : http://blog.blogadda.com/2010/05/05/mothers-day-tribute-to-your-mom-contest


My design choice is: http://www.pringoo.com/custom-designs/did-16695/ppid-44#widget

Movement

This photograph was taken from a train from Chennai to Kerala!

The man in purple pants stares at us
A squeal of laughter followed by sushing.
The silly kid on the opposite berth cries persistently.
At a distance,you can hear the tea seller.
In his brown uniform,the standardised call bellows loud and clear," Chai Chai".
Looking outside,it is pitch dark.
Inside,however,the lights are on.
People on their phones being loud enough to ensure that the woman in the last compartment hears.
A fat woman in a bright parrot green saree gets stuck in the door!
We all silently laugh as she turns sideways and helps herself out.
And all this time,despite the screaming and commotion,
Despite the hundreds of private conversations going on around me,
Despite the occasional stench on the opening of the door from the toilet,
The train moves on,
Constant pace and constant motion

Absolved

The nearer I came to the allotted day,
The closer I came to reality.
The further away from my healthy lover,
The nearer to the many who died before me.
Similar deaths.
The closer I am to them,
The better am I understood than I was in this life.
Ailing friends passed away before second meetings.
The healed only pity.
I am unaware of the sense of dying
But the fatalistic air lingers around me with its scent.

Confused thoughts

My life is like a soap-it keeps slipping out of my hands! I have no control over my emotions,tears,thoughts,words..nothing!But somehow,this lack of control and feeling of being unaware of what may have been,rejuvenates me.The malice itself,brings an uncertain element to my life.I hate and yet,love,and find the need to have fights in order to bring out my negative points.Jealousy incites in me a certain excitement,which cannot die out in screams far away.I can absorb enough love and yet not feel loved.I'm scared to love so much that it chokes the person.
Some people feel that they are not worthy of being loved and keep trying to connect to their past.We've become passive!Our race should die because we take things for granted but we are not rightful owners of this life!We're submissive creatures in life because we're too scared to fight for it!I question who I am and why I feel such things?!To realize who we really are,we must unmask ourselves before the mask becomes us.Why lead a life of pretense?Why portray that we are not afraid and are strong when our shields were let down ages ago?"Fear is not a bad medicine if felt in the right dosage".

Your time has come to go deeper
Your final journey's just begun
Your destiny chose the reaper
No fear.
Destination Darkness

-No Fear-The Rasmus

Prayer Before Birth-Louis MacNeice

This is one of my favorite poems ever!The poet uses the image of a child(a representation of the future generation)expressing his fear about being born into a world
where the human race is so savage as is portrayed in the poem.It shows how humans are born innocent and are corrupted
in their lives here.Birth is used as a metaphor for the awakening into the ways of the world.
It can be viewed as a prayer to God or humanity-an appeal  for a worthwhile and natural life free from the threats of terror,
pretentiousness,conformity,barriers,loss of individuality,a world scourged by pollution,manipulation,etc...
I hope you like it..
............................................................................................................................................................
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
   club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
   with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
      on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
   to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
      in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
   when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
      my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
         my life when they murder by means of my
            hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
   old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
      frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
          waves call me to folly and the desert calls
            me to doom and the beggar refuses
               my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
   come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
   humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
      would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
         one face, a thing, and against all those
            who would dissipate my entirety, would
               blow me like thistledown hither and
                  thither or hither and thither
                     like water held in the
                        hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.