Pick Yourself Up

Life teaches

How to pick

Yourself up

Along with all

The broken pieces

Of your heart

And your being

One just needs

To be patient

Those life lessons

Are like strewn clues

Hidden in a flower

Or a bleak star

In the night sky perhaps

Or on the dark side

Of the moon

When pushed

To a corner

Or into an abyss

Don’t quit

But rebel

Your life puzzle

Maybe undone

With pieces missing

But new pieces

Are strewn around you

Pick those up

Try to find

A grander puzzle

Or a greater purpose

Or just be

An unseen gardener

Toiling away

For the new seeds

To germinate

Pick yourself up

Don’t give up

Yet.

20/1/2025

Boulders

Gambling away
One’s own life
Taking risks
Leap of faiths
Seeking
The unknown  

But gambling away
Others lives?
Especially our children’s
Thinking we own it
Is always dangerous
And wrong 

A young aspirant
Gave up
So did the other and another
Fathers said
Fans need to be banned
Anti suicide device
Need to be checked

Let us control
All the factors
Look for loopholes
The peripherals
While avoiding
The truth

Sisyphus facing the
Heaviest boulders
Dared to pause
And not push
Not realising
It is not a choice
He or she had

Who decides
Size of the boulder?
Boulder of expectations
We unwittingly
Force our kids
To inherit

Boulders
Which crush them
Then we call them
Idiots who quit
We look for others
To blame
For our collective shame

Perhaps
It is the time
To imagine
Our young Sisyphus
Unhappy
With boulders and crucifixes
Of our expectations

– Jan 2025

What will become of us?

Maybe the culprits and reasons are the same so are the innocent victims. Be it Gaza, Ukraine, Manipur and other conflicts or wildfires in elite neighborhoods of Hollywood. It is a skewed idea of entitlement, unchecked growth and greed. To feel entitled to encroach and occupy – not just other nations but also nature. To completely disregard basic tenets of human existence and Nature. To stop being human to create luxuries out of miseries at the cost of the environment.

What will become of you and me are in the images of the world today. The destructive progress will reach our homes too before we know it. Natural elements like earth, fire, water and air will try to tame the shrews we have become. Earthquakes here, snowfall there, wildfire here and floods, landslides there – we refuse to read the messages they bring just like we refuse to learn from the history of hate and war.

What will become of you and me isn’t hard to imagine…we no longer even persevere and aspire to leave a peaceful and safe planet for our children. What will become of us and them?

Turn of Tides

Waiting for the tides to turn
When and where exactly do the tides turn?
When the river rushes downstream to meet the sea?
Or when sea water surges in one long big wave?
Which of the two will flood the banks?
They say glaciers are melting
Sea levels will rise and rivers too will swell
Wonder how much land will be swallowed by the waters?
And what will be left behind?
I hear the unrest of the sea of humans
They too are waiting for tides to turn
For some it will bring in fortunes
Others may simply drown
But no one knows which way will the tides turn
Whether the river will rush downstream
Or a long sea wave will hit upstream?
Everyone pretends to be in control
Unaware how their actions affect the other
While we were watchful of water waves
A fire engulfed a forest somewhere
Humans rushed to save animals and
Animals taught humans love and empathy
Maybe that’s the game
To return to one’s own self and roots
One must brave the surging seas, the fire and vanishing forests
Fighting natural elements is tough
But tougher it is to battle one’s own kind
Who believes that my end will turn their fortune tide
The fool can’t foresee the surge will drown us all!
The river bank watches yet another epic battle
Ah! The vicissitudes of Time and Tide!

time #river #sleeplessnight #poetry #tides #climatechange #empathy #love #protests #shotononeplus #blues #riverbank

The Blue Print

I see confident people around me
Who have figured it all out
Life’s bucket and checklist

The job, insurance, taxes, savings
First home, second home
Third getaway home maybe

The blueprint clear in their heads
There would be assets, things
And family playing their perfect parts

A big happy picture on the wall of life
They know they will get nice funerals
Maybe memorials, epitaphs too

I see all kinds of people around me
Well, who seem to have
Figured it all out

Their days line up
In a disciplined manner
One following the next

Smart alecs – they know
How to cease the moment
They know their politics too

They know whom to hate
Whom to other, games to play
All rules of the game

But then they can’t imagine
Others imperfect lives
With mouths to be fed, roofs to be fixed

Neither do they realise
Beauty and Fragility of life
Stupidity of their whole game

Modern Sisyphus seems happy
Happy to be a smiling cog in the wheel
Turning and turning, without the toil

I see people pretend
They have figured it all out
Even as their world falls apart

They can’t imagine
Someone’s home being razed
Children being killed and maimed

Chaos only comes home
When their lives get disrupted
And the grand plan derails

Like natural cycles
Disasters seem to have a purpose
To restore our hopes, dreams and ideals

It takes an effort to live and love
We somehow miss this simple fact
Till our homes become empty cages

I see people around me
Who seem to have all figured out
Their todays, tomorrows and dayafters

Except for the bits which need love
Compassion and understanding
Except for the fixing, we know everything!

Then the cycle repeats
With fresh blue prints
Which erases yours and mine!

My favourite spot

It is easy to imagine
You are sipping
Your morning tea
On your favourite spot
Reading your book

And suddenly
It’s all reduced
To rubbles
Except the place
Where you are sitting
In your favourite spot

You look for elevator
You need stairs
You need to run
Ground beneath feet
Did shake

And now it’s just you
On a high rise
With roof blown
Staring in disbelief

Incredibly lucky? Isn’t it?
To be perched precariously
To watch the scene change
Within seconds
You don’t know
Is it a nightmare?

Where did this missile come from?
When did the war reach my home
Till yesterday I was a civilian
A honest tax paying citizen bystander
When I did I turn into a victim?
A witness to such horror?

Do they even know I am alive?
My dear and near ones who
Probably are watching TV
Sitting in their favourite spot
Will they count me among the dead?

With no signal, no electricity or kitchen
I will have to wait
With this rage, confusion
Fear and grief
Why were we abandoned?
Who abandoned us?
The governments? UN? God?

Will this attack bring peace?
Cease-fire atleast ?
Nations will spar
Deads will be numbered
And not named
Living ones will have no names
Only identities

Suspended in disbelief
I wonder if the house
Was it insured for missile attacks?
But was this an official attack?
Will there be a paper work?
How will they prove?

Everyone will spin the narratives
We are good in condemning
What we cannot prevent
Words, words and more words
Us and them
We forget – they made us
And we made them

Imagine, it is not too difficult
Planet on the brink of extinction
But till the end money needs to be made
Stocks to be bought and sold
No need to see what companies do
Buy and sell
As long as they bring in dividends

Was this missile made by you and me?
Play the probability game
The answer may be infinitesimal
But finite
Ofcourse we didn’t know
Where our money went
Taxes and investments

We were just doing jobs
Building our homes
A place to be
With a favourite spot
To sit, sip and read
To plant our succulents

I look around
My spot, books, succulents
All are there
But rest all is destroyed
Reduced to a pile of contrete
They will find me
They need to mourn
And avenge!

26/10/23

Time That Is Now

On somedays
I just wish to
Leave myself behind
Walking in some bookshop
Or in a forest
Or climbing a hill
Be someone with no plan
At a crossroad

On other days
I just race ahead
Trying to find myself
In unseen future
Maybe still
Walking into bookshop
Or being in a forest
Unable to climb that hill perhaps

But I just can’t find or place myself
In the chaotic present
Where fear looms large
The past is receding faster
red shifting perhaps
And the future seems
To be taking forever to arrive
Maybe blue shifting on its way

Out of sync
Or perhaps out of breath
I glance back and ahead
Avoiding to look into the eye
Of the present that looms large
Will it devour us?
Time that is now

Destiny and Luck

In the name of the
Sun and sky
Let me lament
For the lives
That derailed
One late evening
Just as their lives
Were chugging along

As ever, they were
Destiny’s offspring
Unware that
That the game
Of destiny is
Forever fixed
Death is destiny
Life is luck

Suddenly many
Many lives
Ran out of luck
On that late
Summer evening
Destiny it is
To be born
In a land where
Apathy is normal
Kindness an anomaly

While their lives derailed
And were mutilated
Beyond recognition
In another far away land
Operation Hope
Was combing forests
To look for
Four lost kids
Their destiny
Lost game to Luck

Train Journeys

Anyone who has travelled by long distance trains in India will find it difficult to come to terms with this recent horrific three train collision and its aftermath.

I have travelled frequently to and fro between Mumbai – Kolkata, Mumbai – Pune, Mumbai – Sholapur, Chennai – Kolkata, Mumbai-Delhi, Kolkata-delhi and on other various routes till last year’s trip to Bombay with my son. We cancelled the return ticket and booked a flight due to multiple reasons: long delays as freight trains, I was told, were being prioritised, decline in food quality, and absolutely no reasons given for inordinate delays of 6 hrs, 10 hrs etc. When I did rant, I was often told that signalling systems were being revamped so I must not complain in the interest of the nation.


These long distance trains are microcosms of India. A compartment becomes a confluence of culture, class and plurality. Much to your annoyance or delight (depends on what kind of co-passengers you have) it is always a memorable journey.
A train becomes a singular entity ferrying people of all kinds to their destination. The variants being tea, food and other kinds of vendors, the railway kids who come out of nowhere to sweep the dirt away from under your feet, or to collect plastic bottles, beggars, singers etc. We can find all kinds of people to engage with as the train hurtles down the tracks.


In an accident like this, it is so difficult to trace vendors, railway kids, beggars who were there in the train. Maybe some of the elders will be located through their fellow vendors but what about those kids?
They too of course have a network. Once I had offered to buy a stick icecream for one of the tiniest ones, he smartly told me to wait till he got his friend from the other compartment. In no time, there were a bunch of 10 to 12 of them to have the ice cream much to the annoyance of co-passengers. I got much unsolicited advice on how they can’t be trusted and they are part of larger gangs, they rob etc.


My most painful unpleasant memory is of Coromandal express, of a stranger who tried to assault me while I was asleep and ran away before I could alert anyone. The trauma has made me a light sleeper so I stay awake either reading a book (till I am told to switch off the lights) or listen to various kinds of snoring, chugging sound of the train, kids wailing or staring out of the window into the dark interspersed by lights of small villages, towns or cities.


This microcosm of India – our long distance trains like Coromandal will continue to prevail as multitudes of Indians cannot afford any other option. One can only hope against hope that each one who lost their lives will be identified, including the vendors, vagrants, juveniles etc.
It isn’t just the trains which collided and jump tracks killing so many people. It is the trust we all have that our systems are functioning smoothly and we are on track that has been broken time and again. These deaths no longer feel like an unpredictable accident, it is again the cliched – chronicle of the death foretold. We all know our nation is being put on a track which will lead to disastrous consequences. How long before we won’t just be a spectator of multitudes of dead?

Storm

There bellows a strong wind
A storm arrives from strange lands
Just to irrevocably change
Everything that is and will be

Overnight it sweeps away
The cobwebs of Time
Changes the entire
Landscape of survival

There is no way to stop
The raging winds, tides
Lightning or the rains
No way to lock it all away

Change becomes eternal
Certainties uncertain
Life transforms
For better or worse

What remains same
Are dawns and the dusks
Motion of the planet
And yearnings of a heart

There is no going back
To recreate what it was
One that did not withstand
The winds and the storm

Yet condemned to hope
And dream
We sail our ships
Trusting oceans of Time