Future?

Future?

They ask me if I think of my future
– have you ever thought of…?
I tell them – I take a day a time
And future as unknown with numerous unknowns and possibilities

I have stopped dreading the future
Out of sheer shame
It is a sheer privilege and luxury
To be alive while many are dying or
Being killed mercilessly

It is not just humans I am talking about
Those are always the collateral
Quid pro pro you see?
No, no – not just life for life
But life for land, minerals, rivers, seas and power

I also mean the other species, climate, air
Trees, rivers, mountains, glaciers, 
Ponds, lakes, forests,.estuaries and wetlands
The planet under the great threat
The land sharks are on the loose
They are worse than the sea ones

And they point out to their political masters
Who they say have a cut
They serve the greed, lust and perversity
They point to you and me too
Our flawed dreams and aspirations

We all want an immortal home
In our mortal lives
We pretend to do it
For our future generations
By killing theirs and rest others

We don’t know where the Owlets went
Or the fledglings
Or the big cats, elephants or the tiny ones
When that wild fire raged
Or the bombs dropped

Future? You ask…
I don’t think it’s gonna be any different
We would be perhaps hanging on the walls
In lovely framed photos taken by best cameras
Which would be vintage ones tomorrow

Those who will survive, will ask
Like we often ask –
Why no one acted to end the war?
Or save the planet?
And life on it?
They would perhaps
Live the tragic consequences
Of our inactions

Being gone, is being free too
Eventual absolute freedom
From the degenerating bodies, ailments
From the cells which start dying
From the day we are born

Being free of the conscience
Free of thoughts and guilt
Not having to bear witness
To ghastly progress
Where we prefer algorithmic voice
And intellect too

I want my plants and trees and rivers
and nature to outlive me
I want to dream of a future that will
Breathe in gratitude
And not curse their past where
Everything was normalised and livestreamed

I just want the future to breathe
I want possibilities of the future to exist
While the present is hell bent on harming it
Just for its own imagined ‘collective good’
For the collectives which are exclusive clubs
Of the powerful, greedy and merciless

I know I don’t have a future
One day dying cells will win over
I know I will wrinkle and wither
Just like my flowers and leaves
There cannot be any other way

Perhaps I am already dead, so are you
We watch it all live streamed
Wildfires, melting glaciers, dead rivers,
Erased forests and the lakes 
Bombs and deaths of the little ones

We still go out and buy those ACs
Cars, new flats and their abundant lies
We think we are part of the exclusive ‘collectives’, the chosen fittest species
With exclusive passes
To the grand party on the plundered land!!!

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?

Silly Significance

With her chin-up
And chips down
With spring in her feet
She trots on the globe
Our blue dot
But she is not alone

There are billions of us
Totally lost
In the humongous mess
Of hundreds of imagined worlds
And faiths
And the great sense of propriety
All trying to be right
By proving others wrong

Kudos to us for
Throwing out the baby
– our sustenance
Along with the bath water

All self similar beings
Trying so hard
To advance their race
By killing each other
The sheer madness

We still love to imagine
And believe
It’s the sun that sets
Or rises for us
Instead of –
– that’s it’s we go
Around an axis
Downside up
And upside down
Along the elliptical

Planet doesn’t care
Whether it’s dinosaurs
Or only us
Neither does the Universe

Feeling all self-important
With bloated
or deflated egos
With the chin up
Or chips down
We continue to seek
our significance
In the grand cosmic
Insignificance

But does it have all to be
So dangerously silly?
by pitting imagined worlds
Imagined selves
And imagined gods
Against each other
And against Nature!

Upholding Heritage Buildings in the era of Development

It is a big challenge to safeguard heritage structures in a city which is growing and developing fast. Unfortunately, this development happens without a plan to save old heritage structures which define the city character and culture. It is indeed heartening to see the awareness campaign lead by the writer Amit Chaudhuri and his group. The campaign is garnering support as one of the themes of oldest locality  in Kolkata’s biggest festival of Durga Puja depicts this very concern through its installation art!!

One can only hope the city planners and local authorities will come up with a master plan to restore the old glory and plan new buildings keeping in mind the true aesthetics of the city.

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/kolkata/Heritage-gets-a-helping-hand/articleshow/49425515.cms
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