Time stood still
We giggled and giggled
Like a pair of good old kids
But in their fifties
Time Stood still
As we stared at those benches
In the front of the canteen
Where we often sat and sang
Time has stood still
In that college campus
When pleaded the guard
To let us in
We went back in Time
Through those gates
Perhaps to seek our younger
Gullible, ugly and clueless selves
We patted on their backs
For making it through
For finding each other
To make up lost time
But who knew
All sand was about to slip
In that damn hourglass
For one of us
What a chance it was
That we took
Instead of standing each other up
We finally showed up
And we made the Time
Re-wind and replay it all
We relived our nostalgia
And made fresh memories
Re-unions are the sweetest
They take us back in Time
To meet ourselves and find love
Even if it is for one last time!
Tag: death
The Bell
For Whom will the bell toll?
In fond remembrance
Of ones we lost?
Or for us who lived?
The bells can no longer
Keep the count perhaps
The bell no longer tolls
Where are the Hemingways and Orwells?
The ones who toiled
In armies and in kitchen
To write about how it felt
To hear those bells
For whom will the bell toll now?
And how long?
Wars are unending
Ceasefires rarely cease fire
The bells can no longer
Keep the count
Of who is on which side
Who is the winner or loser?
And whom should it toll for?
The ones who lost yet won
Or ones who won yet lost
The bell no longer tolls
There are mourners
But no graves
There are lovers
But no love
For whom will the bell toll?
For you and me
Or for the one who went away
And who can no longer hear
Time has set itself free
It doesn’t count anymore
How can it possibly measure?
What we no longer value
6/3/25
Bangalore
A Place Called Home
For some it’s a place to return to
For some it is a place to escape from
For some it is a place they cannot return
And for some it is a place they cannot escape
A Place Called Home
That illusive space in time
Where we think we belong
The place to fight for
Or die for
A Place where we wake up
And go to sleep
A space where we thrive
It becomes an identity
Pride and asset
A place called Home
Yet it doesn’t take much
To tear it down
The home of your childhood
Or to lose it to the occupiers
Who too think it is theirs
A Place Called Home
Wars are fought and lost
A lifetime is spent as refugee
What remains is in our memories
And in imagination that illusive space
A Place called Home
Where I am me
Unapologetic me
A place where we can be
Let alone in peace
To go on with our daily drudgery
Watch our flowers bloom
While I looked for it
A place called Home
I didn’t realise
I was home within me
On this planet
Which is our home
We often fail to protect
While fighting to save our idea
Of a place called Home
Departures

Only regret stays
If only…
What if…
Just like
Driftwood in rapids
People drift away
Some choose
For some
It’s not a choice
Time stands still
With moments lived
And unlived
Departures
Without goodbyes
Are the toughest
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
Kaleidoscope
Escaping with little
Leaving home behind
A refugee in the world
Only a sky and courage to behold
Empty mansions
Tired caretakers
Only wealth to behold
A hostage to greed
Twain realities coexist
Yet they never meet
Peace is easy to violate
War remains difficult to negotiate
Ah! World…so predictable
With no new way ahead
We trudge the known bloody paths
Self-similar war games
Us and them
Power bereft of reason
Reason bereft of compassion
Compassion bereft of love
Love bereft of logic
Logic bereft of purpose
A farce called out
Wit bored of sarcasm
Futile cynicism
Kaleidoscope needs to be shaken
A new pattern must unfold
Out of all brokenness…
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
The ‘Cancel’ Culture
It has been an interesting week. It began with my tryst with ‘cancel culture’ during Gandhi Jayanti. I guess across all sections there is a growing trend of cancelling Gandhi and of course Nehru. We all know how and when it started. But given the traction it has received we must introspect.
I don’t think it began in recent years, resentment towards these two leaders was always there among a certain cross section but now it has got amplified thanks to modern narratives and propaganda being spread through Whatsapp university and social media. Their own personal lives and lifestyle choices are casting a very dark shadow on their roles as powerful leaders who shaped India’s non-violent freedom movement and nurtured India’s new born democracy in its infancy.
It is ironic that as we gloat and compete for IITs, build new IITs, the leaders who steered India towards higher education and scholarship are being vilified and defamed casually. With their names too being removed from public spaces, I really don’t know whether their legacy and commitment towards non-violence, equality and high quality education for all will be remembered at all. Perhaps they will be known only for their personal life scandals just like film stars, writers, artists, or celebrities lives are often reduced to. I really don’t know where this ‘cancel’ culture will lead us unless there is another counter culture to balance it. I guess we are headed towards collective amnesia that Marquez and Galeano often talked about. We will not remember the past or how it shaped us because we are too busy cancelling it.
News from France has been interesting too. Bedbugs have entered our daily conversations too. Almost everyday I get to hear about bedbug related scares, jokes and their repercussions. Campus talks apparently are questioning kinds – why should French bedbugs be in the news at all when almost all big cities and countries have it? There are conspiracy theories afloat. France of course is not in denial and they are doing their best. My son’s room and entire residency underwent sanitization. It is evident from the recent focus of media stories on ‘islamophobia’ in France or this bed bugs saga that there is cancel culture propaganda and messaging. Like us, the French are apparently blaming their neighbours (who have fallen out over Brexit) for their woes and negative publicity.
Students of course have been kept busy with coursework and high level courses. After classes they huddle in discussion spaces available around the campus. Apparently, these spaces have reference books, tiny cafes and cluster desks for students to sit and discuss. Since classes are of 3 – 4 hours duration, they are allowed to walk out in between to get their cuppas. Teachers are highly impressive and they hold the attention of the class for 3 -4 hours at a stretch. From what I understand European universities have very rigorous undergraduate courses so students from elsewhere, even those who are doing double masters, are struggling a bit. They all are taking courses as a challenge so I guess they are happily engaged between classes and looking for groceries they need.
Finally my son went to a tiny Indian neighborhood thanks to his Ecuadorian classmate who wants to try cooking Indian cuisine while my son is getting introduced to Latin American sauces and recipes.He finally found – green chillies too – he was missing their taste and flavour the most. They are having nice little cultural exchanges and celebrating diversity. He gave a hearty laugh saying there you are trying to plan a festival to celebrate diversity but here we are celebrating it every day – bonhomie is amazing and no one mocks others.
He tells me, most students are very critical about their own nations and their politics so they don’t insult or mock others. I guess most nations are failing their youths in some way or the other. From what I hear, it gives me hope.
I am worried about how ‘cancel’ culture will play out in our nation’s future. Good journalism almost got literally cancelled by those who are in power last week.
France has kept its education and universities standards very high which is very heartening and it was evident when Nobel prize for Physics was announced. French Nobel laureate took the call during the break and went back to her class to complete the lesson. It says volumes about their commitment to teaching and nurturing younger generations.
Incidentally, when ‘Attosecond’ Nobel was announced, my son was doing his first lab class which he said was a great fun and nothing like the set practicals students do here. Yesterday he also said, “wish there was a way to enrol in undergraduate mathematics course here all over again and then do masters”. I had tried to steer him towards mathematics but now in French University corridors he is developing a deeper liking for mathematics. Engaging deeper is hardly visible these days in our education sphere when the focus is just to pass the exams with top grades and get qualifying degree for good jobs or positions which are so few.
My ironing lady was earlier looking for teaching jobs for her daughter who has done B.Ed from Bihar and now she is seeking any household help job for her. On the contrary, I met a brilliant MTech qualified student who is pursuing B.Ed. So we are in absurd times – qualified teachers don’t have jobs but engineers are seeking teaching qualifications as they are out of jobs too.
As a nation and as people we will keep going in circles I guess while making radius smaller and cancelling everything beyond that radius. Good luck to us!
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
Life and Death
Stink of death
Hits the nostril
Some poor creature
Took the plunge
Not realising perhaps
Its certain death
We can’t see it
But stink is unbearable
More than the
Death itself perhaps
Of that pitiful creature
That was living
Life and living
Death and dying
Polar opposites
Starting and ending
Out of nowhere
An unbearable stink
An indelible mark
Life slips away
Just like that
Into the cloak of death