Memoirs

I shall pen today,
Memories of bygone days,
....
Alas, words can't do justice,
To unforgettable experiences,
This writing does just remain,
A plea to relive them again.

Absence and fondness

**Dedicated to numerous moments when being far from someone has made me realize their true value **

Proximity oft does muddle how the heart does feel,
Like the tiny white puffy cloud above does the mighty sun conceal,
Oft, distances are vital in reminding us of what is important and real,
Oft, absence is needed for love to, in all its fervor, itself reveal.

Celebrating others

Remember this, today and forever more,
For it shall serve you well -
Everyone has a story to tell,
Their masterpiece to display,
A starring role in a play,
Rejoice in the moments they shine,
Looking beyond I, me and mine,
If only for a selfish wish,
That similar accord to you they dish.

**
On a related note, is there ever a truely selfless act? http://philosophy.stackexchange.com/questions/2724/is-it-possible-to-be-truly-selfless-or-altruistic

Twilight thoughts

Staring out of the window,

Vehicles zoom by,

The cityscape lights up,

Indicating night is nigh,

The moon swaps places with the sun,

The baked roads heave a relieved sigh.

As the curtain falls on yet another day,

The poignant setting leads thoughts astray,

Some memories cannot be held at bay,

The mind working in its own mysterious way,

Overwhelms him with emotion; melancholy holds sway.

Abrupted by a light streaking across the sky,

He gazes up to see an elusive shooting star fly by,

This arrests the pervading mood,

Closing his eyes, resting his weary hands on his heart,

He breathes deeply, taking in the present,

Thankful for the ephemeral celestial boon,

Reassured that it will be morning soon.

Lost in sound

The silent lips slowly part,
Heralding the work of art,
People huddled around,
Instantly smitten by the sound.

The pervading melody,
Emanates straight from the heart,
With each subtle note,
Stirring memories of the past...
An amorous moment, a broken heart.

Memories that with each sung verse,
Ephemeral emotions bequeath,
Like leaves blowing away to reveal,
A glimpse of what lies beneath,
For newly blown leaves to conceal.

Close your eyes you must,
Least they diminish,
The ear's sensory pursuits,
Surrendering yourself,
To the mellifluous sound,
Lost in the singer's voice,
Your soul you've found.

A tryst with the night

Stealing a moment of respite,
I keep my date, pressing work despite.

Staring up at the night sky,

Thoughts meander -

Resting on days gone by,

Shattered dreams dotting the way,
Aspirations that couldn't see the day's light,
Consigned to the perpetual darkness of the night,
Stripped of the very desire to take flight,
The moon shrouded by the clouds,
Perpetuates the melancholy mood,
And I ruminate on past deeds,
Unfulfilled promises and needs,

Lost in thought, I glance up to see,
A shooting star making its way hastily,
Streaking the skies with an ephemeral glow,
Holding out promises of a better tomorrow,
I take it as a divine sign,
And focus on memories sanguine,
The moon suddenly peeks out,
Revealing to darkness, his clout,
Bathing my surroundings with pure light,
And instilling in me, a willingness to fight,
This was an enlightening tryst with the night.

Solitude

Getting up never used to be a chore,
Yet, today just seemed to be a bore,
Slowly dragging his body upright,
He vanquished the vestige of the night,
By reaching out and drawing the curtain.

The golden rays streamed into his den,
Bouncing off motes of dust,
Revealing the form of a pensive soul,
His furrowed brows did make it known,
That he was man to whom did destiny dole,
More than a fair share of cruel hands,
And that his star now just dimly shone.

Yet there was a sparkle in his eyes - an expression of hope,
And of the resolve to live through this phase - to cope,
To weather the storm and to emerge stronger,
To not shy away from his calling any longer,
He steeled himself - he has a long way to tread,
With solitude the solitary companion.

The eyes of the 'beholden'

They beckon and invite,
Appeal to hopes and aspirations,
Offer glimpses of the future that might,
Be unveiled, if looked through their sight,
Their intense gaze, pierces the soul,
Like an artist's creation, following his every move,
He appears the sole object of their desire,
And so does their beauty don a vice like grip,
Entwining his all in their mire,
Elevating him beyond existence mere,
Intoxicating him, their presence sheer.

...

Wears down this novelty in due course,
The eyes now do not even offer recourse,
For they not be directed at him anymore,
Rather do they peer, to some far off horizon,
Eagerly awaiting someone else to adore,
His hopes dashed, his desires wizened,
Engulfed by a void that suddenly surrounds,
He finds nor happiness, neither solace around,
A part of him does slowly die,
So do the eyes of the 'beholden' smite,
One in whose eyes did beauty lie.

The nay-sayer

Oft does one encounter,
The moment of pure inspiration,
When all seems possible,
And the world seems to be at your feet.

But suddenly, the little voice within,
Knocks ever so gently on the conscience,
Making its presence known,
Raking up fear of things that might go wrong,
Creating tendrils of doubt in your resolve,
And suddenly, the foothold seems not so strong,
The certitude does slowly dissolve,
Like sand slipping through clutching fingers,
Hope is displaced by foreboding that lingers,

Many greats, with achievements numerous,
Did thus have their fates sealed,
And so have lost to themselves,
Many who circumstances could not reel.

For while indeed a powerful tool,
Our caution often does make us a fool,
Our life's often take a turn for the better,
If we embrace situations that arise,
Taking them head on, rather than playing it wise,
Not letting the nay-sayer within dictate,
Rather, letting a bold decision seal our fate.
For, even if things don't work out,
Is all ever lost? Is it ever too late?

Of days gone by

I often look back at days gone by,
Silently wishing them nigh,
Engulfed in wistful thoughts,
Peering at shrouded materializations,
Through memories' nostalgic haze...

At your form do my eyes rest,
My recollections stand refreshed,
And memories come flooding by,
Of the starry night skies, the long walks,
The beautifully renditioned songs, the stimulating talks...

The days that were,
The days that no longer are,
The days that seem so near,
The days that are so far.

In words do I find refuge,
From the torrent of emotion,
So do I pen my thoughts,
Each line and every verse,
Be these memories etched away in rhymes,
Staring back longingly at past times.

In search

No sight of it I catch,

Frantic grows the search,

For this is no thing to lose...

Friends are consulted,

Acquaintances few,

And people who I thought I knew.

Alas, tis of no use.

Time ticks along,

I grow restless,

Almost sealed is my fate,

When, I catch a glimpse,

Rummaging through the baggage of time,

And emotion,

The byways of the mind,

And heart,

Do I find it at last,

Elusive as it were before,

I glance inwards, introspect,

And behold, it is revealed.

There it stands -

Solace...peace is at hand.

At the tea stall

**Part 1 of n. Attempts at describing scenes from India as I remember them**

The gold plating atop the minaret of the nearby mosque had long stopped sparkling, the sky was beginning to  lose its orange tint and day was fast fading away into darkness.

"Bhai, ek strong chai dena", said Amit to the chai-waala stationed on the pavement outside Anupama's office. The falling darkness heralded the beginning of work for these chai-waalas, whose mobile stalls, host to simmering kettles and various other paraphernalia, provided much needed respite from work for many engineers like Amit. For Amit, the visit to the tea-stall, as he waited to pick Anupama up, had become a ritual - a stimulus to transition his mind from work-issues to family. The vendor duly acknowledged his loyal customer with a quick grin of recognition, despite being flooded by numerous other requests. "Saab, memsaab lunch ke baad aayi thi chai peene", he added as his callous bare-hands lifted the simmering cauldron of milk without a flinch. He poured the hot-milk into a glass containing sugar, moving the cauldron farther from the glass over time, allowing Newton's gravity to work on dissolving the sugar. The addition of sieved tea-water, boiling in a different container, followed by a round of gravity induced stirring, and soon, Amit found himself accepting the glass of tea from the chai-waala. He placed a five rupee coin on top of the steel box that had been converted by the resourceful man from a discarded gift-box, found scavenging at a scrap-dealer's place, to the container of his earnings. 

Amit walked a short distance away from the stall, trying to shut out the clamorings of fellow tea-connoisseurs. Blowing gently on the glass, he cautiously took his first sip of the tea. The taste was not lost on him, and it had the desired effect -- it had been a long day, of work, sandwiched between numerous meetings, and he was glad to have it behind him now.

An ode

**Disclaimer** In "light" of not too old scientific discoveries, this poem may not be technically correct ;).

The healer, the revealer,
The herald of change,
Always on the move,
Striding forth regardless,
With naught to prove,
The witness to it all,
From ebb and flow of  the tides,
To seasons spring and fall,
The constant companion,
From cradle to grave,

The oft taken for granted,
Oft over-estimated,
Oft repented,
Oft enjoyed,
Oft reminisced,
Self-contained marvel.
Time...

The Happy Place

**Note to self: read when the going gets tough to get to your happy place**

** *
Buried deep in work and irritable too?
Worry not, here's what I cooked up for you
***

Do you remember the morning at the park,
I'll recount it for you,
Take you down memory's lane,
To a time when all was peaceful and sane,
Let your imagination run wild,
Imagining what follows as would a child.

Twas a memorable day,
Heralded by a cold breeze,
Indeed, in the month of May.
The flowers scented,
Swayed gently, caressed by the wind,
The morning sun streamed upon dewy grass,
And the moon did rescind.
The sky was lit with an orange tint,
The birds hopped and skipped,
From their each step, joy dripped,
The little children frolicked about,
Filled with innocence, their big eyes,
Their little hearts brimming with zest and life,
Each of them beaming a smile.

The festive spirit - Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a wonderful occasion - it gives one the time to look back at the year that has passed, and be thankful to the divine power above - God, Bhagwaan, Allah, Waheguru - for the many experiences that the year has enriched you with, with His blessings and grace.

It also allows you to be thankful to many of His embodiments in flesh that have graced your life and made it more meaningful and, well, full of life :). I'd like to take this occasion to thank everyone who
I've had the pleasure of having known in my life. Each and every one of you have impacted me in more ways that I can possibly pen down.

Be it playing games of dice with my Nanaji , eating sumptuous gaajar-ka-halwa prepared by Nani, or the tangy kheere-ka-raita by Dadi, the proud walks on the farm organized by Dadaji, all have gone a long way in shaping my personality to what it is today. Thank you for passing on your words of wisdom and showering me with unadulterated love.

The Panchtantra stories taped down by my Mom for me to listen to while a child, the Hero Ranger cycle that was gifted by Dad, the innumerable times I've fallen back on my brother for guidance and support (boy that was hard to admit!) - I've actually come to take all of you for granted. Thank you always being there for me, through thick and thin .

The wonderful teachers that I've been blessed with, throughout my life, who've served as my mentors and guides. Teachers who would actually cook up aalo-paranthas for all hostelers when they won an inter-class elocution, teachers who'd make you appreciate literature, by reading Enid Blyton, teachers who were completely invested in just making you better people - I don't think we can put a salary on such a job. Highly indebted indeed. Guru Govind dono khade kake lagu paay. Balihari Guru aapki Govind diyo batay - Sant Kabirdas

And if this was not blessing enough, extraordinary friends, strangers I just happened to share the same space to begin with and have come to share the unique bond of trust and affection, and who have become the go-to people for some quality time-pass :). Thanks a lot Semites, Columbans, NSITitans, Microsoftians and fellow Georgia Tech students for making the journey, that much more fun and fulfilling.

Needless to say, whatever shortcomings I demonstrate today, stem from not exactly embodying the ideals that you all have espoused for me, and are thus, due to my own shortcomings. Forgive me for some non-ideal behavior that I might have exhibited :( - I'll try to improve, and with your company, I shall :).

Here's wishing you all, all the very best for the year ahead, and a big THANK YOU for being His embodiment in my life!

The times go by; caught in this busy world,
Carrying out our little tasks you and I,
There shall be times, when we do not meet,
When, for long, each other, we do not greet,
Yet, forever in my thoughts, you will remain,
You are the only thing in life I did gain,
You pushed me when I needed a lift,

Held me back, when you felt I needed restrain,
And gave me love and affection without refrain.
There have been times when I've this fact hid,
But not today - thank you for all the things that you did!


-With love,
Mukul

Straight from the heart

Straight from the heart

Ok, if that's too sensational a title, might I suggest - "Jottings on thoughts that are presently swirling in my mind in matters pertaining to live, love, studies and work?" :). I approach this from a somewhat different setting, writing down things that just flow from me, instead of framing stuff to cater to a more literary inclined audience .

Karmanye vadhikaraste
ma phalesu kadachana

In his discourse to Arjuna, Lord Krishna, mentions this to Arjuna to ease his doubts on the battlefield: You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of action.

I still continue to be amazed how this thought pervades life as we live it, and governs to a large extent the happiness that we experience in it.
Work, studies, love - look back at instances in your life, related to each of these three, that were the source of sleepless nights and bouts of sadness.

The night before the exams, you realize that your preparation is not sufficient. Thoughts of not performing well creep in. If instead, one were to put in the best effort, without pondering on the possible outcomes , it sure will turn out to be better than all odds . 

Extrapolate this, and you notice shades of yoga creeping in here as well - single minded unflinching unwavering concentration on the task at hand - what will it lead to, what next, etc, these are questions that just don't arise. I think yoga flows naturally from the above mentioned philosophy of "karm kar phal ki ichha mat kar".

This is not just applicable to times when you are lagging behind. You are a diligent worker. What drives you? Is it an upcoming promotion, respect of team-mates? Expecting one of these, only to have your dreams fade away, is bound to be the cause of major grief . In-fact any place where you interact with any other human, the only way to avoid grief due to expectations not being met is to undertake, the proverbial Nishkam karma - action without the desire for results, culling the very beast that might bite you back - expectation.


The attitude is also closely related to the pursuit and acquisition of "true" knowledge. There it is, right before you - knowledge. It is not a means to an end. It is not even an end in itself. Its just itself - knowledge. The karma is to acquire it, immerse yourself deeply in understanding it, without concern for how "good" will it make you as a result of you gaining it.


Now, this is where we get tricky, and I'm not sure I have all of what follows figured out in my head.  This is also the portion that, as a Capricorn, I think I should be having the maximum of troubles :P - personal relationships . So these are mostly in the form of questions - swirling thoughts in my head, bubbling around till I have the 'eureka' moment, and see the light:

Detachment from expectations doesn't need to imply an emotional detachment from a person? - I think if one were to just give without any expectation, you are essentially failing to single out a set of persons, who are "special" to you. Can we form bonds of friendship and love in such cases? What is the "spark" if you get what I mean? Does this make us to mechanical? Free from hurt yes - but also deprived of the sheer happiness of seeing your loved one bend down on her knees and propose to you, from the sheer joy of hearing "aaj meri treat" from you friends? The jubilation of when you do get that promotion? The euphoria of when you finally bring home the Nobel?

(Un)Complicated (it)

With you, my friend, I stand,

Atop this hill, overlooking our home-land,

We've been here often before, 

When we were both young, and unsure,

We catch the gently blowing breeze,
And with it, the nostalgic memories.
Of climbing this boulder, and that tree,

Of times when our minds were pure, our spirits free.

The chilly, dry winter wind,

Would carry with it a whiff of sand,

And the suddenly induced bout of sneezes,

Would give way to laughter and teases,

And together we'd sit all day,

And gaze upon what before our eyes lay:

The river meandering through the valley,

Thin plumes of smoke wafting up that alley.

The fragrant autumn winds would drift by,

Brushing gently against our faces, as we'd lie,

Tossing and disheveling our hair,

And together, we'd sit right there,

Regaling each other with anectodes many,

The only stories that I've ever found genuinely funny.

And now we're here again once more,

That idyllic state of mind we should reattain for sure,

Far from the maddening crowd,

Supposedly free from vice and self-doubt,

***

We talk at length,

Insincerely praising each others accomplishments and strengths,

Silently begrudging each other, of a life better spent,

Each finding the other's pastures greener,

Each finding the other's life cleaner.

Alas, for most of us, that's the price we pay,

A toll for the child-hood to adult-hood highway.

But is it wisdom that we gain,

When we happily happiness feign?

When we don this social veneer,

And against our wishes steer?

Grumbling beneath our breath,

Plotting and scheming in distress?

All the while our once innocent minds complain,

Why not un-complicate and be a child again?

V for Vendetta

Wonderfully penned, immaculately directed and beautifully delivered sequence of dialogues in the movie V for Vendetta (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0434409/quotes) =>

V: [Evey pulls out her mace] I can assure you I mean you no harm.
Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation; I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.
V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
[carves "V" into poster on wall]
V: The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
V: [giggles]
V: Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Are you, like, a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking with?
Evey Hammond: I'm Evey.
V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.
Evey Hammond: What does that mean?
V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence. Are you hurt?

Of the heart and its desires

 

Why doth the heart desire,

That which is difficult to pass,

And for what is easy to transpire,

No liking doth the heart hath.