Sunday, June 25, 2017

166. When you stop

Things will not stop
When you stop,
They will run the same
Or may be better
When you stop.

People as good as you
Or may be better
Will rush in to take your place
The moment you stop.

Reason for you to stop
Has to be better
Than your unreal fear
That things will stop
When you stop.

Don't stop if you so wish,
But don't deceive yourself,
Don't overrate yourself,
Things will keep moving
With you or without you,
No one here is indispensable.

Saturday, June 10, 2017

75. In the hills of Kumaon

Kumaon in Uttaranchal is full of natural beauty. People generally flock to Nainital and nearby areas. But if someone is looking for some solace, there are other beautiful areas like Mukteshwar, Jageshwar, Binsar and Kausani which are much less crowded than Nainital, but no less beautiful. These areas are easily accessible. From Kathgodam, the last rail-head, these can be reached in 2 to 4 hours by car and the road condition is fairly good. Apart from buses, shared taxis are also available.

I recently visited these less talked-about gems of Uttaranchal. It was nice walking in hills, sipping hot tea/coffee sitting in the verandah of my guesthouse while it was raining and savouring fruits of the season like plum, apricot and peach. Near Mukteshwar, I found garden after garden of trees laden with these fruits. In Binsar, Rhododendron flowers were in full bloom. I passed by village shops selling Rhododendron and lemon squash bottles. Among sweets, there was delicious Bal Mithai, made of milk which can be found all over Kumaon.

Occasionally, snowy peaks of Himalayas were visible from these places. Watching sunrise and sunset over the hills was a sublime experience.










Sunday, May 14, 2017

183. On abbreviations

Abbreviations are very useful. They save time and space. Now-a-days when we are so busy watching TV, surfing Internet, sending out tweets and posting messages on FaceBook,where is the time to write full version? Twitter has put on us the constraint of characters and helped invent many more abbreviations which we otherwise may not have been able to think of. Necessity is the mother of invention.

Youngsters seem to particularly enjoy abbreviations. Everyday, they come up with new ones, primarily to take revenge on their ever-snooping elders.By the time the slow-learning elders are able to decipher the abbreviations, the youngsters are ready with fresh ammunition. This constant game keeps elders conscious of their limitations and puts them in their place.At this rate, the time may not be far when youngsters will speak a language totally different from that of elders. Then, elders will be speaking English(E) and youngsters English(Y), E and Y meaning Elders and Youngsters.

While some abbreviations sound good and are pleasing to ears even if their meaning is not clear, there is one which I find quite intimidating. On someone's death, everyone writers 'RIP'. Everyone wants to condole, but in abbreviation. Where is the time to write 'Rest in peace'? So many people are dying on social media everyday, we just cannot do without the abbreviation. 

Gone are the days when well-wishers used to make it a point to attend cremations.I can understand the anguish of Rishi Kapoor who recently lambasted young actors who could not find time to attend the funeral of Vinod Khanna. But youngsters have their own ways. 'RIP' on FaceBook or Twitter is good enough for many of them.

I am a bit old-fashioned.When someone writes 'RIP', I feel that my body is being ripped apart. RIP is the reason I am scared of dying.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

2. Music in the Park

Every year, Delhi Government organizes a three-day festival of devotional music in the sprawling Nehru Park in the heart of New Delhi. Today is the last day of the festival. Eminent singers like Shubha Mudgal, Anup Jalota and Satinder Sartaj are part of the event this year. 

I have been visiting the festival for quite a few years now. I was there on the second day yesterday. The park was illuminated and decorated tastefully for the festival. I went a bit early, took a leisurely stroll admiring the beauty of flowers and trees, and when the sun started setting, took my seat among hundreds to listen to the soulful music. Listening to music in the midst of greenery is a heavenly experience.

Every year, the organizers come up with a good mix of well-established singers and not-so-well established ones. I enjoy listening to the latter much more. They are hidden gems whose talent is not so well-known. This year, I immensely enjoyed listening to Sonam Kalra's Sufi renditions. A nice thing about her music is the assimilation of different cultures not just from within the country but even outside. After returning from Nehru Park, I searched for her songs on Youtube and listened to many beautiful numbers. One song that I particularly liked was 'Bol', written by Faiz Ahmed Faiz.

I think, other cities should emulate the example of Delhi.Organizing such festivals will draw people to parks, keep our traditional music alive and entertain audiences, waiting to listen to something fresh.







Sunday, April 16, 2017

165.Happy birds


Two tiny birds,
Perched on a tree
Outside my balcony,
Chirp ceaselessly every morning,
Waking me up from slumber.

Rains cannot dampen their spirit,
Hot sun hardly bothers them,
Now they fly in
Hopping from branch to branch,
Now they fly away.

Two tiny birds
Make so much of music
Day after day,
Leave me wondering
What makes them so happy.

Sunday, April 09, 2017

164.Silence




Somewhere bell is ringing,
Its sound reverberating through air,
Reaching my heart, my being,
Softly touching, slowly awakening...

Memories come flooding to me
Of joyous days gone by
When the bell announced time
To rush home from school,
When it beckoned me to temple,
When it signalled arrival of a train.

No bell rings now,
No sound floats in air,
Silence must replace music now,
I am no longer a child.

Sunday, April 02, 2017

1. Change

This tree in the park of my housing complex was full of flowers a few days back. It looked so beautiful. Today, it has neither flowers nor  leaves. Has it accepted the change? Is it sad? Sometimes, some stray bird flies in and sits on its branch. The tree seems to enjoy the company. Then, the bird flies, leaving it lonely once again. Every morning, the tree watches the walkers in the park and silently waits for the days when leaves will grow on its branches and flowers will bloom.





Saturday, March 18, 2017

163.The Stiff and the Flexible

The older we grow,
The stiffer we become,
The body refuses to bend,
The mind to make way
Until we die one day 
When the body won't budge,
The mind won't work.

We see this every day,
Yet we can't understand
That the stiff dies,
The flexible lives.