Wednesday, August 03, 2005

His Perspective

Every morning i wake up before the sun rises. I see the sun rise from my window with my blurred vision. I hear people getting up in the house and moving about, brushing their teeth, cooking breakfast, sweeping floor. Then my wife comes and helps me to sit up and drink water. My son comes and helps me with morning chores.

I am taken on the wheelchair to the breakfast table and i try to eat with my unsteady hands. My son ties a bib around my neck to prevent my clothes getting spoilt. I am wheeled back to the bed where i lie down till lunch time listening to my grandchild play with my wife. I hear his voice, his laughter. Once in a while he come to my room and like always i try to extend my hand for him to hold. But before he can notice the hand moving, he runs away to play some other game.

Once again i am wheeled to dining table and i eat lunch. My wife sits by my bed and talks to me about everything that is happening around. I have stopped replying as no word i speak is clear enough to understand. I like her sitting with me for 1 hour. I catch some sleep.

My son comes back from office in the evening and sits and chats with his mother and wife. He always comes and spends some time with me. I see him and remember the days when he used to come to me for guidance.

I mostly try to skip dinner but the family ensures that i eat atleast something.

I was an IAS officer. I always kept my head high and feet on ground. I did good to many people without expecting rewards. I was respected. I was honored by the government of India. People were told to follow my example. And here i am now. A grand old man who cant even visit the loo himself. Who cant even say two comprehensible words.

Everyone cares for me no doubt but then all i have become is a burden. A burden that my family is carrying without any grudge, perhaps they dont mind it at all. But then i am a burden on myself.

Death would be better. Atleast i wont have to see each part of me, each belief of mine dying every passing minute.

Death would certainly had been better.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

The Occasional Breaks

The feel of cool monsoon breeze on face, sitting by a river...all alone...watching the water flow in front of hills...listening to bicycles going past...birds chirping...feeling the silence...feeling the peace...smiling and then getting up to go back to the humdrum of life.

Or, watching the rain from the window of top floor room...deciding to get drenched...climbing on to the terrace..and then on the water tanks...and then to the highest point of the building...watching empty green football field while getting soaked in water...closing the eyes, spreading hands and standing against the wind...breathing the fresh air...singing favorite songs...for half an hour.

Or, Lying on the four feet wide boundry wall of terrace at 2AM...staring at the star studded sky...spotting shooting stars and not making any wishes...watching the sky light up in bright orange due to slag dump of nearby factory...noticing sounds of different kinds of music playing at the same time in the hostel...calling up friends and catching up while the clouds move across the moon...and getting up after a while to catch few hours of sleep in the room.

I'm Loving It!

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Things i just told myself

1. Learn to enjoy all by yourself

2. Learn to love yourself

3. Hold self in high esteem

4. Let not others drive you

5. Let not yourself drive others

6. Smile - Get back that constant smile.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Bahadur Shah Zafar's Poem

Bahadur Shah Zafar II was the last Mughal Emperor who was defeated by the british in the 1857 rebellion and was exiled to Rangoon. He died a broken man in Rangoon in 1862.

The following poem was written by Bahadur Shah Zafar as his epitaph.

In Urdu
Lagataa nahiin hai jii meraa uja.De dayaar mein
Kis kii banii hai aalam-e-naa-paayedaar mein

Kah do in hasaraton se kahiin aur jaa basen
Itanii jagah kahaan hai dil-e-daaGadaar mein

Umr-e-daraaz maang ke laaye the chaar din
Do aarazU mein kaT gaye do intazaar mein

Hai kitana badanasiib Zafar dafn ke liye
Do gaz zamiin bhii na milii kU-e-yaar mein


English Translation
My heart is not happy in this despoiled land
Who has ever felt fulfilled in this transient world

Tell these emotions to go dwell elsewhere
Where is there space for them in this bismirched (bloodied) heart

I had requested for a long life a life of four days
Two passed by in pining, and two in waiting.

Of what what bad fate is Zafar! For burial
Even two yards of land were not to be had, in the land (of the) beloved

Friday, April 29, 2005

A Life Less Travelled

Thousands of disconnected lives move on simultaneously. Every person who we pass by has such a huge story to himself...so many joys...so many sorrows...so many broken relationships...so many pleasent memories. In our own humdrum of life we forget to stop once in a while and look around us...look at the sheer diversity of people..of thoughts...of emotions. With every person we fail to notice in the walk of our life, we miss out on godknows what....perhaps a beautiful relationship...a great friend...a teacher..who knows. Sometimes it feels we have such a narrow outlook towards life...we need to open up to each other...it can only be good. It always is going to be a life less travelled..but lets atleast cover a few extra miles..never know what we may discover...:-) .

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Life is not always fair

Chanced upon this letter written by a grandad to his garnd-daughter...

Dear Patricia,

Life is not always fair. Often times it has the wires crossed and blows a fuse, and gives you a shock you will never forget. If that happens to you the best you can do is to pick yourself up and put another fuse in the socket and strive for better things and a better outlook on life. When you do that you will be stronger for it and much better to cope with the game of life.

As Ever,Grandpa Jack

Well said grandpa! :-)

Friday, March 25, 2005

The Good Old Days

...when i used to play gallery with friends under the mango tree in front of my house. When i used to spend hours gazing at stars during powercuts in summers. The night walks with my buddy discussing everything and anything under the sun. Playing cricket from 4PM to 8PM. Non stop. Cycling beyond the limits precribed by parents. Eating 5 chewing gums at a time. And later sticking it on teachers desk. Bringing dead cockroaches to class and scaring girls and teachers. Begging for that one extra mark to pass mathematics. Writing songs on school desks. Waiting at bus station with friends and eating others ice creams. Playing trump cards with friends sitting on my good ol fiat. Sending entries to suprehit muqabla. Watching jungle book on sundays. Eating hot pakodas prepared my mom on rainy days. Watering plants in the kitchen garden and getting wet in the process. Lying in the sun on winter days trying to study and falling asleep. Playing holi with mud and celebrating diwali for hours...

The good old days. :)