Storm hits the heart.

Criss-cross, criss-cross,
like lovers of yesteryears, strolling across.
An unknown land, unprepared, unplanned,
lost in the moment, hand in hand.
Then destiny rolled the dice,
in seconds, everything fell apart.
You can fix the cracks and the burns,
but how do you fix when a storm hits the heart!


Caught off-guard, near the water,
prejudice attacked, perceived morality ready for slaughter.
A small mistake, a big price; how abruptly virtue became vice!
innocence was lost, slice by slice.
When paradise turns against you,
demanding your depart,
you can't try enough, you can't cry enough,
When a storm hits your heart!

बाहर निकल चल

बंद कमरे में नहीं आती ज़िन्दगी की खुशबू,
चल अलस के मारे मन, बाहर निकल चल.
धूप जला दे न, जब तक तेरे अहम् को,
ये बनावटी चेहरा धूल में न धुत हो जाए जब तक,
हो ना जाए जबतलक, तेरी सोच थोड़ी और तरल.
चल अलस के मारे मन, बाहर ही खेल चल.

Ladakh Day 29 April 2010

My eyes still go back to that panoramic view of having nothing but mountains around, one side with icing, one side without. Mountains playing shadow games with each other; mountains grinning with white teeth, brown gaps in between; mountains with closed fists close to their chest, looking up probably wishing to be higher; mountains looking at you blankly, wondering what the hell you’re doing in their land. There was also this place, viewed best from the monastery in Stanzin's father’s village ‘Matho’, that looks like uprooted from some other planet; I love the alien feel of this place.
So yes, he took me to his father’s village ‘Matho’; known for its different colored soil (he calls it red, but it’s not so :). Kept telling me stories about leh berry, monastery, their kings (who get married to Tibetan, Muslim etc.; liberty at his best), about the new Ladakhi tourist minister who is actually father of a senior from our college, about different trees- poplar, apricot, apple and their uses,  something (dzo) smaller than yak, different villages (Stok, Matho, Stakna etc etc). I think I should be applying greater efforts in remembering the names now, all of them unfamiliar, most of them difficult to get in one time.
They told me about this retirement ceremony (now out of fashion), where everyone the poor retiring person knew, would join him and make him go round Ladakh and celebrate. The real reason Bandey uncle told me was to tell everyone, who shouldn't be trusted with credit now ;). He can be funny at times, he just talks less. He retired 11 yrs back (and yes, was part of the ‘Retirement Jashn’); but still continues to go to SESOL. I went there today, and it’s full of red tomatoes. Difficult to remember their names, and them speaking with their killer cuteness, doesn’t make it any easy for me.
I’m just really in the Ladakhi moment today; no other memories coming to bite me from behind. I have to admit that Stanzin was damn right when he said on the Jaipur trip (years back, when we were still in college); that this is “one place you never regret coming to, but always regret leaving it".
The most beautiful sound of utter silence is back. Wind blowing pass your ears forcing you to open your eyes as wide as possible and you try (that’s the best you could do) to take it all in.
29 April 2010

First Day in Ladakh - 28 april 2010

So I finally reached Ladakh today. Still blooming like an idiot, thinking about the moments my heart froze with wonder while in the sky. There comes a point, when from the clouds, slowly and stealthily, mountains appear, and they keep getting whiter and whiter until they are like giant bodies sleeping under snow blankets. The aged Air India air-hostess found me amusing, I guess. Whenever she’d see me sticking to the window of 21A seat with eyes wide and mesmerized as if of a new-born, she’d give me this smile that I still can’t classify as mocking or sweet. When I got out of the plane, flight IC445, I could almost sense a tear materializing in my eyes overwhelmed by the feeling that I’m in Leh. I kind of, killed it mid-way so that the fellow passengers might not give me ‘the look’. The fellow passengers, for whom the grand welcome by this mountain, with few streaks of white hair, on the regular coiffure of brown strands, was less extra-ordinary than it was for me.
I’ve been advised by the family that I’m staying with to take complete rest today, i.e. I can’t go out. So I’ve been talking, reading, eating but could not keep myself from reminiscing.

I don’t understand what exactly it means to miss someone. I keep getting glimpses of the kids at Umang, Jaipur; especially Sambhav, Yuvraaj, Meera, Yashank, Priyanshu, Ishaan.. so many of them.. I’ve just arrived here in Leh, and I’m imagining how Sambhav will give that disarming smile when he sees me in July, how Yuvraaj will say ‘Dilli chalo’ when I spoil him with love, how Meera would ask for more homework... I am telling you; I think that’s closest to missing someone I could feel and describe.

I should seriously stop listening to these old soft songs. It’s making me weak with memories. Just faces, so many people, friends.. Trivandrum, Jaipur, College, Colony, Pravah; of course Dad, the way he just kills me with his unsaid love and the way he takes care of everything, even when the thankless daughter loiters away.. I’ve always tried to lock memories to deep undergrounds only to be dug in times of urgency or times like these; when I lie with body weight resting on elbows, face resting on the edge of the bedside, eyes resting on the particles of immense beauty outside the window, thoughts resting on the hopelessly romantic songs in the background.  How can happiness fill you with so much heaviness! (Never mind the jump; I guess I’m still recovering from Milan Kundera’s ‘Unbearable lightness of being’).  I’m switching back to tougher music now. I should be better now!
Lights went out, just had another cup of tea with the aunty and chatted about her son Shabir and life here and there. I love her already, she’s incredibly lovely, has this simplicity about her when she talks and a lovely mother-like voice (with of course, Urdu and Ladakhi intonation).
There is an uncomfortable silence in the room, when she leaves and the music is out. If I don’t hold myself back, it seems like I might be sucked away by feelings that I know nothing of.  Where is my tough music, I need a stay on this. Too much reflection makes my head heavy.
Date: 28-04-10

A lot to catch up!!

So, a lot has happened since the last post. Blame it on my innate lethargy; but like a smoker's timeless attempts to quit smoking, I fall back on the track every once in a while. I can't give up writing, even when my lazy fingers almost always convince my distracted mind.

Very briefly, I've been moving around doing things and would be sharing some of the experiences(but not all of it!!)

कब से हुआ ये?

कब से हुआ ये,
 दिल गली के गटर सा हो गया.
 लोग अब दिखते नहीं, उनकी बस कमियां नज़र आती है.
छिल जाती है दिल की तबियत,
जब ख़ुशी सामने से गुज़र के,
पड़ोसी के घर सोने जाती है.
पूछ उसी कमबख्त से,
कब से हुआ ये?

कब से हुआ ये,
समुंदर का शोर सरदर्द करने लगा.
आँखें रूखी रेत सी,
ना टिकती है आसमाँ पर, ना गीली होती है कभी,
 जैसे बर्फ का पहाड़ दिल में घर करने लगा.
एक-दो दिन में तो नहीं बना ये!
पता है, पर नहीं बताऊंगा! कब से हुआ ये!

कब से हुआ ये,
रंगों से नफरत हो गयी.
दीवारों पे भी धब्बे है, मेरी खुन्नस के.
ये सपनों के गुब्बारे लिए,
जो चले आते है आज-कल के लड़के,
फोड़े थे मैंने भी कई अपनी तकदीर के फोड़ों से.
अरे छोड़ो! तुम क्या समझोंगे,
कब से हुआ ये.

An Umang Smile..

There’s a typical November winter chill in the air of Jaipur. My love for public transport (Bus number 220, to be precise) ensures that I experience the full blown impact of it, while reminiscing my past month here in the city. There’s been a surge of people, art, conversations, ideas, discussions; but all of that blurs in front of “Umang”.

Umang, as it defines itself, is an initiative towards rehabilitation of the disabled. For me, initially, it was just my placement organisation for the “Youth for Development” internship by a Delhi-based NGO Pravah. Now, it’s something that gives me a reason to wake up at 06:30 in the morning, a reason that keeps me driven till 01:30 p.m. to put every piece in my heart to see those kids as who they really are sans the veil of disability, a drive that keeps hanging through-out the day and flashes me every now and then about how much there is to be done.

If I start talking about the kids, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’ve been awe-struck so many times by their spirit, inquisitiveness, sensitivity, flamboyance, humor etc. And you can not help but notice that, all you require is the proper environment, a prejudice-free zone and the flowers would bloom. And Umang, is doing that bit, quite well.

But for many others, there’s still a wide gap between their understanding of disability and the truth. According to WHO figures, around 10% of the world’s population or 650 million people live with disabilities of various types. Of them, India accounts for about 21.9 million (Census India, 2001). And, while we are still struggling with various myths surrounding disability, there are a lot of issues to be addressed. There’s a nightmarish dearth of disability friendly places in India. Everything from airports to ATMs, railways stations to movie theatres, restaurants to several institutions, is designed oblivious to the fact that those 10% exist. Then apart from the discrimination they face all through, there’re employment issues. And these are just the broader problems; things just get even darker when you go in details.

I see all that, and then I see the kids at Umang. I see sheer brilliance of some, utter innocence of others. I see the efforts of Umang and of those kids, and I feel bothered. I was warned by Neha a senior from Pravah, Delhi that a box of unknown, unfelt emotions might rush in unnoticed while you work for this internship. Well, she wasn’t really wrong. I still have to figure out the how, why, where, when, but I can’t go out of this internship, without making a difference; especially now, when I’m hopelessly in love with these 180 kids. So, I get out of the bus. I walk like a ghost, lost in my own thoughts and the song “Smile like you mean it” by “The Killers”. The first Umang auto is here, morning smiles and morning hugs and morning chit-chats! My smile couldn’t be more meaningful.