The Year It Was (Part 2)

On 31st December of 2010, I was at Hyderabad, atleast for most part of the day. Boy, was it hot there in December! I remember how I yearned to get rid of the sweatshirt I was wearing in anticipation of cold. Anyhow, an educative Panel Discussion (on mentoring and alternate funding opportunities for entrepreneurs) in a state-of-the-art auditorium in an artificial-looking, engineered ISB Hyderabad campus followed by an inspirational story of how Naandi Foundation has made the dream of mid-day meals possible efficiently in South India. All this was part of the Jagriti Yatra 2010.

The dinner was had on the platform. I remember it was a really good, considering the already high standards. Midnight happened in the train. One new year's celebration it was! If someone was watching the train in motion from up above, she would have seen all 12-13 bogies thumping because of people dancing like crazy. We were shouting, screaming, singing, dancing, eatcing cake, and swearing to one another that in the list of crazy new year celebrations, this would always stay on the top.

Dear Blog, Happy Anniversary

It's been roughly three years since I blogged first. One year since Jagriti Yatra.

Both these events in the past remain important turning points in my life.

So, here's to life!

The problem with being different...

...is that you might end up being alone.

Courtesy: Patsy McArthur 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

Let there be light?

"Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho, toh zinda ho tum." - Javed Akhtar's lyrics in Zindagi Naa Milegi Dobara

“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” - Neitzsche's quote in the opening line of The Dirty Picture

The concept of Pain (dard) as a prerequisite for good music as explored in the movie Rockstar.

बगावत

दिल में अजीब सी बेचैनी है, जैसे चिंगारी-सी दहक रही हो.

हाँ, चिंगारी ही है, पर डर है कि ज्वाला न बन जाए.

डर है कि इसी ज्वाला में जलके कहीं मैं राख न हो जाऊं.

आखिर क्या वजह है, पूछता हूँ मैं खुद ही से.

आखिर क्यों हो चली है आग, लपटें सुलगाने को?

पूछता हूँ, पुकारता हूँ, चीखता-चिल्लाता हूँ.

पर कमबख्त चुप है. न जाने, शायद खफ़ा है मुझसे.

अब जो बैठा हूँ तनहाई  में, अमन की आड़ में,

हँसी  छूट जाती है. शायद ख़बर है मुझे,

शायद पता है क्यों बगावत है दिल में.

खुद ही से भाग रहा था, आवाज़ कहाँ सुनाई देती?

दिल तो गला फाड़े रो रहा था, मैंने ही खिड़कियाँ बंद कर रखी थी.

आज खिड़कियाँ खोल दी है मैंने.

पर आज जो खिड़कियाँ खोली है मैंने, ए मालिक.

ज़ालिम, दिल ने ही मूंह फेर लिया है.

Four Years

My amateurish attempt at poetry. Comments and suggestions to improve are more than welcome.

22 things to do in Kashmir

1) Stay in a houseboat with Persian interiors for a day in Srinagar

2) Row yourself in a Shikara on the Dal Lake around sunset

Being Human

The following is an essay I wrote as an assignment for a course on Writing that I am pursuing as a part of the Young India Fellowship. The essay builds on to the ideas explored in "On Compassion" (Barbara Ascher) and "The Death of the Moth" (Virginia Woolf). Read along even if you haven't read these essays.