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.

RIP

"Oye, it's ringinig!", said KA.

"Hello. Hello? HELLO!"

The change of tone from a calm and composed hello to a sense of urgency told me that there was no response from the other end of the line. The call gets disconnected. She dials again.

"Switched off."

That was the end of whatever little hope had remained. My Samsung Wave I was now a history. The sleek metal body had quietly slipped out of my pant pocket. The rickshaw driver had just won himself a 15k phone. I hope he sells it and utilizes the cash. As for me, bye bye smartphone. RIP.

PS: Thank you KA, for the Tropicana!