|
A Herculean Feat
|
"Taking the help of wealth,
A king has mocked at the love of the poor,
O my beloved! Let us meet elsewhere."
- Sahir of 'the Taj'
The romance of the Taj is known and admired
But who has heard of the silent tribute
Of an unknown common man
Whose back-breaking labor of love,
For months and years unending,
Chipping the rocks day in and day out,
Just to convert one and a half foot wide craggy pass
Into a sixteen foot wide and hundred foot long
Pathway through hilly terrain somewhere in Gaya'
Simply because his dear wife had tripped
Over the spiky pass and was hurt.
He determined to hack a track single handed
Without expecting a reward or help
He hammered the rock incessantly,
Sending the pieces of flint flying all around
Till the rocks yielded to
The steely spirit of the little man
Who unmindful of the sun and rain
Pursued his mission for quarter of a century
Until he succeeded. But alas!
In the course of years his dear wife
Unmindful of his unflinching devotion,
Quietly passed into eternal sleep.
But our hero remained steadfast
And continued to work on his dream.
Though his wife was no more
He was keen to dedicate the road to her.
His equal concern for fellow commuters
Who often had to make a long detour,
Egged him on to complete his arduous task.
Keeping the boredom, the tired limbs,
Loneliness and frustrations at bay.
He turned his dream of making a road
Into a reality for all to see.
The Greek myth of Herculese, a demi-god,
Who separated the two continents,
Europe and Africa, by the sheer power of his hands,
And created the gateway, the strait of Gibraltar,
To reach new horizons by entering the Atlantic.
Than that of the builder of the Taj.
His was truly a Herculean feat.
BACK
|
A View From My Balcony
|
Standing on my balcony eastward I look.
The sky is covered with a vast gray sheet,
It's raining hard and the wind is strong,
Making the eucalyptus trees, standing in a row,
Towering over the gulmohars and a lone
Palm tree, dance in glee
In perfect freedom but in harmony
And in tune with the pattering rain.
There over a stretch of land,
Happily free from the concrete jungle,
Those monsters that raise their heads everywhere,
There rise along a line, ashoka trees,
Interspersed with mango, jamun, peepul and neem,
Trees decked in rich foliage,
Welcome the rain, moving gently with the wind,
Like an elephant walking in all its majesty.
The scene provides a good feast to the eyes.
The downpour continues and Indra occasionally
Sends his thunderbolts,
Not to frighten the dwellers of the earth
But in appreciation of the celebrations by nature
And all the creatures of the earth.
A number of pigeons that dwell in my house
Stirred out to enjoy a shower bath flying or sitting
While other stray birds flitted about.
And the wind hissed and the rain pelted.
All this gladdened my heart as I reflected:
How Nature is always alive with romance
Which fills us with zest and keeps boredom away.
BACK
For thousands of years of our civilization
The seers and teachers have been preaching
The existence and the purity of soul
And hold that all life is mortal
But insist that the soul is immortal.
My humble mind is sadly in doubt,
With little hope of a clear answer.
The question crops up again and again:
What is the 'Soul' after all?
'It is the spirit, the very image of God'.
Soul is the ethereal, something that keeps
The heart throbbing.
The moment it deserts a body, death overtakes it.'
They may say what they like
But the definition leaves us no wiser.
One thing is clear that the soul needs
A physical form to dwell in.
The Egyptians believed that on one's death
The soul goes wandering and some day
Would return in the same body
Lying buried as a mummy in a tomb.
The Hindus believe that the soul
Discards one form that dies and enters
Another that comes into being.
Just as one changes old clothes for new ones.
Thus, through a cycle of birth and death
The soul lives on ad infinitum.
Buddhists seek 'Nirvan' from this cycle,
Christians and Muslims await the Day of Judgment.
So, in one way or the other
They all accept that the soul is immortal.
All the masters have spoken of heaven and hell,
Of ecstasy and gloom, of reward and punishment
That is in store for us in the world we tread upon.
Breath-takingly beautiful is the earth,
There is the bliss of love of the young maid,
Of child, of mother and of the company of others.
The joy of success and the vicarious pleasure
In the service of the fellow men in need.
There is also the pain of defeat and suffering
From disease, squalor, poverty and death.
There are creatures and insects that feed us or feed upon us.
In this world there is much to be elated.
Counter balanced by much that depresses.
Let us face life with equanimity.
Nature has endowed the world
Both, with positive and negative forces,
Good and bad are perfectly balanced.
Nature sustains as well as destroys.
It is for ever striving to maintain harmony,
Not to allow the scale to tilt either way.
3-10-2000
BACK
All the morals stem from the society we live in.
Actions that add to the well being of the community,
Thoughts that enrich human race,
Deeds that bind fellow men
Are deemed noble and worthy.
They add to the happiness of mankind
And impart meaning to life, make it worth living.
Good and bad do not exist in a vacuum.
They are in themselves nothing.
You wander in a jungle or live in a cave,
Cut off from society, a virtual recluse, a waif,
You live by instinct and physical needs,
Free from any pangs of conscience.
There is none to pronounce judgment on you.
Only while living in an organized community,
Good and bad, just and unjust,
Kindness and cruelty step into your awareness.
A pre-historic man was a part of his environment.
He needed no commandments
Save what nature had instilled in him.
His need was only to survive and to perpetuate.
All laws, religious and social, come later.
The rise of civilization inevitably widens
The gap between man and nature.
BACK
Relentless suffering makes it easy to bear
In our present day India corruption
Has seeped so deep into the fabric of our life
That it has become just a way of life.
You cannot move a step without bribery,
Whether it is electricity or water connection,
A telephone or a request for a license,
You must grease the palms of the official
High or low, all are chips of a block.
All talk of morality is ludicrous,
Faced with the problem of redressal,
When driven against the wall,
When the question of life and death
Stares you in the face,
You are a nobody and all doors are closed.
The powerful law-enforcing machinery,
Your representatives, ministers, M.Ps and M.L.A's
Are hell-bent on serving you.
That's another matter how they serve.
No laws are made for them,
No restraint or restrictions are imposed on them.
For that there are the defenseless and mute
Common people whether rural or urban.
For law makers wealth in the form of perks and facilities
Is all there and frequently increased.
If they belong to some mafia
That is part of the service to their party.
If they commit a crime or cause a scam
People implicate them but wrongly
Because, like Caesar's wife,
They can do no wrong.
In our country they are the chosen ones.
They are there to redeem their promises to the people
For the benefit of the under privileged.
And they cant be punished
Numerous scams re reported in the press,
They make exciting reading and no more.
If you mint millions illegally and are found out.
The scandal needs to be hushed,
As everyone knows
Honesty is the best policy to be preached
And not to be practiced by the powerful.
Once the British slogan was 'Join the navy
And see the world'. Our Indian mantra is,
'Get elected and enjoy the feast of life
At public expense.'
Other slogans get stale
But this one, it seems, is ever green.
BACK
Among the teeming species of life
No two things are the same.
Each unit has its own identity.
We can have the closest of relations,
Share the thoughts and emotions of each other,
Yet we can't merge and lose our separate existence.
Whenever someone attracts us with power divine,
Our hearts throb and mind gravitates to the magnet,
Little realizing that each person
Has his own orbit beyond which mind can not stretch.
No one can step out of one's destined course.
We may shake hands, have a tete-a-tete,
We may whisper to each other
And even enjoy a blissful kiss,
We can knock at the door
And hear the deep sighing of the mate
But fusion shall remain only a dream.
We must respect the space allotted to each one.
Then alone happy relationship is possible.
Else the two objects will bang against each other.
The more a person understands the other
The greater will be the harmony between them.
Every man's thoughts and emotions
At some point of time shy off
The sentiments, desires and tastes of the other
It makes human relationship very delicate.
Unless we acknowledge uniqueness of every individual
Who always cherishes a small world of his own
To which he can retire at will, undisturbed.
Suspicious hearts can not unite
It is bound so sour the very basis of the bond,
Even among the best of pals.
Near fusion is possible only with
Complete faith and trust in each other.
BACK
The union of male and female in all species
Is the condition for the perpetuation of life on earth.
Mostly the pairs, vertebrates or invertebrates live in harmony.
Only human beings are prone to find fault.
Perhaps it is the result of our civilization.
The homo sapiens, whether a jungle man
Or a cave dweller, never had time to quarrel,
But with the rise of civilization complications arose.
And the children of Adam and Eve
Beguile their leisure by accusing each other.
As man grew conscious of his physical superiority,
He tried to subdue his mate to his whims.
With the least show of will the woman had to pay a price.
The gender consciousness grew apace, and
In most civilizations women were exploited.
Whatever different religions or governments might say,
In effect women were treated more like chattel.
But throughout history women have shown
That they are no less capable than men.
In grit, intelligence, technical skill and heroism
And in all those traits which men are proud of.
As they had little opportunity to develop their personality,
Examples of remarkable women are very scant.
But are enough to convince us of their merits,
In courage and the quality of leadership.
There have been the likes of Joan of Arc,
Chand Bibi, Rani Laxmi Bai and Begum Hazrat Mahal.
Bachendri Pal scaled the Everest by sheer grit and
Treshkova was the first woman to go into space.
As rulers the names of Elizabeth I and Catherine the Great
Can hold their heads high against any emperor.
As modern rulers Margaret Thatcher, Indra Gandhi
And Srilmavo Bhandarnaike were stateswomen of renown.
In the field of science Madame Curie outshines
All others for winning Nobel Prize twice.
As writers Jane Austin, E. Bronte and Arundhati Roy hold forte
Then who can forget Miss Beecher Stowe
Who stirred the conscience of America against slavery.
Among revolutionaries the names of Kalpana Joshi
And Aruna Asif Ali come to mind
Who faced the wrath of British Imperialism.
Mother Teresa and Aung San Su Kyi each won Nobel Peace Prize.
Now with more opportunities women are coming to their own.
So in a civilized world gender discrimination must go.
BACK
Journeying along a long winding road
I came across a dead body of a deer,
Half devoured by vultures, lay exposed
A few paces from the edge of the road.
The sight disturbed me but I kept on going,
My destination was still a long way.
I had covered barely a few hundred yards
When suddenly a frog leapt
And came under my boot before I could react.
I removed my foot and saw the poor thing
Completely crushed, all life had fled.
I winced a bit but continued on my course.
The two gory sights lingered on in my mind.
The thought of life, its spirited activity,
Its brief sojourn on earth and flight to nowhere.
The questions of rebirth and transmigration of soul
Began to pester my mind, questions
That had no answer.
All religions hold the soul to be immortal.
(I have my doubts)
Hindus believe that when one dies
The soul enters some other body.
After a succession of births
In thousands of different species,
If the actions of these species are free of sins
Then finally the soul enters the human form.
By this logic the world is growing free of sins.
As human population grows inexorably
-Though they die, sometimes in heaps,
Of hunger, disease and strife-
Devouring rapidly all forest cover
Usurping the habitats of wild life.
Not content with this and in pursuit
Of higher and higher standard of living
Man is rapidly depleting ozone layer
And destroying the environment
The life giving rivers are polluted
And even the oceans are not spared.
As a result of his nefarious activities
There is global warming
The earth is ruthlessly depleted of its resources
Which unless man wakes up
Will make the earth his graveyard
In not too distant a future.
We are creating a death trap around us.
Unless we make all efforts to stem the rot
Mankind is heading for mass hara-kiri.
Perhaps the soul is nothing but atoms
All else is sheer speculation.
Dust unto dust life doth return.
13-4-2000
BACK
Like all life, man is subject to decay,
May be.
But I am no ordinary being,
That bubbling stream of energy,
Spring tide of all life,
That walks past Time,
Ever watchful of its menacing grip,
I am Youth that'll endure
And never grow old.
Ernest, Brown and Jones may die,
Tom, Dick and Harry may die,
My mind is full of dreams and hope,
And eternal curiosity besides.
I defy death, I never die.
Call me a concept
Untouched by the march of Time,
Billions of years have rolled by,
But my youth lives on.
A bird of freedom, a cataract of crystal flow,
Full of thrills and laughter,
For ever running its wayward course,
The supreme darling of this world and the gods,
I never die, Oh! I never die.
BACK
Mind is restless and the limbs are lay,
The desire to act is keen but the aim elusive.
Stray thoughts criss-cross without any order,
But these rumblings are keen to surface.
The consciousness is at a loss how to start
And bring to light the numerous ideas
That lie buried in the deep layers of imagery.
How mysterious it is that out of a welter of ideas,
A poem, a painting or an innovative thought emerges
Which is coherent, forceful and enduring.
What chemistry, what combination of atoms
Gives life to the throbbings in the brain
That have resulted in numerous timeless creations.
Besides bestowing enormous power in the hands of man.
Which distinguish him from all other creatures.
No wonder Man is a creator next only to God.
7-07-2001
BACK
The sun was down, the sky all afire
The weather was fine and the wind cool,
My mood was nostalgic, lost in reverie,
Unaware, I found myself sliding down
The corridors of Time long past
Where my life's journey flew past me.
I was slipping down from old age
To youth and boyhood days
Right up to the early childhood.
Numerous faces, sights and incidents
Of great import or of no consequence
Rushed by as does the world outside
Seen from the window of a hurtling train.
There was as toddler groping along,
Making fuss over small things.
Little fears and joys filled the days,
Only to fade away like the colorful
Chameleon figures and shades on the horizon.
The adolescent years encompassed
A wide world of enchanting nature
Where friends and strangers flit across
The moving screen of my unique studio.
All the world is a stage, no doubt,
But within us also there is a huge
Revolving arena in which we play
And replay the scenes of our lives
That lie curled up in our memory.
Past hardships appear like heady wine,
Joyous moments make us break into a smile.
Memories of intense love or frustrations
Well up from the deep recesses of the heart
Cataclysmic events that shook the world -
Horrors of the Second World War,
Independence and the holocaust of Partition,
The struggle of the country to stand
On its own among the comity of nations,
The glorious days of Panch Sheel,
The shock and shame of defeat
At the hands of a friend whose cause
India spoused for years in the United Nations,
Scientific achievements and industrialization,
Border wars and the insurgency within,
Unprecedented population explosion that negates all progress,
Spiraling prices and spiraling corruption,
Feuding parties and the malaise of disunity,
The bane of India through the millennium.
I was jolted awake to the depressing present
And the question formed on my silent lips:
O God! Is there no way to pull India
Out of the morass of dishonesty, distrust and disunity
And to launch her ship on the road to prosperity?
BACK
For years I have been saying `I love India'.
But now when I look around and reflect
`What is there to be proud of, to be loved'?
No doubt she has the mighty Himalayas,
Majestic rivers, rich flora and fauna,
Three seas wash her extensive shores,
She can well boast of a hoary past,
Immensely rich in literature and arts.
Home to a vast variety of people and languages,
All these compel us to adore our motherland.
But taking stock of the present state
We feel utterly depressed.
Her rivers Ganga and Yamuna et al.
Are polluted beyond redemption.
Her hills, plains are denuded of greenery.
Above all, this land of great sages
Has lost all sense of nobility of character,
We grovel in poverty, corruption, falsehood,
Even most heinous crimes do not stir us,
Murder, rape, unethical ambitions
Have become the hallmarks of our society.
A climate of laziness, cheap entertainment,
Avoidance of serious thought on persistent problems,
Shirking of responsibility amidst multiplying crises
Are plunging this beauteous country
Into degradation growing by the day.
I pray to thee, O God! save our motherland
From her pathetic state of unthinkable degradation
Let a million flowers bloom in her fields
And a thousand thoughts broaden her horizon.
Why pray to God? Gird up your loins,
O my countrymen!
Let us one and all sink our differences,
See the writing on the wall and unite
Fight the challenges of the present
With a clear vision of the future
March ahead boldly without fear.
Take the day to day problems in your stride,
Like Tenzing and Hillary, go on determined,
Till you stand tall over the Everest against
Gusty winds and biting snow.
The world will then acknowledge your guts
And salute the achievers with nerves of steel
Who would lead the country to new heights
And hold a beacon to the whole world.
Then with joyous faces, young and old alike
Will sing in chorus 'We love India'.
BACK
I
Richly flows, on Earth, the current of life
In an unbroken line ever since it appeared
From micro organisms, from micro organisms, from bacillus
To dinosaurs, to whales, in millions of years
They have emerged in a vast variety
Of species, too numerous to count.
Nature is too liberal in its creation,
Experimenting with new breeds.
Ever ready to discord and destroy
What can not sustain on its own
They must live, for ever in danger of extinction.
There is perpetual struggle for survival
Among all things that dwell on this planet.
It is their cunning that helps them to survive.
Nature creates life, for the fun of it.
We, the homo sapiens worry no end
In seeking the meaning of life.
But forget all the while
There is a joy, inherent, in being alive
We may be unaware, the gift of life is priceless
No matter what suffering one undergoes.
Every living creature ties to ward off
That threatens to sniff it out.
All suffering, physical, emotional or mental,
However intense or unbearable it might be,
The moment the scepter of death stares us
We battle desperately for dear life.
Even if we are unaware of the inherent joy in living.
The moment the lamp of life is threatened
We abhor death and cling to life
However long or short the span might be.
II
A recent wonder has come to light
That shows how tenaciously life defiles death.
Dormant micro organisms lying frozen
In salt crystals buried deep in earth
In a radio active waste dump in New Mexico,
Were discovered during drilling operations
They lay there in deep slumber for ages.
Older than the dinosaurs of Jurassic period
By no less than seventy million years.
After putting these crystals to rigorous lab tests
Scientists have succeeded in rousing these organisms
From there hibernation that lasted for a eons.
These microbes are now alive and kicking.
They are the oldest known living organisms on earth.
BACK
|
The Moment of Truth
|
I live in a hall on the top of a hillock,
A circular room with windows all around.
The sun in all its splendor is ready to set,
The western sky is all awash with brilliant hues.
I watch this glorious vista from one window.
The next offers a different view.
There lies a pine forest waving in the breeze,
Playing hide and seek with thin clouds of mist,
At a distance snow covered peaks glisten
Beckoning the adventurous to scale the heights.
I move on to the third window.
In front lies a vale, gay with wild flowers,
Where colorful birds merrily flit about,
Antelopes, hare, foxes and even a bear can be sighted
Drinking water from a limpid stream.
The fourth window presents an uninterrupted view.
A placid sea stretches as far as eye can see,
Reaching up to the horizon where the sky
And the sea lie in indistinguishable embrace
As the red sun dips into the shimmering waters.
I turn to peep out of the next window.
But soon darkness spreads its wings wide
And the sky is illuminated by myriad lamps.
The sights of the day are covered with a blanket.
Only the stars blink and the earth heaves
The varied scenes pose a persistent question to me:
Did the windows present a veracious picture?
Is Truth a many splendoured thing?
That one can view only a small part of it?
I shudder to state the misgiving of my heart.
There is only one Truth and no Falsehood.
Just as there is only light and no darkness,
Only heat and no cold.
A perfect realization of the 'part'
Reveals the 'whole.
The moment of truth is
When the finite and the infinite hold communion.
BACK
|
The Moon
|
Rocks, dust, bleak mountains and craters
All pock-marked, devoid of any trace
Of soothing visions of green trees or flowing rivers,
Even the hissing sound of wind is missing.
Such is the naked face of the 'lovely' moon.
But viewed from the earth its enchantment
Remains unsurpassed through countless millennia.
The goddess of the skies rules the seas,
It waxes and wanes, drawing the very heart
Of the mighty oceans who in their torment thrust
Their bosom high to reach the distant moon.
But all the panting and sighing of the turbulent seas,
Its ebb and flow ceaseless since time immemorial
Cuts no ice with the celestial enchantress,
What, if it can boast of only reflected glory.
Its mood changes every moment,
No Helen or Cleopatra could match
Either its peerless majesty or changing moods
As it shines in lone splendor
Shedding its magic light in ever shifting measure.
With dark or wafer-thin clouds that float
And often girdle her in a prismatic hallow
While she runs and frolics with them,
As they move dancing all the way.
And Diana weaves a spell over the earth
Where the youth drunk with the opiate
Of her beams, wander in a world of dreams.
In many ways she emulates the life of man.
Like a neonate it emerges in the firmament,
Then grows apace night after night
And with ever growing intensity lures the world
Till its full face binds the earth in a spell.
Only to withdraw itself gradually from the view,
As we humans, in due time, sink into oblivion.
BACK
|
Time Is Ruthless
|
After an absence of many years
I retured to my native town,
Full of high spirits and eager steps,
Longing to see old dear faces
And loved spots of childhood.
But alas! The march of years,
Like a river in flood,
Had carried away in its swift current
The invisible ties and emotional bonds.
The people were there but mere strangers.
Familiar faces had lost their familiarity.
Their lingered only cold curiosity
And no stirring of the hearts.
The houses, the lanes, the trees
Had all changed their identity.
In my heart there was remorse and sorrow,
Had I not stayed away for so long,
Spared of all disappointment,
I could relive, without a break,
The past and the present with undimmed joy.
And would never have felt the shock
Of being a stranger in my own native land.
Time may be the best healer
But it is also ruthless and never looks back
At what ravages and scars it leaves behind.
Affecting one and all without exception.
BACK