The Forces

The universe, they said, depended for its operation on the balance of four forces which they identified as charm, persuasion, uncertainty and bloody-mindedness.

It comes to me as no surprise that I find myself as an amalgam of all these four. Interesting is the fact that I am far from balanced. It is, however, just a matter of time before I attain the balance and reach the equilibrium. Till then, I would enjoy the dominant force inside me---bloody-mindedness, that is. And the world will have to deal with me. There is no hiding back....

It is often quoted that a man is known by the kind of friends and foes he has had, though I brutally discard any such clichéd proposition. Nevertheless, roll your sight on the things people have said over the stretch of time about yours truly and decide the sanctity of my character on your own. Sounds fair, doesn’t it? Of course, it does! After all, it is my character and not yours that is being put on test.

“The next time you stealthily pick money out from my purse without permission, you will be kicked out of the house”---No prizes for guessing why my mother was annoyed!!

“I won’t give up and I will request you not to give up as well. Just persist and let us hope we last longer than our lives. It is one of those very few aimless quests in my life”---a friend when I asked him to stop asking me the question that he continues to seek answer of for last four years. It seems that we come from a place where men take pride in being stubborn.

“I am betting 100 bucks on you. You know how much I despise losing . You won’t let me lose, will you?”---a friend who seems to have too much faith in me.

“Your right eye is a touch smaller than the left one. Somehow it appears so only from a small distance”---What the heck was she doing so close to my eyes??

“You think of giving up on me and I put a bullet in you head”---a friend when I told that I was good at driving people away. Incidentally, I didn’t know my friends kept guns with themselves. I had to reconsider who drove whom away.

“You are, if anything, a zombie. You walk as if there is no one around. Your talk with the least of warmth. You look as if you have not been served food for decades. Can you recall the last time you acted like a normal human being?”—a friend who, I guess, had a really bad day and needed someone to bring all his frustrations out upon. Guess who he bumped on!

“I like you for not what you are but in spite of what you are”---a friend who seemed desperate to let me know about my unsung qualities. I wondered for a week if what he said could be taken as a compliment. In the end, I decided otherwise.

“Your language is as bitter as gourd and it hurts as deep as sea”---oops, someone doesn’t wish to let even a single chance of framing similes go by.

“Your behavior scares me. Your attempts at achieving numbness is dreadful. Believe it or not, your conduct is unsocial. Don’t be such a loner. You are missing great fun in life”---a friend who didn’t look impressed by me. Am I really that scary?

“You surely know how to put your foot in your mouth”---a friend when I happened to screw myself up again. Yet again.

“I think I am in love with you”---someone who I hadn’t talked to even once and that ended up being the only talk we two had ever had. I always thought proposal was the most difficult thing to do and there she was, proving me wrong all the way.

“I would have chosen you if it weren’t for every other human being on the earth”---someone who was looking for a partner. Frank and pure. I loved that.

Alphabets

Alphabets		Word(s)	Remark
A		Abhieshek	My identification "mark"
B		Beauty	A thing of beauty is joy for ever
C		Cricket	A passion since childhood
D		Death	A necessary evil
E		English	The language that connects (most) modern-day civilizations
F		Fuck	A word for all seasons
G		God	This one needs no explanation
H		Howard Roark	The perfect man
I		I	My favorite word
J		John McEnroe	Who says temper leads to failure?
K		Knowledge	The quest for knowledge is on
L		Life	The most underrated gift
M		Money	A very powerful tool
N		No	Rejection and disagreement construct new paths, open new windows, unearth new possibilities.
O		Optimism	For hope is the prop of life
P		Philosophy	Provides an answer to every question
Q		Question	Questioning every idea is after all not such a bad idea
R		Religion	An unremovable cog in the human wheel
S		Sachin Tendulkar	An artist who pleases a billion hearts
T		Time	It's the only companion that stays with us from our first breathes till the very last ones
U		Unique	That's what each one of us is
V		Vengeance	"Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord"---Divine words!!
W		Why and Why Not	There come the questions again!
X		X	It denotes every unknown, every unidentified, every nameless
Y		Youth	The best period of life
Z		Zion	The ideal place

The Timeline

1984 : Stepped on some strange planet called the earth. I experienced desperation. “This place is oversubscribed.”

1989 : Deliberately pushed my younger brother from some height. He happened to break one of his bones. I experienced elation. “As per my expectations, bones are indeed not strong.”

1990 : Threw a brick at my mate’s face. His evasive actions took some time and his skull spilled some deep red liquid. I experienced composure. “Even the skulls are not strong!”

1990 : Got drowned in deep water in an attempt to gauge its depth. I experienced apathy. “Water riding into the lungs doesn’t spare room for anything. Not even for hope.”

1992 : Got introduced to porn. I experienced excitement. “That was one heck of a discovery.”

1997 : Kissed a girl for the first time. I experienced disappointment. “Expectations don’t help the cause.”

1998 : Modified the contents of checked examination papers and conned the teachers into awarding me brownie marks. I experienced deception. “Conning a man is after all not such a difficult job.”

2002 : Fought for a disloyal man. I experienced betrayal. “The species that is the biggest threat to the existence of mankind is man himself.”

2002 : Arranged a bitter quarrel between two lovebirds. I experienced bloody-mindedness. “A combination of wicked intention and stealth action can produce vicious results.”

2002 : Spent three consecutive days without food under arguably unavoidable circumstances. I experienced satisfaction. “Can that be called developing appetite for hunger?”

2003 : Entered IIT. I experienced despondence. “Journey is a few million times more fun than destination.”

2005 : Spent a couple of months in countryside England. I experienced independence. “An independent mind is the reservoir of unprecedented success.”

2006 : Spent a couple of months in a cauldron-like environment in a steel plant. I experienced strength. “Watching liquid iron flow makes one realize the power of man.”

2006 : Read The Fountainhead. I experienced peace. “A man is only as productive as he allows himself to be.”

2007 : Attained tranquility. I experienced salvation. “Peace is what we seek; effort is what we lack.”

The Book

When I was a kid---13-odd years old-- I found a book in a forgotten corner of my home. It had a thick film of dust planted in its hardbound cover and the pages had adopted a tinge of pale yellowness. The book looked old by all means and I gathered that no one had turned its pages for a long time. The book was voluminous and so it dented whatever desire I had to read it. Nevertheless, I took a look into its pages. There were innumerable phrases of virtue in it written in a very soothing manner. The book was a modern English translation of some another popular book that was written in ancient English centuries ago. Though I can’t recall the exact words that I laid my eyes upon, one of those phrases read something like this:

The only way a man can be perpetually happy is by not handing over all the sources of his happiness to others.

I liked what I read and I have always tried to follow those providential words very passionately since then. I do concede that I have failed miserably few times while translating those words into action but the number of times I have succeeded ridiculously outnumbers those when I have conked out. By the way, when I got rid of dust that veiled the face of the book, it read “The Bible”.

The Hitch

The stage was set. People wished to know who that guy was. Everybody was willing to get a glimpse of that charming individual. After the monologue describing all the wonderful qualities that I possess, the announcer spoke--"Ladies and gentlemen, let me take the honor of presenting in front of you, the one and only----"
A pause. The kind of pause that adds to the excitement; one that bewilders the audience. You along with the entire audience held back in anticipation of hearing that divine name. I could see fervor in your eyes and smile on your face from the backstage. I prepared myself to leave the background and allow the soothing limelight to drown me. I knew it was time for me to be spotted and eventually applauded. Amidst all this exhilaration, I heard the announcer speaking--"Oops, I forgot his name."

Collage of Memories

Baat zara purani si hai. takriban 22 saal pehle bihar ke ek chhote se kasbe mein paida hue. thode bade hue to maa baap ne school mein dakhila karwane ka socha. kasbe mein school ki kami thi. fir bhi maa baap ne koi kasar na chhodi. jald hi humne khud ko ek school mein paya. aalam to yeh tha ki school ka bhi woh pehla hi baras tha, woh bhi kiraaye ke makaan mein. dono naye. dono ek dusre ka haath thaame aage badhe. school ne tarakki ki. hum bhi saath aage chal diye. dus baarah baras ke hue toh khud ko dosto se ghira paya. saath khelte, saath padhte. ghar mein bhi hamesha padhai ka mahaul tha. roz shaam haath pair dho kar padhne baith jaate. dil mein aage badhne ki chahat thi. aankon mein sapne they ki ek din kuchh badaa karenge. logo se suna karte they dilli shahar mein kaafi chamak-damak hai. sun kar dil mein ek chahat si jaag uthti thi.

14 saal humne ussi school ki aangan mein guzar diye. baarahwi pass kiya. number bhi theek se they. aankon mein sapne abhi bhi jawaan they. bade shahar ki baatein hum abhi tak bhool na paye they. magar pitaji se dil ki baat kahe bhi to kaise? maa se kahaa ki hume dilli ki college mein padhna hai. gharwale jaraa sahme. humare ghar mein shayad hi kisi ne bihar ke baahar kadam rakha tha. dilli to dur ki baat thi. fir bhi gharwalo ko kisi tarah manaya. tasalli di ki sab kuchh sambhal lenge. bhari mann se ma ne haami bhar di. doston ko bhi humne alvida keh diya. pitaji saath dilli aye. tez raftaar ki zindagi dekh kar pitaji ne humari or dekha. hum to apni hi duniya mein khoye they. naya shahar, naya josh tha.

Pitaji ko chhodne station aye. train chal padi. waapas jaate waqt pitaji ki aankhon mein humne aanson ki do boondein dekhi. hum iske aadi na they. isliye thoda dukh hua. bhaari mann se apne kamre mein waapas aye. magar aankhon ne fir se naye sapne sajaane ki tayyari kar li thi.

17 saal ki umar mein ek anjaan shahar mein akele ek nayi shuruaat ki. din beete. aaj dilli shahar mein aaye hue paanch saal se zyada ho chuke hain. na shahar raas aya, na shahar ki raunak. fir bhi jeeye ja rahe hain. is jaddojahat mein purane saathi kahin kho se gaye—kuchh humse aage nikal gaye, kuchh ko humne peechhe chhod diya—kabhi jaan kar kabhi anjaane mein. magar in sab se bekhabar hum khud mein hi guum hain. aage ka pata nahin par paanv chale ja rahe hain. ankhein andhere mein aaj bhi kuchh talaash rahi hai. dil mein aaj bhi kuchh paane ki hasrat hai, ek tamanna hai. bas raste anjaan se hain. awara ki tarah manzil ki bas ek jhalak paane ko betaab chale ja rahe hain. kabhi ahiste, kabhi tez par yeh kadam hain ki rukne ka naam hi nahin lete. bas ek ummeed hai ki manzil agle mod pe humara intezaar kar rahi hai. manzil mile na mile, ek baat is shahar ne zarur sikhaya hai ki bina thamey, bina ruke chalte jaane ko hi zindagi kehte hain....

Deus Ex Machina

When everything seems over---no goal to aim at, no obstacle to wipe out, no road to construct, no success to celebrate, no loss to ponder over---an angel sans any halo behind his head appears out of nowhere to create unexplored areas, to open new doors, to pose new challenges. He is, if anyone, worth being called Deus Ex Machina.

My Day And I

Let everyone inquire
But this day is mine
They say the state's dire
But little do they know
That the sun is about to shine

Change

There is nothing more charming
Than touching the wind of change
That may end up carving
The results that are ever so strange

Trial And Error

Trial and error, believe it or not, is the best form of learning. It gives the opportunity to look into what goes wrong when we do a job in one particular way. It provides opportunities to correct things at a pace which suits a human mind the best. A slow process, someone might say but quality is any day better than quantity. Moreover, it helps a person learn on his own. There is perhaps no better feeling than satisfaction. And that's why, there is no better way to know the laws of nature.

Wait

Copper leaves flew high in the wind
Rustling each other often they grinned
Thought they were flying on their own
And when the wind stopped blowing
The seeds of disappointment were sown

Often they make a feeble try
The wind smiles ever so wry
They wait for wind's mercy again
With heaps of helplessness and
Little patience flowing in their vein

Game

Let's go out and play a game;
With zeal and slice of acclaim;
Having searing spirit and just one aim;
Where the winner is revered;
And the loser collects the blame.

Prey

It matters to me. It really does. They may never meet again, rather they won't meet again. I've ensured that. They won't hear each other again. They won't see each other again. I want it to hurt them. Unfortunately, my effort doesn't alter things much. I can only manhandle events; not the results. They themselves will determine their fate. Brutal may it sound but I am elated that world will never see them together. Sadist I am. I can only hope that they are not masochists. I pretend to heal wounds; I'm not known to inflict wounds. I enjoy my stealth. I move on. Quietly. Viciously. Proudly
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It hurts. It really does. There is an eerie sense of pain. Unbearable pain. It is about to obliterate every patch of vitality. I often thought that we would be together. Always. I always wished to see him; I always wished to hear him. It proved to be a gag. I was wrong. I was proved wrong. Brutally. Intentionally. Time, they say, heals wounds. I think otherwise. It seems that like everything else, time has eventually been corrupted. It has lost its character. Time has started bestowing wounds. May be, it always did. It is a sadist. It waits, hunts, enjoys. And then, moves on--quietly, viciously, proudly.
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I can sense victory...Another victory. I must thank them for their support.

Virile

Here It Goes

It can't get bigger than this. The much-anticipated mega-event that everyone (at least I) had been waiting for so long has finally arrived. ICC World Cup 2007. Right from my childhood, I have dreamt of watching India win the cricket world cup. People from the generation that precedes me don't tire telling me stories of how they went out beating dhols on the streets when India, unexpectedly of course, won 1983 Prudential World Cup; how a proud Kapil Dev whole-heartedly accepted the trophy on the famous balcony of Lord’s; how he and his teammates went around Delhi with the charming silver trophy; how Mrs. Indira Gandhi congratulated him for the grand success. And I don’t tire listening to them either. But there is a subtle sense of jealousy. I always feel jealous when they tell me those lusty episodes, for I have always wished to see all those events repeating themselves in our era. It was such a pleasure to watch that Prudential World Cup when I visited the Lord’s museum a couple of years ago. I can’t imagine the high spirits all around India if this present team manages to pull out a victory on April 28, 2007. Words of a person who is truly in love with the Indian cricket team.

History, as they say, repeats itself and I desire to see this saying coming true this year. Since that golden month of July 1983, India has come close to winning this event on more than one occasion—1987 semifinal and then 1996 semifinal. But none so closer than the grand finale of 2003 edition. Faces in the team have changed but desire has inevitably remained the same. Come on India. Give all of us a chance to beat dhols on the streets on India. Trust me, this generation of cricket lovers will pray in front of your idols for a long, long time. You guys are, of course, not Gods but you will be treated like nothing lesser than Gods in India.

Though I am an avid Indian cricket team fan, I would like the games of this WC to be tantalizingly poised rather than being one-sided. There is much more sense of elation when a whole team competes against another team to win a close match. Blazes of individual brilliance, most of the times, don’t manage to create such illustrious effect. 2003 WC was a spoilsport in this respect. Even that Indo-Pak encounter in Centurion Park resulted in a one-sided affair, thanks to some extraordinary effort by Tendulkar. That is why, unlike most Indians, I rate 1999 WC matches much higher than those of 2003 WC. One can recall that Australia-South Africa semifinal as an example to understand what I mean.

On a serious note, irrespective of which team wins the trophy, Cricket should be the ultimate winner. And may the best team win. Everything else is secondary.

Playing With Faces

As crowd becomes dizzy, city dips into murk
Though flesh gets lazy, my head jumps to work
With hush in abundance, tranquility tickles the mind
I wish this brutal cosmos were always so kind

The faces I see daily are so misleading
I never know if they are euphoric or bleeding
Faces are often not as obvious as they look
They own the shrewdness of an agile crook

Those faces stare mine and give different name
Alas, alas, they sound anything but the same
They call me a terror, they call me a saint
Perhaps I am everything, everything I ain't

I often see my face in that old dusty mirror
As a desperate attempt to make myself clearer
As always, I lose in this age old game
But one day, I will gift myself a name

The pigeons outside are seizing peace
The golden rays are about to fleece
We'll try reading those faces again
Without ignoring that tinge of feign

The Other Side

When the first yellow rays hit her face
Dew gave grass the final embrace
Woke she up in the usual space
Without anticipating any fresh race

Leaning casually at small windowpane
Looked at the street she again and again
Passed a man during thin morning rain
Their eyes met daily and lips smiled then

Moved he ahead, her curious eyes gazed him
Until he reached horizon's brim
She wished to go out, relish and scream
She envied his freedom in restless dream

Walked he hopelessly towards the town
His tired feet gradually slowing down
Who the woman was having eyes dark brown
Thought he daily with head always drown

Reckoned she herself a bird in prison
His smile lent her a hope, a reason
With a desire to taste the changing season
She abandoned her haven like a wild pigeon

The sun was warm, she found it sweet
Ran she through the field of wheat
The air she touched was fresh and neat
Believed she was in a company elite

Sneaked into her abode, he saw luxury a lot
An abundance of fortune he always sought
Proud he felt as he handled a golden pot
There was more than what he had ever thought


The sun began beating, it was all heat
She was brought down on her feeble feet
The sun went down, gloom showed its ugly teeth
Gold lost its hue, seemed like an iron cleat

Amid her cosmos, her throat went dry
She couldn't find her any ally
Having had his fortune, got nothing to try
Girdled by golden hue, he sought to vie

On the doorsteps they did collide
There was nothing to show, nothing to hide
Realized they something and then they cried
The grass is not greener on the other side

Futile Steps

Mute I grew, sensed I few
It was only a picture that I knew
Slowly and calmly I carried my soul
From a distance, I looked at my goal

Bare-chested I faced the morning cold
I am the one who was not to be sold
I recognized not the direction of wind
I was ever at the start, ever at the end

The fog came riding on the season
Just for its sake, hardly a reason
Shrouded it me like the darkness of night
I was brutally blinded amidst a fight

The fog grew old and so did I
With closed eyes I learned to fly
Waving my huge wings, the fog I fought
Beaten the nature, I proudly thought

Roared I loud, faster I flew
Aim was left behind, hardly I knew
There was no coming back, I realized late
Was it pride or was it the fate?

The goal looked tiny from the distance
Smiled I little with no resistance
A moth flew over my dead open mouth
I knew today sun will sink into the south

Run Afoul

"These people in AIIMS are doing a commendable job. Their inspiring protest will certainly lead to some very fruitful results," an IITian spoke to his mate with his eyes fixed on the newspaper headlines. "Yes, they are. Why don't we carry out a similar protest? We should also raise our voice. Our voice must be heard. What say?' replied the other guy. "Indeed!"

Two months later, a student-faculty body spread leaflets all over IITD—in every hostel, in insti, on streets of IIT—everywhere. Students along with faculty members were asked if they protested reservation. The students who protested reservations were asked to write their names and entry numbers on papers distributed by the committee especially for this purpose. Overwhelming statistics of the surveillance was printed and distributed in IIT. Around 98% of students and 92% of faculty members protested reservations. Meanwhile, a date was fixed and students who protested this reservation policy in writing were asked to be a part of a peaceful rally to express their disagreement over it. Even the faculty members of different departments were asked to join this act. The organizers of this protest rally looked more than satisfied with the proceedings.

On the D-day--not very surprisingly--only a handful of students turned up. The number of faculty members present there huffed and puffed to go past the mark of a dozen. This handful of students and faculty members hopped to the doorsteps of each and every hostel to urge people inside to come out and be a part of it. But who can alter the ideas of those who always have some more important work to do? Most students ignored the cause citing one reason or the other. Some of the guys had to show their faces to their parents who can't live without seeing their wards every weekend, some of them had to rest their eyes laden with enormous amount of sleep, some of them had to write mock CAT papers while some had to prepare for PIs and GDs. The interesting part is that majority of the guys preparing for GDs must have debated over pros and cons of reservation and proposed peaceful protest as one of the steps against this policy. An irony!

But the most widely-used justification—if at all given--for the absence was—"Yaar, in sab se kuchh hota hai kya? Kuch nahin hone wala protest se. Aaj tak kuchh hua hai kya?" These kinds of explanations—-that are miles away from justifications--can leave anyone speechless. "But mate, no matter what the result is, we can always be satiated that we played our part against something we believe is not correct." "To hell with satisfaction!" No further comments, My Lord.

Next day, NDTV reports that a mob of around 600 IIT students and more than 100 IIT faculty members brought out a grand, avid protest against reservation policy. A reporter interviews a faculty member for a couple of minutes. The Times of India also produces similar huge statistics. People all over read that IIT eventually has started showing the power of its big student and faculty community.

"I didn't know that while I was sleeping yesterday morning, so many students and faculty members measured the length of streets in Delhi ," said someone in the reading room of Vindy after reading the article in The Times of India . "How much did they actually measure," asked his mate. Their giggles saturated the environment.

IIT continues to live up to the expectations of the outer world; and IITians to those of the inner world!! Nevertheless, they co-exist with harmony—-dubious harmony, though.