Hope

The might of a cancer survivor,
The enemy of dispair forever,
The inspiration for the silver winner,
The prayer of the repentant sinner
Its Hope.

The ally of faith and wisdom,
The engine of a flourishing kingdom,
The mentor of patience and calmness,
The panacea for every illness,
Its Hope

The power in the mind of men,
Rekindling the fire again,
In those who had lost the way,
and strayed far away,
into the darkness of despair,
Its Hope.

Money and Morals

The waiter saw in walk in,and veered away from his trajectory to make a beeline towards me. With a grin and  a seemed-to-be welcoming gesture guided me to my seat.The maitre d' also took an interest in my service quality. Did I mention that I was in a also-ran sort of restaurant with nothing exemplary about it?

 I was quite amused at this fuss being created for a customer,having been at the receiving end of several below par service experiences. Attendants who made you feel as if you are invisible although you became tired of waving your hands- both hands wildly , much like a drowning person hoping to catch to wandering eyes of a lifeguard.

This got me thinking, what is it that brings about such a marked changed in the behavior of an individual in such a short span of time. I roamed my eyes casually , taking in the activities around me. Waiters serving people, people being served, people waving to the waiter, waiter taking orders. I saw the same sort of grin and demeanor at some tables, less so at others, absent from the rest.

So i started to analyse what set apart some tables from the others. At first glance , I couldn't find any difference. Age-no, gender-no, personality-again no. Clothes-Yes.

Better dressed people seemed to be getting better service. I looked down at my attire and verified it. I was in my best shirt and shiny shoes, having just come from a lively Christmas meeting of the Toastmasters club.

Having arrived at the demarcation line of the service quality, I attempted to understand how being better clothed could possibly lead to better service. After all, how one is clothed depends entirely on one's personality. A CEO is comfortable in flip flops and shorts. A bus-driver always wears a tie and impeccable 3 piece suit while driving a bus. A teenager in dhoti and a octogenarian in low waist jeans. What we wear is innately a matter of personal taste and habit.

Something struck me.. a notion... a belief I strongly canvassed against. Could it be that? Of course not... could the scales of value be so tilted? so inverted? Could it be that piece of paper, which never saw the face of a dustbin? Could it be the notion of monetary gain that made the attendants, even the maitre d' to fawn over their "distinguished" customers?

I can only assume that I had arrived at the wrong conclusion, that there was a flaw in my logical steps, a clog of uncertainty in the wheels of precise logic.

Whatever be the reason, I had hit a question that ensconced my mind completely. Over the lasting cup of coffee(which I tried to prolong so that I could occupy the seat for a longer time), my mind asked the very intriguing question- How defined is the relationship between a piece of valuable paper and the valuable foundations of our morals.

Morals are the premier point that defines "human beings" as "being humans". Have the scales of humanity changed? Have we become so enamored with this "plastic" world that we are willing to compromise on our morals, even experience amorality for gaining it?

Frequently do I hear nowadays ,when asked the most cliched question - "Whats your ambition?" , replies which are all an isotope of  "Earn lots of money".

People would call me "Idealistic","Dreamer","Disillusioned","Crazy", and other synonyms of these words, informing me in a condescending tone "that's life. Deal with it. You either break into this world, or the world will break you in a nanosecond.".

We coming for the clans of Suryavanshi ancestors, where ideal kings like Ram, Bharat, Yudhisthir, Karna who upheld their morals in face of the most treacherous plots, who stood their moral ground, when even the Gods had lost their morals, How can we, the citizens of this prestigious Nation, keep aside all our history, our long wrought tradition and run behind the thing which we ourselves have created?

I think money might be the only man-made thing, which we have uplifted to the status of the Divine and have reserved the Divine only in their sanctum sanctorum, deep inside , where normal eyes cannot seek them.

Man has always sought to play God, and in money he had created a weapon the possession of which can make a man God-like.

If we live in a world now where money supersedes morality,man above God, then in fact we have crossed to line going from positive to negative  From being humans, to a creature with whose behavior and morals are unknown to science as yet. Although seemingly polite at the top, hides a cruel animal inside.

We think we have forsaken God, but it might be vice versa too.

Happy Deepavali

With a sparkle in your eyes,
Reunite old ties,
Bid adieu and byes,
to the history that dies,
welcome forth the new era,
que sera, sera.

Happy Deepavali Peeps!!!!

All I Want

All I want is to learn all tongues
So that when the time comes,
for me to express me feelings,
 to the girl I love,
 I won't be.... at a loss of words.

 All I want is to learn to fly
 So that when the time comes to show my joy,
 to the girl I love,
 I won't be a loss of places to go...


 All I want is to see all wonders 
So that when the time comes 
to tell my love she is the most beautiful,
 I know it to be true. 


 All I want is to see all jewels,
 SO that when the time comes,
 to my my love her heart is the brightest
 I know it to be true. 


 All I want ,
 is for her to be mine,
 So that I know for sure,
 I am the happiest man... alive.

Joyless Toys

Wednesday morning. the weather is pleasant for the first time in the year. The Met department predicted the fine weather would continue for the next 10 days. I was enjoying the weather , traveling on the metro rail to office half an hour away.

As the lucky streak would continue, the train bogey that stopped in front of me was relatively empty and I eagerly climbed and put it "thasrif" firmly on the seat.

I let my mind wander off and was enjoying the cool morning breeze when I heard a "thud". I turned my head towards the noise to see a young boy, probably 10 years come in through the window separating the compartments. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts.

I would have found it amusing had it not been for the cardboard box he was holding. It contained the cheap toys, the jingling bells, press and push sort of trinkets we all have played with as kids. But .. he was not playing with them.. he was selling them.

I smiled at the boy , but he looked at me with a neutral face and with a half bored expression pushed a toy in front of me. I wanted to help the boy and buy the toy, but then the words of so call wise ppl of not to help the lads on the trains came to me and I hesitated. In that moment of hesitation , the lad had moved on to the next potential buyer.

Seeing him move around the empty compartment, I felt a mixture of emotions and feelings.
I asked myself, should I be pity the boy for his state of being, at an age when he was to be playing with the same toys as those he was selling, or should I feel proud of him, that he was trying to make an honest living, which is more than I can say about a lot of grown people.

Should I help the boy and make his day better by buying a toy, or should I refrain from him seeing him as a ragamuffin.

Should I feel proud about my parents for showering me with more than enough, or should I feel ashamed about my country for not being able to give its next generation the RIGHT TO EDUCATION, their birthright.

Our country and in some cases the world has grown so bad that it has tapped into the innocence and naiveness of the young kids for its own benefits. Be it in entertainment industry or otherwise, any piece of show/work/action that involves children has turned into a major crowd puller.

At an age when the kids should be surrounded by toys for their own enjoyments, they are made the pieces of entertainment, forced to sell toys which should have themselves, being made to wrap the toys beautifully for another , more fortunate kid to buy, pose in ads for toys.

Toys have lost all meaning and have being useless artifacts that adorn the shelves of those who can afford them. The kids who breathed the life in toys do not enjoy them , preferring more technological stuff like PS and Wii. The toys are not joyless.

Our country has failed to provide the essential support to our next generation, the carefree happiness which can be learned only in childhood, to be remembered throughout our life, reminded by the next generation in front of us.
What are we doing about it?

The Potter Withdrawal Syndrome

Recently with the release of the 8th and the final installment of the Potter movie, I am having what I would call the "Potter withdrawal syndrome".With no new book to look forward to, and no new movies in the making, the future for Potter fans looks bleak.

Those of us who have grown up with the boy wizard, whom we first met when we were his age, have become so used to being around his world and him in particular that this final chapter in the decade old saga , seems like a end of an era.

I have grown a lot since I was first introduced to the magical world and have remained spellbound and enchanted by the adventures and misfortunes of a wizard, so much like us in every aspect(who doesn't have a bad prof in college, who doesn't have a gang of friends, a mortal enemy seen in another student, a crush on a colleague).

This expected yet abhorred end of the journey has made me feel as if someone has shouted "Avada Kedavra" at me.Although I have grown up and now in my twenties , I always had this attachment to the Harry Potter series as if I was still in my teens.With the release of the final part of the movie, the tie that bound me to HP has sort of weakened and frayed.

This withdrawal from the magical world, this enervation of a stupefied person had left me a bit in a toss. Coming to terms with the fact that time has been moving even in the enchanted state,that we have grown and the story had ended is something I am grappling with. This withdrawal syndrome is similar to the one I felt with the completion of the decade of F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

I wish someone would make me drink the "Drought of Living Dead".However, life goes on and as was said succinctly by J.K.Rowling, "Whatever has to come, will come, and we will meet it when it does."

Fare thee well, Harry. You had been a good friend and a companion through tough times in my life.

Miles to Go

The path you have chosen is rough and steep
You will have to travel through fire and sleet
But don't be afraid to take one long leap
Because the chasm can't be crossed in 2 small leaps

There is miles to go before you sleep.