Rust between the waves

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The “dhai kilo ka haath” swing across my face, maintaining a physical contact with it for the time it transferred the P.E following the  impulse-momentum theorems-bringing my face(initially at rest) to a state of motion and then the eyes caught loose motions. All following the newton’s third law of action and reaction, when you are late with your project. This is when I first got the idea of the laws of physics and later learned that the laws of universe are were so precise that we had no problems in sending spaceships to moon and timing it’s landing to the fraction of a second.my brain sensed the “touch” of the palm. A day full of emotions.

The major question that puzzles everyone after a sci-fi robot classic is” will ever machines be able to capture such a scenario, will they ever be like humans-autonomous???”. Can humans creations ever catch the essence of a human?. Can humans actually find the answer for “existence of god?”

Last Sunday, I was at the nearby beach. After loads of fun, I sat under the scorching sun for some “relief”. The waves cuddled my feet; the breeze rejuvenates my lost soul. The waves smash the rocks somewhere to my right; I can hear such a pure sound. The fish remains left by the back current- remind me of my origin and how far I have shifted from the “ANIMAL KINGDOM”. The black and white stripped light house tells me tales of the brave ships who were now beneath me into the blue and of those who safely rested in their harbours. The merry children enjoying the day, the estuary which feeds on the ocean, the mangroves born out of sea, the eyes wondering at the sea and searching for those twenty thousand leagues under the sea. An abyss cultivating life.

But far off in the middle of this I see a coast guard boat, rudely making way against the tenderness of the waves. “Poor boat “..i said to myself.

can a machine ever feel the two emotions mentioned above??. well- "HUMANS WERE NOT IN AIR 100 YEARS AGO"

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Apna dil ek baar dekar dekho...

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Delhi is “the capital of india” . yeh hai “dil waalon ki dilli”.A place well known for its historic heritage sights, the huge variety of food , the shopping centres and most of all- the people who fill all these places. Divided into many parts, Delhi is actually a mixture of different section comprising of different types of places holding equal importantance.one such location is , Central Delhi. It’s the region where prime minister and president reside. Off course others also, but its more of a strategic location.

Connaught place market is the key of central delhi and is the heart of the city. Built about 200 years back in the British rule, the white structure (recently renovated for CWG 2010) still stands tall. some about 10yrs back, this place was full of cars, scooters and buses, but thanks to the Mr. Sreedharan travelling is now not a hectic task. Metro surely smoothened the ride. One can see all sort of crowds here. College students who bunked the classes and are hanging around, ladies shopping in the state emporiums , teenage girls and guys stalking the street shops for clothing and accessories , Mrs. Sharma roaming throughout the inner circle dragging her daughter along, looking for some bride stuff, Mr. james-a tourist is in the search for true Indian goods and land up at Fabindia or The Rajiv Gandhi State emporium, Mr. Thomas has a meeting tomorrow and is looking for the right suit to match his newly purchased Louis Philippe shoes.   Some like wandering around for their “jewels” in the scorching heat, while other just circle the periphery in cars from the outer circle or some prefer to stay under the shades of the Metro trees-the central park. food doesn’t cost much, especially in the pallika bazaar but far from this crowd are “people” who are sandwiched between the inner and outer circle—those below the line.

Their major food source is the temple remains or those who feed them someday- flaunting their generous behaviour. The society has never been kind, so govt. steps seem immaterial. Their smile increases with each rupee given and inreturn all they have and can give the society is their wishes. Elderly say, that “unki duaaon mein bahut asar hota hai, who sacche dil se dua dete hai” . If to trust the NATGEO documentary, india has the max. no. of eunuch(hijra) and majority are illiterate. Its not their fault. This could happen with anyone. It was their fate, but I believe that society should think beyond the everlasting set conditions of marriage and sustainance. So what they cant carry forward a family—they never asked anyone for that. All they need is care, love and modes (by that I mean better ones) of “living” their life and not just dragging it.

Their world is limited within the circle and unless we don’t step up, they will just keep on imagining the life of the madding crowd that’s beyond their reach. I ask you

“if reservation is for caste, “SEX”, and religion then what the harm in fighting for a EUNUCH who’s potential is just getting wasted. Its time to stand up for something apart from caste and religion, and fight for the true cause because the reason for all reservations is THEIR FATE 

Apna dil sirf cricket aur ladke/ladki ko mat do,.koi aur bhi iska hakdaar hai

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Not in this life...

from bacterias to multicellular,we grew but our needs grew faster and in this chase of thoughts and desires, we lost our harmony with nature...ironically, in this "modern" age, nature sighting is the sole source of rejuvenation for your soul..around the world , man has created a havoc..now let see some mind stirring moments of my place, manipal..god's own city

the waves refresh you and the breeze lightens your soul...

India isn't just incredible,Its unique

India might still be considered as the land of snake charmers and magicians, but to tell the truth, it is this force and belief within us that brings peace into our lives.our concrete jungle may not be so dense, but whats the fun in living in one when ur heart is still wandering for peace.

india is among those countries in the world which always craved for peace because this land contains all those peace giving elements.again,its just a matter of belief .. and that's why its "INCREDIBLE INDIA"

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My Colours- author's cut

Many would have seen paintings; some of you might be the creators of one. I fall in the second category. Yes, I paint. i love playing with colours. Bright, dark and some really shiny. You mix and get more types of them .the canvas is vast and a good painter always tries to put his whole lot of imagination into it. He doesn’t exactly know about the outcome, because he’s busy playing. All his energy is focused on a limited area, within which he projects his then current state of mind. But the challenge of mind is to create within some restrictions .when you can’t go with all your imagination.

Once your mind is portrayed on the canvas, erasing it and preparing a new one isn’t possible. You need a different canvas for maintaining the stream line flow of thoughts and colours. Sometimes your thoughts and imagination goes beyond limits and you need more space, a bigger canvas that accumulates all your thoughts and then you play with them,

The “SKY” is then your new canvas with clouds as your brushes, available In all shapes and sizes. All you have to do is , sit down and relax and let your imagination fill up the sky. You have the rainbow as your ultimate source of colours, everlasting so you can never stop painting and it is always erasable. You don’t need a new one .in this modern age, this is the only thing in nature available for plenty , is free and always at your service.
But like everything in this world, the sky has some limits.

It was late in the night as I returned from my bashing evening. Never in my life I had so much of fun and so it is expected that I had to share all of my feeling and positive vibrations I held within me , with someone who wouldn’t let this happiness go in vain. I messaged her
“Had a blast full evening, have lots of stories to tell”

It’s started raining. I was now busy arranging my room and sudden message tone broke the silence. I was expecting her reply. This was it.it read;
“call asap”
To which I politely replied….
“M low on balance, is it possible for you to call??”

It was too late and I wasn’t expecting her call but the caller ringtone reached my ears, breaking the silence again and then I left my room, giving my roommate some space with his books and I made some for myself. I roamed through the whole corridor, never alone. Her voice was as beautiful as she herself, yet she never trusted me when I complimented her.
She was unique. I haven’t seen any other girl who’s more beautiful than her and she was, both in looks and from the heart, very innocent, cute, lovable, joyful and sweet. Words seem less to describe her. All these I thought while she was enquiring about my “stories” to which I replied very enthusiastically.
By this time I had descended down one level and was standing deviant a broken window which we called the gateway to heaven. In front of me was a huge valley with distant white spots. It was already past 12am. The next day had begun. The dark bluish sky with white spills and minute polka dots and varying shades of violet combined. So calm and silent indicating the coming up of a new time…

My eyes were admiring the scenic beauty, when I asked her
“So how was the day??”
To which she silently in low voice….
“Nothing much, just another day of college and studies, had some fun and then back home tired”
(Some conversations later….)
“Haven’t you ever thought of doing something that would make you feel happy from inside and your parents take pride”?

Then I got to know, she always wanted to be a model. She was so dedicated to this dream that she left chocolates. She knew within her heart that she will make it. I could see her very well through the clouds. I was painting her image as she continued speaking imagining her clothes, her smile and surroundings. The painting also included her as a supermodel. A smile came on my face. I figured her image through the dark night without borrowing the rainbow colours. Because all those colours came from my subconscious mind.

But suddenly, the painting was wet. The colours started fading. Image became blurred. I couldn’t see her and knew there was something wrong. I rubbed my eyes and saw that fingers were wet. Tears came in my eyes.

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THIS WORLD ISN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR BOTH OF US - THE BOY WHO LIVED

                                                                    for those who liked the first

(All characters here are purely a work of fiction. It has no resemblance to any person living or dead)



Siren shoots up breaking the silence of the dark and calm night. Tapping feet cover the ground and snipers deployed on the towers.3 patrol jeeps exit the jail. All cells locked and remaining prisoners thrown back home. It was his 4th in past 10 yrs, but podolsky never made it. “two cigarettes , for a dead Podolsky this time”-a prisoner places his bet
.”Ok..slowly open your eyes, ya..thats it. good he’s responding. shift him without anybody’s eyes. He’s deeply wounded. Keep him low.”-said the doctor. On his way to the ward, Podolsky was informed that he had been shot twice in his leg and he had drained down in the river and reached the outskirts of the city and was picked by one of their ambulance passing by. The police had searched the hospital yesterday and for now, he’s safe. Podolsky recovered fast and within 3 days started roaming in the hospital .he figured , it was a hospital for differently able. since His identity was lost in 6 yrs, he requested to work with them, starting away fresh, but destiny had some different plans for this prisoner.
One day, he noticed a cute kid, walking with crutches . something strange was happening. He felt familiar to his eyes. Eyes which were out of his sight for 6 yrs. he ran towards him and looked carefully. yes it was him. “Dear god, it’s you Johnny.” He yelled out. “omg!! Johnny what happened to you, I told him to take good care”.. He went on crying, while he hugged him. he kissed him all over, but the kid smiled and went away without paying attention to him, as if he was a stranger. podolsky was broken. How was he going to explain him, who he was..
The doctors told that “Johnny” was brought 2 yrs ago from his village, north of Auschwitz .flood had struck there and his parent had drowned. Hunger struck him for days. After deeper examination here, it was found that a part of his brain had been damaged, probably an injury. “what kind of injury??”… It could be anything, a pole; a tree etc. might have hit him. His right leg got paralysed and now his mental age was 6. Podolsky had tears in his eyes. He stared at him. that night was terrible for him. he was feeling guilty. His selfishness had ruined the kid’s life. I trusted him. He cried the whole night.
From the next day, he started spending more time with Johnny, in hope that he may recover soon however the doctors had given up. A new podolsky was born. he took care of all the kids and told them stories. Every hug from the kids, made him feel lighter. The kids loved him and he loved the kids. the staff was happy too. Months went by,everything was going smooth till one day, he saw himself on a wanted poster in the nearby market. The police never gave up. He squeezed out quickly and sheltered back in the hospital. His heartbeat was fast. He was all sweat and tensed. What if they found him??. He didn’t want to leave heaven to return to hell. So he decided fast.


That night was his last stay. Next morning after the daily chores, he informed the head and left the hospital but did meet Johnny before going. He was in complete tears and so were the staff, as they were bidding farewell to a changed man. they will miss him.

“son, I have to go now.. you be a good man. God bless you. Even my shadow will never haunt you.. Because this world isn’t big enough for both of us”
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