Where I Wish to be ?

Where I wish to be ?

.

On the road to somewhere,

Somewhere I thought i wished to be.

Somewhere, that started as a destination,

its the road that’s become me. .

Little by little, each passing day,

Heart and soul that grow- cruising through purples,

or Stuck at life’s Grey.

It’s a joy ride, 

through the school that is life.

It’s a new canvas everyday,

Paint-brush that is mind.

On road to somewhere,

It’s the road that’s making me, me.

Does it really matter, 

where I wish to be ?

The Sunset in Mara

The Sunset in Mara.

Just that, it doesn’t really set in Mara,

It makes way for the circles of life to come alive, 

It’s the crimson trumpet that blows to make way 

For the battlefield to come to life.

For the eyes that glow in the dark and the hunters ready to unleash.  

The stealthy stalkers at ease,

Vs the vigilant senses,

the predators on loose,

Vs the strong defences. 

The failed chases, 

The triumphant blood red faces,

The joining dots to story of evolution,

And the daily survival races. 

A new story is written,

When sun sets in Mara.

Just that, sun doesn’t really set in Mara,

It makes way for Mara to paint the story of life,

For a new day to see.

Sanity?

Why can be black not separated from white,

Why do those greys form, 

and the dark clouds of doubt, give no respite.

Why does the fear from truth set in,

Why develops a comfort route to which mind gives in.?

Can there be stronger self, that would set that mind right,

Sanity that would prevail,

To set the black from white.

Run.

And these circles, that we keep falling to.

Circles that take us away from, the places that we need reach to.

Some time to Move away and look at, the circle they've weaved us to.

Some strength, to rise up and get where we must do.

Break away, for the self.

Self that needs be recognised too.

For it has to rise up, Break away from circles they've bound us to.

Run,

Run to where there's no need to hide.

Run to where you can be, just be.

Run to where their circles don't exit.

Run to where there's a meaning to.

Circles

Small big things lost the place they hold,

in quest for the other quests those were unknown

The square tiles, and the points cut, on crossing them over

The long hop, the short hop, the hop hop, the puddle left by the rain shower

The zephyr, the thoughts flew with 

The smell of the palms, he grew with

A few Small big things that lost the place they used to hold

He runs, and runs even more

The closer he gets, the farther it goes

He never draws the lines,Those were always there to be drawn

He is the king, sometimes he is the pawn

The quest, lost its place, to the Things that lost the place they hold

The circles exist

And the king and the pawn, always end up in the same box.

The Non Me

I was always there, where i forever wished to be
I knew all the paths, that never knew me
They tread, the lines that had been drawn
I broke rules, because I am me

Changing Times

Maybe it is the transition phase. But I have always belonged to the old school. Perhaps it is difficult for me to be foresighted and optimistic and anticipate the transformation for good. From the day one I havent been appreciative of evolution of T20 cricket, although I was sure that is where the future lies. Watching the Rajkot ODI (or rather following it on line) was not really a pleasant experience. It hurt somewhere within, to see the sport which has been a very essential part of growing up of thousands of Indian kids like me, being celebrated in an entirely transformed manner. India won, but I found it hard to find the jubilation within myself. It was just a relief in the end. Nagpur ODI, India lost, and it did not matter. I find it rather disturbing, to not be able to emotionally attach myself to the victory or the defeat.
The same person who, a few years back would pray in the bed before sleep for next day"s match. Who couldnt miss a ball being balled, and could not keep his hands apart while Sachin was at crease (this part still holds true though). An Indian defeat would mark a meaningless day and a close shave would mean your throat couldnt swallow for rest of the hours.
But does all this mean a lessened interest in cricket or lack of enthusiasm for Indian win.? Neither. I am praying against odds for a WI victory Vs Aus, and would wake up early tomorrow to see the 1st delivery being bowled (WI needs 50 odd runs, 5th day, with 1 wicket left), and am already exited about how the English chase for 350 run target turns up Vs SA.
Cricket, as I grew up, became an integral part of life. However, by my own definition, it is about 2 contests between bowlers and batsmen of both sides, rather than simply being which side scores more. The current evolution seems to be leading to the latter one (thanks to T20). An equal platform needs to be provided to prevent cricket from being reduced to a batting slugfest. Curators need to redefine the "perfect ODI track". I have always loved the contests where team batting first struggles to the score of 225 odd runs and the match turns up to be a cliffhanger. Cricket for me is getting deprived of terms such as - 'prize on the wicket', 'set yourself in', 'the superb short selection', 'see this bowler through' and so on. Modern day cricket is not giving time for these anymore. You hit and hit hard. Maybe, batting has evolved through, maybe the conditions are same as before and its just the batsmen' mindset that has helped reach the new high. But then there is a need to empower the other set as well. It has to be a contest of equals. If batting has evolved, give chance to bowlers to put up a fight. Let the ball bounce and seam off the pitch, let it turn and turn square. Let batsmen play few overs through and understand the 'conditions'. 'Conditions' - the 3rd critical parameter that has quietly taken the backseat. Let the spell be seen off and then we'll score. Let the prize on wicket be back.

Disarray of Sometime

Some time to be ourselves,
naked souls and nothing to hide.
Speak, listen, forgive, forget, let go
Divulge, protest, deliberate, liberate
Learn, teach, praise, condemn, berate,
Express, accept, laugh, cry, let it all flow

Some time for realization
Some time to dig deep
Some time for what we've become
Some time for incertitude that begins to creep
The mesh that weaves us to regulations set by them
Some time to let ourselves disentangle and be free
Some time.

we..

a stream set free, supposed to find its own way
discover the virtues, recognize its plays
but They come, armed with swords and knives
shining with societal vindications and adjunct rules for lives
swept away from deep inside
the purpose is left blurred
the purpose that forever existed
the purpose that gets never discovered
fearful of strength to overcome the fear
fear gets strengthened and strengths disappear
the lines are drawn, and the stream treads the path they pave
a stream set free, and its way ?

Conspiracy

A Conspiracy.

Its building up.
The wish to get more than what you are entitled to.
The race to accumulate what is not yours.
The "system works this way" blame game.
The benchmarks set. Not of our own minds, but their shutters and others' achievements in the above race.
The Conspiracy of Conspirators unknowingly forcing them to be a part of the bigger it.

I can't see anyone drawing line on enough. Nobody seems to define what it is. Squeeze more is the name of the game.
The notion of elation is defined in terms of an elusive object without limits applied. Elation.. huh !.

Vicious circles don't end.

George Costanza's Words of Wisdom (Seinfeld)

"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death. What's that, a bonus?!?

I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you go live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, go collect all your super, then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for High School. You go to primary school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last 9 months floating with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, then you finish off as an orgasm! Amen."

small things

• trample dried leaves in a park, experience the crush
  
• stamp an empty cigarette pack on street, feel collapse
• the "much" needed break in bus journey and the bliss
• new shoes, any reflecting surface on the way, stealthy self analyzing glance
• dew on glass, magic wand called finger and works of art
• a child still in his own unknown world, his innocent smile
  
• measure walk on square tiles, a game between the two feet. equal the number of lines crossed by each, win
• hand taking the bite to your mouth, face of the stray dog standing there

Demise of Cricket?

Its a sad occasion and the world seems to be celebrating. Driven by the large potential for money minting and providing entertainment to masses, a beautiful (gentleman's) game called cricket has been murdered brutally by so called harbingers of the sport that to some was more than a religion. Sport that in its subtleties is much more than just hitting the ball has been reduced precisely to that.

No more mind games, no more temperament being tested, and no more application of the 'real' technique. I pity those who used the statement "what a leave !". Sadly we wont hear that ever again. You better return back to the pavilion. We cannot afford a dot ball. Its no more a game of setting yourself in and reading the situation. There is no situation. Its only about how well you can take the shine off that spherical leather object. Keep hitting or get lost. We also used to hear a statement " What a great batsman, really puts a heavy price tag on his wicket ". Haha ! no more. Its sheer stupidity. There's no concept of 'throwing' your wicket away anymore. Its just the rule of the game. Batsmen can live happily. No more blames for playing a rash shot. Its all they have to play. "Get your body behind the ball" wont be appreciated anymore. I guess, all the coaching manuals have to be re-written now. Spinners might well be an extinct species in the world of cricket. The next generation wouldn't even know what a flighted delivery is, nobody would tech them. Never leave a delivery. Forget the sound of willow of that solid forward/backfoot defence. Who the hell tries to play straight!! "Elbow straight and body behind the line" stop kidding !! .. and so on.

Cricket will die soon. Transition from test to one-dayers and now 20 20. I love the play on the wearing down 4th day pitch. I love the 1st session with batsmen showcasing an art of leaving the ball. Get through the initial spell of pacers moving the ball. How each day of a test match was a battle in iteslf. A battle of techniques, mind and application.
Alas! coming generations might not even know that a cricket match lasted for 5 days! How experts used to comment "see through the spell of new ball". Now that is what all is left. No more specialist openers, no more specific players at specific positions. No more spinners, no more flight. A highly reduced commentator's lexicon "That's a biggie and here's another one". That's all what's left.

I used to love the game. Not sure anymore.

irrelevant

an extremely fragile mind.

a mesh... of thoughts, of feelings, of observations, of interpretations, of conclusions.

at a given point of time it chooses what it chooses to choose. modified, distorted, customized version of reality. but who knows what reality is.

doubt is a funny thing. there's a justification. actual problem arises when there are two. stupidity forces to believe the less comforting one. wish that the mind was strong enough. wish that the thoughts had more control. thoughts travel faster than anything else. to places and times undesired in times of doubt. wish places could be serene and times better. all depends on the mode. the mode on thoughts. thoughts on mind. mind on control. circle completes.

disarray.

highness!

high.. haze.. oblivion.

Gradual and smooth transition. Know all to know not. Mind is a powerful thing. But somehow it starts losing. Internal links are broken. Something's not right. Let it be. Senses stop responding the way they are supposed to. Let them. Flow. Don't restrain or else 'purpose' would be lost. Nevermind if there wasn't one, it slowly develops itself. Sanity disregards this purpose. Disregard sanity. Human tendencies need not be curbed. Feelings are important. False feelings. Shortlived. Misleading. But they guide you far away. Away is where everything great is. Visit the place..

Walk On . . .

Move ahead. Rewind. Feels like you're still there. But can't be a part of it.

A new place. New people. Strange condition. I smell pretence everywhere. First Impression holds utmost importance. Interact. Move around. Make friends. Opposite sex is given special consideration. Their presence really affects the behaviour. Chicken Talk is a universal phenomenon (term coined by Gupta.. will explain some other day). No judgements need to be passed. Move away. Look from a distance. Enjoy. That's why I've been a loser in this area (~ of initial socializing). After two weeks at MDI, my neighbour, from my batch, asked if I was a senior. Perhaps I moved a bit too much away. For me it was a compliment. It's great to be known for not to be known. All this left aside, during the initial days mind had a stupid tendency to traverse back on the time-axis and rush towards the good old college. Whatever time it got from the extremely hectic schedule was spent with the people who met for a few years and went their ways. There's a nostalgic question mark over meeting them ever again.
Anyway, all that was initial effect. Place is actually good. People nice. I'm really glad not to be working and have an extended 2 years of college life. I've managed to find like minded people who don't believe in studies much. Movie a day keeps things great.
Ah!.. time for next one..

Blog .. huh!

I am here. I don't have any clue why? Perhaps, because it is in fashion to be here. But what the hell ! Why is it so difficult for me to be me? The opening two sentences have held true for wherever I have been and most of the things that I have been doing for the last 22 years. I am not the real I. Infact I have not been allowed to recognize the real me and it has been lost somewhere during the course of time. Everyone is running. A mad rush. There is nothing really to achieve. But still, run. Everyone is doing so. I am doing so. A line has been drawn. Keep following with blind eyes and deaf ears. Engineering degree.. ah! a safe career. An MBA.. even better. What next ? Yeah, its all about the stupid money. That is what everyone is running after. That is what has guided me (or rather, my choices). But the fact is, I don't know myself. 22 years have not been enough for me to figure out what I really want. Baz Luhrmann (Everybody's free (to wear sunscreen)) gives some comfort. That is what I have been doing. Find comfort in small things. Or rather, only they can be comforting. Larger picture is same for everyone. King and the Pawn end up in same box once the game is over. Its only the race to the box that everyone is part of.