RIKT STHAN KI POORTI KAREIN

Nirmalta ka tum pratyaksha udaharan,
Sundarta hoti tumse paribhashit!
Dekhkar apni is anokhi kriti ko,
Khud Bramha bhi ho raha chakit!!!

Osh ki boond se paawan ho tum,
Masoom si tumhari har muskaan hai!
Adbhut, adwitiya tumhara charitra,
Soch tumhari mahan hai!!!

Dekhkar ashrupurit nayan tumhare,
Hridaya karta chitkaar hai!
Jo na rok paaoon wo ashrudhara,
to swayam pe dhikkar hai!!!

Thak jao agar jeevan mein,
Adhoore reh jaayein agar sapney!
Us waqt bhi jo naam loge hamara,
Paoge sang humein apne!!!

Na rona kabhi tum, sada hanste rehna,
Tum ho to humara viswas hai!
Gaurvanvit hokar kehta hoon,
________ humare paas hai!!!

The search is on!!!

I don't really know what made me compose the following poem ("FIR BHI MERA DUKH SABSE BADA HAI", the post just below this one) but I am very sure of one thing and that is the very poem has given me a new direction in life. It was a usual train journey which I used to hate the most but from now on I am going to welcome these journeys as it was this train journey from Bangalore to Kharagpur which inspired me to see life from a different perspective.

It would be somewhere around Vishakhapattanam, where I saw this boy. He would have been some eleven years of age. The very attire he was clad with was reflecting his status of abject poverty. I was noticing the movements of the kid. He was carrying a kettle in his right hand and some plastic cups in his left one. Bare-footed he, was running across each window of the compartment to maximize his sales before he could hear the whistle of the engine. His very eagerness to find customers for his tea is worth mentioning. Seeing the magnitude of effort put in by an eleven year old to earn his livelihood I was encouraged from my inner self to buy a cup of tea from that kid. I was about to call him when I heard the train whistling and the very next moment I could see the compartment leaving the platform. I was cursing myself for not calling him before. As the train gained pace I could see the face of the kid fading away but it was only later when I realized that I won't be able to wipe out that face from my memories ever. After that I turned my face to pay attention to the activities going inside the compartment. The very click which made me take out my travel diary(I always keep a note pad while traveling to capture these kinda events then and there) and start writing was the flashing of these two lines "dekhta hoon us nanhe baalak ko, haathon mein pustak ki jageh chaaye ki ketli". Somebody may ask why "pustak" (book) and nothing else like "khilauna" (a toy). But I have got a reason for this as well. When I turned my face to look inside the compartment I found another kid but this time the scene was altogether different. I saw a thirteen year old kid holding a book of SUDOKU puzzles. The continuous pampering of the child by his mother was making me perplexed. I was finding it very difficult to understand the contrast existing in life. On one hand I was seeing a deprived child on the other a child privileged with extra affection of his parents. I was wondering ,why this disparity when everybody is HIS child? Why this imbalance? Is this some kind of a game played by HIM? Why is this going on? Is there any end to all this drama? I know I cant leave my family and society in search of answers to this queries as Buddha did but ofcourse I need the answers to these queries. Is it very difficult or rather impossible to get the answers to these queries while being a very much part of this world???
I searched a lot and am still searching to get those queries answered but I know I am not that fortunate to get relieved so easily. So, to satisfy my emotions(or in a way to deceive them) I decided to complete the poem .

फिर भी मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है !!!

देखता हूँ उस वृद्ध भिक्षु को,
अपंग, असहाय, अक्षम!
दो पैसों कि आस में न जाने कब से एक पैर पे खड़ा है,
फिर भी मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है!!!

देखता हूँ उस माँ को,
लाचारी और गरीबी से अभिशप्त!
शिशुओं कि क्षुधा माँ कि आंखों से अश्रु बनके उमड़ा है,
फिर भी मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है!!!

देखता हूँ उस पिता को,
झुके हुए कांधों पे जवान बेटी का बोझ!
दहेज़ के अभाव में अविवाहित रह गयी अपनी बच्ची के दुर्भाग्य से डरा है,
फिर भी मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है!!!

देखता हूँ उस विधवा को,
कल की नव विवाहिता के हाथों में अपने पति का शव!
इस छोटी सी उम्र में अकेली वह, अभी तो पूरा जीवन पड़ा है,
फिर भी मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है!!!

देखता हूँ उस नन्हें बालक को ,
हाथों में पुस्तक कि जगह चाय की केतली!
बीमार माँ की दवा के लिए अभी पैसा नही जुगड़ा है,
फिर भी मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है !!!

क्या करूं उस भिक्षु के लिए, उस माँ, उस पिता के लिए,
मुक्त करूं कैसे उस विधवा को, उस बालक को उनके कष्टों से ?
न जाने ऐसे कितने दुखों से भरी यह धरा है!
इसलिए मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है, इसलिए मेरा दुःख सबसे बड़ा है !!!

My gratitude to CRTI

CRTI or Cummins Research and Technology India, Pune is the company where I did my 2 months cumpulsory summer internship. The 2 months I spent at CRTI would definitely be the most memorable period of my life. I learnt so many things there about whose magnitude I am not sure of myself. To express my gratitude for the people there at CRTI, CFD division in particular, I composed and recited following poem in one of the several get-together parties they organise.

"CUMMINS is a good company",
I had always heard people saying.
To get a chance of internship there,
Since long I was praying.

A commendable project at CUMMINS,
Would take me to League Ivy.
Having this thought in mind,
I posted my CV.

Can't forget the day,
When I received the acceptance mail.
The river of joy came calling,
And my heart desired to sail.

Having all these aspirations
I joined CRTI.
To learn to the maximum,
Thought I would try.

ProE here, GAMBIT there,
I saw FLUENT everywhere.
Found marvelous hospitality,
Which, I must say, is really rare.

Learnt consistency, learnt perseverance,
Learnt tackling situations so strainuous.
Knowledgeable you, co-operative you.
You all are uniquely fabulous.

Thank you one, thank you all,
How grateful am I, I am unable to narrate.
You rock CRTI CFD,
You are simply great.

Is waqt mein hum tumhare saath hain!!!

Hanseen mausam mein jis tarah,khamoshi nahi,
hawa ke jhonke se patton ki sarsarahat achhi lagti hai.
Usi tarah chehre pe aapke udaasi nahi,
muskurahat achchi lagti hai !!!

Na ho koi insaan agar aashiyanein mein
To aashiyana veeran ho jata hai,
Na ho muskaan tere chehre pe
To yeh dil pareshaan ho jata hai !!!

Suna hai Dard-e-dil baantne se kam hota hai
Na baanta gaya agar to fir yeh sitam hota hai,
Aise ghamgeen palon mein hi to doston ko yaad kiya jata hai,
Mile har kisi ko ek dost yeh fariyaad kiya jaata hai !!!

Laanat hai us dosti pe
jozaroorat mein dost ke kaam na aa saki,
Moosibat mein pade dost ke dil mein
Aaraam na la saki !!!

Keh daalo aei dost
Dil mein tumhare jo baat hai,
Mauka ek humein bhi do yeh jatane ka,
Is waqt mein hum tumhare saath hain !!!

A Real Lesson

Exams were over. An ordeal came to an end. It was time to relax and chill. The very thought of going home was filling the heart with loads of excitement. Thrilled by this very feeling I went to the reservation counter in the institute only to see a 200 yard (apologies for exaggerating a bit) long queue of hopeful travelers. "Should I go for it?" the very question was knocking the doors of my brain but the scorching sun overhead had something else to tell. As always I was again not in a mood to drain out water from my body and so I decided to leave the anxious people in the queue behind me happier. I dint have the idea that a little (now I know it was not at all "little") bit of complacency on my part would lead to a hell lot of trouble later on. So what now?? Suddenly my intelligent brain showed me an alternative. The plan was to borrow the scooter of one of my friends in the evening and get the ticket booked at the station itself. The plan was not bad at all if it would have been implemented accordingly. But as usual the plan had to fail without coming out of my neural networks.
Thanks to the first years that came to our hall in the evening to deposit their belongings before going for the vacation. The faccha whom I gave the money to book the ticket for me, must have cursed me for harassing him after a frustrating stretch of exams.Anyways, I got my ticket and again as always the ticket was wait-listed. I was not at all worried at that time because every time I had traveled by this train I had managed to land in the wait list only. But never ever I had faced such a situation which I am going to describe in following paragraphs.
My train was scheduled at 11.45 in the night. So I had enough time to spend on other activities. Thanks to my project partners, I had to finalize the project all alone. So I had planned to finish the work before 5 pm and then pack my bags. Everything went fine except that the deadline of 5 pm couldn’t be met and I was able to sum up only by 8 30 pm. Somehow I managed to pack my bags within such a short span. As I was to go to Pune for my internship so a lot of preparation was needed. I had planned to gather a few books from my college mates, download some software, collect some e-books but none of them could be accomplished. Despite all these I was satisfied as I was going home and this very thought was overshadowing everything else.I finished all the preparations before 10 pm and since an hour was left before I was to leave for the station I thought that I should check my reservation status. This time also I was not much tensed upon knowing that the chart had been prepared and I was W/L 17. I was having an idea that as always this time also I would be able to manage a berth by offering a few bucks to the TTE. But hell, I was all wrong this time.
Train arrived and I rushed to the black coat the moment I found it in the crowded platform. Before I could utter a word another person started talking to the TTE with same intentions and the way TTE scolded that fellow I lost the interest of taking any chance there .So I started looking for a softer target. Thanks to my body language reading skills, I was able to find one fellow who was at least ready to listen to the passengers. In the beginning he also turned down my request and showed me the general compartment. Cursing myself for this situation I strode towards the general compartment. What I saw in those compartments deserve another post. I had 3 bags with me including the laptop and there was no space event at the gates. For a moment I thought I should cancel the journey but the "Never Say Die" attitude dint let me give up and I rushed to the same fellow again. This time the person was a bit softer and the moment I said I was carrying a W/L 17 ticket and I was an IITian, he permitted me in. This was not all, each and every seat was occupied inside the compartment. I don’t know why during these kind of journeys the people who manage to get a seat reserved generally have a very suspicious attitude towards other fellow passengers who couldn’t get one. I have noticed this attitude quite often and to be very frank I belong to the same brigade as well. The very empathy proved to be a source of a great experience. At 11.45 pm train left the station and I took a deep breath and thanked god as it was very necessary for me to reach my home the very next morning. As the train gathered momentum I was loosing my patience and was dying to sit somewhere. So I took out the news paper sheet which I had kept in my bag anticipating this situation, spread that on the floor, sat down and started reading "FIRST THINGS FIRST" by Stephen Covey. Reading a book in those conditions was really a different experience. A few minutes later the whole battalion of the railway police appeared before me and started interrogating about me but fortunately the TTE who allowed me to enter the compartment had already told them about me. I carried on with reading and had gone through three chapters when slumber came calling. Initially I was reluctant to do that but later on I surrendered. I spreaded the newspaper between the berths as a bed sheet, put my bag on one side, kept the laptop under a berth safely and then lied down. My dignity was not at all allowing me to sleep in such a condition but after burning all my joules since morning on the project I was not giving a damn to it. Though I reached home after facing all this, the trip made me learn several things viz. don’t hesitate from sweating in the sun for some genuine reason- had I stayed there in the queue for some more time I could have got the ticket, don’t be complacent- had I taken the scooter from my friend and gone to the station that very evening I would not have seen that situation in the train.

MERA BHARAT MAHAN

"MERA BHARAT MAHAN"... These were the first words which gushed out of my mouth when I saw yesterday's headlines. The story was about Jessica Lal who was shot dead in a bar on refusing a drink to a mindless creature. The verdict of the Court is out and all those who were accused are now free. Free to commit yet another crime coz they know they are in India where you have the license to commit crimes if you are wealthy or have some "contacts".
The logic behind the acquittal: the revolver which was supposedly used by the criminals was missing. What the hell!
What happens next? If the revolver is not recovered then the court's verdict would be "JESSICA WAS NOT MURDERED IN THE BAR “or rather "SHE WAS NOT PRESENT IN THE BAR THAT NIGHT ". The news will be in the media for a few days and then Jessica Lal will be lost in some files, only to be remembered as a murder case.
Every body in the party that night knows whose the killer but nobody has the guts to come forward and identify that bastard. Two of them had tried to show courage but again some kind of pressurizing turned them hostile. this is India where a witness can change his statement whenever he feels like no matter what may be the consequences. Our legal system is such a handicap that no action can be taken against a witness who turns hostile. In my opinion if this kind of situation arises where a case takes a different course due to the hostility of the witnesses and the accused are acquitted due to lack of evidences then first of all these witnesses should be booked for the crime and should be punished accordingly. You name and I shall show you that each and every case in India meets a dead-end mainly due to the hostility of the witnesses. The Best bakery case is another very good example.
Secondly, why can’t we have some more efficient organizations like CBI? I know that all such cases can’t be handled by CBI but I am sure that had the case gone in the clutches of CBI it would have successfully thrown the culprits behind the bars. This is where your "contacts" come into picture. If you have committed a crime and you are a relative of a minister or a beaurocrat you need not worry. I think this is the message the Indian Judiciary has sent by acquitting all the accused.

The case was registerd in 1999 and the verdict comes out in 2006. 7 years for one case...really amazing.

What does Jessicas's family get?: disappointments and frustrations.

What do culprits get? : another chance to murder an innocent and slap on the face of law.

Now I understand the significance of the black piece of cloth on the eyes of the statue symbolising Indian judiaciary system.