THE AFTERNOON RAINS

Solace is a kind word
in a gruesome world,
surrounded by wounds
of forgetful truths,
besieged with guilt
of vice and filth!

How deceiving can life be!
All lies were covered in
one single coffin buried deep
in the mind's blurring sea.
All I have done right
are the wrongs, I suppose:
I went in for many a fight,
I lost not, death was close!

I cannot undo my deeds.
In karma I place my beliefs!
The first afternoon rains
clap for my claims:
the beats on the roofs
like horses' matured hoofs
urge me to lull into solace,
a kind word I fear to face.
Death can be kind too,
pay a visit without a clue,
I shall depart then without a fuss
if that's what kind karma wants!

HOPEFUL MOURNINGS

Dawn of hope
from the hilly slope
brought the skies,
blue, bright and white.

Sunrays warm,
warmed her heart:
that filthy germ,
well, could not hurt!

Doctors and pills
ate up her bills,
she borrowed breads
from the newly weds.

Scarce milk,
no fried beans
and she screamed
like, in bad dreams.

Was this fair?
Death in the air,
life smelt rare:
all grief and fear.

Deceptive time
shows its might-
only a month,
all crushed and burnt!

WARCRY

The war isn't mine,
it is as old as the wine,
old as the cuckoo's song:
Spring's back, see the morn.

Swords and shields,
bows and javelins
fill my armory fast.
Warcries and songs,
big drums and horns
adorn my batallion vast.

I chose this fight.
I know what's right.
History may turn old.
I'll stay strong and bold.
I bear no fear,
unto victory I steer.
Death is but an illusion.
This war is my salvation!

TRUTH OF LIFE

Mishra Ji is the most popular priest in the colony, because he does rituals for the poor too. He doesn't accept a coin from them.

That day, Mishra Ji's daughter, Rittika, was getting married. He was happy but his instants of joys were interrupted by impulses of sadness as he sat infront of his wife's photograph. He moved his fingers over the photo as if he could feel her, and tears rolled down his face. Rittika was not just his daughter, but, she was like a mother to him. From breakfasts to medicine, she took care of everything. Now, she is leaving, and Mishra Ji felt strange.

But he must tell her the truth now. He is already in his late sixties. God may send his messenger anytime soon. Anyway, he was contented with his life. He has got the best of joys, and a beautiful angel in Rittika. 

But, how shall he approach her?

If she breaks down?

If she never forgave him?

How will he live his remaining days with her anger?

It was his fear of letting her go that he did not disclose this to her.

But this wasn't the time to think for himself. She deserved to know. Mishra Ji kept the photograph on the table. He was beginning to stand up when Rittika entered the room.

"Papa, what are you doing here? My friends wish to greet you. And uncle has arrived. He looks superb!"

Saying this, she heartily laughed. She was happy.

"Beta", Mishra Ji uttered.

"Yes, Papa. Are you feeling okay? Ah! Do not tell me you forgot the meds."

"No, Beta. I am fine. I need to tell you something."

"Papa, I know. Every father speaks to his girl before the marriage. You've already told me those ideal advice. You worry so much."

Rittika's joys made things difficult for Mishra Ji. He simply smiled.

"Ok. Let's go now. They are waiting." Rittika was in a hurry.

Mishra Ji chose not to speak. But then...
"Beta, listen to me once. It is important." insisted Mishra Ji with a voice of reluctance.

Rittika paused. This did not seem the usual talk.

"Yes, Papa." She held his hands.

"Beta, this is one thing I have been trying to tell you since long. But I hope today is the time to speak the truth to you. You deserve to know."

"Yes, Papa."

"Beta...you are not our biological daughter. You were adopted. But, I promise this adoption never came in the way of loving you more than my daughter. I know you must be..."Mishra Ji could not complete his words and broke down.

"Papa," Rittika said in a calm tone,"I know that." And she smiled.

Mishra Ji was shocked. He just looked at Rittika and spoke nothing.

"Papa, Maa told me on her deathbed. She asked me to look after you and never to let you know that I know this."

Mishra Ji listened.

"I have never felt anything different from being your daughter, Papa. In fact, I am fortunate to get someone like you and Mom. The adoption is only a piece of paper for me, nothing else. Your parenthood is more than anything I know. I love you both, and I am your daughter. There is no alternate truth in that."

Mishra Ji felt like salvation. He felt proud of his little girl.

"So, now, Pundit Ji" Rittka said cheerfully, "You set aside these stupid thoughts because Ballu has already started stealing the ladoos from the kitchen. Aunt Misi is troubling the cooks for not putting extra flour in those bhatures, and I am going mad at Simpi for not bringing my earrings on time. You have a hell lot to catch up with."

Mishra Ji hugged his daughter.

He adjusted his dhoti and shouted,"Ballu. I will lock you up in the store if you do not stop stealing."

Notes (for non-native speakers): 

1. ladoo: round Indian sweet made with various ingredients.

2. dhoti: a white piece of Indian wear for men, used to drape around the body down from waist to legs.

3. bhature: flour made round flat pieces, oil fried.

THE PROFESSOR'S DREAM

June 12, 2019

Prof. Verma walked with a gentle pace to attend to the doorbell. There was a young man standing with a folder in his hand and wide smile on his face.
He bowed down to touch the professor's feet, and said, "Sir, this is Sohum Koushik, Batch of 2012, Mechanical Engineering."
"Please come inside. Although I can recall not much, but it is nice to see you again."
"Sir, I understand that. I was not the brightest in class. Managed to get one point above the average." smiled Sohum.
"Ah! It is fine. Grade points do not matter if you have ideas. Finally, if you are satisfied enough to have a peaceful cup of coffee in your retirement days, it means you have done good on this planet." The professor laughed.

"Sir, this is why I admire you. That is why I have come here to see you. Mother says that the one who teaches the principle of life is someone you must always be grateful to." said Sohum.

"Oh! I feel so great. What do you do now? IT or core?"

"Sir, I have co-founded an organization with my friend. We develop machines for organic farming right from sowing to harvesting. We have co-operative societies which provide these on minimal rent to traditional farmers. Later, the products are sold online and offline. Our organization provides the online platform at zero cost."

"Wow! I feel proud of you, son. You are giving back in a nice way."

"All credit to you, Sir. During our final semester, you had asked if each one of us had decided on our next journey. I could not answer you then. I skipped this in the feedback form too. Everyday I fought with myself to get this answer. You had said that one day each one of us would know the purpose of our dreams. I had no dream back then. But that day came to me and I could finally decide what suited me. I have prayed since then that I shall meet you to thank you for those words. This brought me here."

Prof. Verma's eyes moistened with pride. He felt his life fulfilled. He said, "Thank you for your feedback, my son! This is the best till date."

KERALA COFFEE

How pleasant were those evenings
spent in solemn peace,
you by my side with the Kerala coffee
warmed on the earthen stove!

Fries with a pinch of salt
tinged our tongues and soul,
Your eyes beamed with dawn
as we forked on the same prawn.

What was it you kept saying?
Wish we could live for days
in the Island of the Unknown,
fishing on the love newly born.

I still enjoy being in your arms,
the evenings are still pleasant.
I will cook our fries today.
We will have Kerala coffee again!

WASHED AWAY

Sanjana started walking fast. She had not expected the rains so soon although she had come across some forecast of drizzle during night hours. The wind slapped hard across her face, and her clothes were dreadfully drenched.

"What an evening!" she thought. The day had already troubled her much. Now the rains...

Somehow, she brought herself to a bus stop. She sat on the bench, and tried to dry herself with the little white towel she drew from her bag. After a minute, she stopped trying, and simply sat there.

The air was still blowing hard but she felt a sense of peace. She stopped thinking of her clients at the office and paused her boss' instructions in her head. She ignored the thoughts of her failed motherhood and the society's ugly remarks. Back in her mind, she omitted everything that would make her weak.

Sanjana was beginning to like the rains. The rains which she was cursing a few minutes ago now seemed to accompany her. Kisses of the wind made her feel better. She must be thinking of good things. Good things always make life better.

Just then, her phone rang.

The other side spoke, "Sanju, how long? I have cooked pakodas. Come fast."

Sanjana smiled, "Yes, my dear. Reaching in 30 minutes." and hung up.

The rains made her realize that life is full of good things, just like the rains, a plate of pakodas and her dearest chef: her husband!

The rains washed away her pains that evening!

WHAT NO ONE TALKS ABOUT!

Just to save you time, this post is going to be short as it reflects on what we have not done in the past few years, jeopardizing the preservation of our Indian-ness, some way or the other. This 'Indian' thing, we are beginning to lose now. 

We are so accustomed to those social media posts on religious clashes, judging one another through someone else's eyes, attacking religions and retaliating with equal abuse, that we have lost the urge to discuss positive aspects on what this country is built of.

No one talks of the herbs of India. I bet the new generations are unaware of the types of medicinal plants which our grandmothers loved to cook. This may seem boring and all the more, less-broccoli-ish to you, but, this country has hundreds of herbs and greens which are native to this soil. I am not asking you to boycott restaurants and bars...no, no, I do not have a nationalist propaganda here. I write this as a common Indian. Frankly speaking, I do not myself know most of the names of these plants, but, this lockdown has exposed me to this thought that amidst all the clamour for rights and politics, we didn't have time to preserve this. My mother cooks some of the finest dishes using the local herbs and plants. These are delicious, which make me wonder often if these can be promoted. Of course, they can be. Well, do not look at these from the perspectives of Ayurveda. I know most of you are more inclined towards the matchstick culture rather than the earthen lamp culture. You need faster results. Take these as way of your food habits. Logically speaking, this doesn't even need to be invested upon: these are foods which can help achieve a balanced diet than most of the things on the counter outside. It is nature's gift to this land, and we are too westernized to know of them.

In the fights and riots for temples and mosques, we forgot to discuss about the architectural beauty of these monuments. We must have done educational tours to some of these places, but, perhaps, there is more we can do. Yeah...it is archaeology, I know, but there are pretty interesting things to extract from the designs of these structures. Everyone is awestruck when they see the marbles and granites in/on these monuments, but how many of us really wish to learn more of these? Not much of allied research is done on these structures. How many mobile applications have people built, which can explain simulated working of the structures at Jantar Mantar? Have you ever thought of these?

Probably, there are other examples of such kind. But, I have found these to be the most relevant. We need to talk to our children of these things. We need to speak to them of the marvels. As parents and citizens, we need to embed these into the bedtime stories. This land is blessed with the capabilities to learn from many cultures. Do not throw away any of them. It is never too late. We can still motivate ourselves to know what has made this country strong and beautiful.

LOCKED DOWN, NOT PUNCHED DOWN!

This post is in reference to What are you doing in this lockout ? Housework ? Creative activities ? Praying ? hosted on IndiBlogger. I thank the blogger who has hosted this thread.

This question is one of the most popular questions now, and has been put up by many platforms including TV channels. But, I am glad that this has been taken up on the blogging platform, because it reaches out to more people and most importantly, the content stays on the web.

I love explaining things (you got to forgive a teacher), but here, I shall move in points, rather than continuous content.

#1: Teaching! The lockdown must have vacated the colleges but has not stopped teachers from teaching and students from continuing their studies. I have been preparing video lectures for two engineering undergraduate courses, and sharing them with my students since the lockdown has started. Now, teaching online is extremely different from classroom teaching, because, you are talking to the screen in front, and you need to keep track of time. I do not prepare long lectures because students may face problems while downloading them, keeping in mind that the students come from various places across the country! If you ask me the experience, well, it feels good when students ask doubts through e-mails. A student's doubts are the biggest gifts for me, because it means he/she has gone through the lecture(s) carefully!

#2: Research! Being in the profession of engineering education, research is an integral part of self-improvement, and professional contribution to the society and country. I have consistently attempted at continuing my research with limited resources. I do not wish to talk technical here, but, I hope this is something directly related to the society. I, along with my students and a colleague, am designing a system which can judge the overall protein content in chicken egg albumin (egg white) and cow's milk using instantaneous electronic properties. This shall help the beneficiaries of the healthcare sector (women, children, sportsperson and the elderly) or any domain where food proteins are important. We hope to design an affordable device so that it reaches the common men. Positive results indicate a big 'yes'! 

#3: Household Works! I have been helping around the house, cooking a meal (am not a bad cook) and cleaning stuffs, now and then. I have selected a prayer book from our temple, and am thinking of digitizing it, because the book was written long ago and has worn out. Currently, it is unavailable in the market, and was published locally. Unfortunately, the author expired years ago. Written in my mother tongue, I think it is essential not to lose a book as such, which can act as a helping hand to many. I urge you to take up such activities using your scanner, and recreate worn-out books of traditional value. This will be a tribute to the authors.

#4: Magazine! We, a group of guys, had started an online magazine way back in 2014. We had kept the objective of uplifting new and young writers. The magazine is ad-free and entirely non-profit. It has worked like magic since we started! All of us belong to different professions and are working at different locations, but this is one bond which brings us together. You may read the magazine at: http://guwahatian.guwahaticity.in/. So, I have been busy now and then in preparing the next issue of the magazine.

#5: Blogging! Since I have been maintaining this blog for long, I have got some time now for adding content which is not otherwise possible during full-time working days. IndiBlogger is a perfect platform to read and respond to new content. Free from negativity around, it feels good create a new post.

The post ends here, but, your responsibilities do not.

I request you to act sensibly, and not propagate hatred of any kind during this CoVID-19 outbreak. The whole world is watching, and as Indians, all you can do is to refrain from commenting on stupid posts, sharing videos which may spark communal imbalance, holding rallies, moving outside without good reasons and creating ruckus of any kind. Before you do something, just think of the doctors and nurses who had not had a proper meal for long. Imagine the plight of the policemen. Some may be corrupted or you must have seen improper behavior from them, but they are out on the streets ensuring that we are inside. 

Thank you for reading this.

Jai Hind!

WHERE DO YOU BELONG?

Image by garyandrews from Pixabay

Where do you belong,
my warrior?
The restless winds
are here
seeking answers to
your sins
the borders impose
on your skin.

The blood you've rinsed,
the cuts you've cleaned:
how many confessions
have amputated your beliefs?

Hell is only six feet long,
three feet wide:
therein lies the peace
for which we fight,
death is like 
a poet's rhyme
there is a meter
but no lyrical time!

You are a hero,
my warrior!
You are a gem
of a kind!
No sins you possess,
the borders, witnesses!
Swords kill the skin,
not the might.
The legend stays.
We toast and smile!