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Thursday, August 27, 2009

SHINY LITTLE BEADS...

We always notice them,
those shiny little beads,
falling from our eyes.

We see nothing before that,
nothing after that.

We never see the hurt eyebrows,
coming close to each other, contracting in space,
making the eyelids blink more.
What we always see,
are just those shtiny little beads,
called TEARS.

We never see the tragic frown,
formed on the forehead,
trying its best to hide the sadness.

What we always see,
are those shiny little beads,
called TEARS...

We never see the Adam's apple,
moving up and down,
fighting with the choked feelings,
trying its best not to show
those shiny little beads
called TEARS.

We see them flow out
from the edge of the eyelids,
flowing down in a line,
those shiny little beads
called TEARS.

But we never see the pale cheeks
carrying them,
which were red cushions because of smiles,

Do we see them
Those pale cheeks?

We never see the brave jawline,
on whose edge,
those beads balance themselves,
and then fall off,
disappearing into memories,
fading out
.
Do we see them?
That brave jaw-line?


We just see the loud sadness,
not the silent painwhere it comes from.

We see just the shallow scars,
not the deep wounds where they emerged from.

We see the sadness go,
and never wait to see the
wounds get healed.

We don't see the brows, the frowns,
the choke, the cheeks, the jawlines.

Never. Why?

We just see those shiny little beads,
called TEARS...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

ek-rekher of the day!

"Unfortunately...
we all know everything...except the act of saying 'I don't know'!"

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Monday, August 17, 2009

INTERESTING CO-INCIDENCE...

Sometimes, things in life are so well planned that you are left in awe of the 'person' who's designed it...

Last friday was 14th August. It was Janmashtmi, the day of MATKI-PHOD!

I had never been a part of the brave pyramid which tried breaking the Matki, tied metres above the ground level. This year,for the first time, I joined in. The place was just under my hostel and the people in the pyramid were young men like me.

It was fun...
Holding each other tightly to make a good base... standing on shoulders with unbalanced expectations... heavy drops of water falling from the sky, shaking the pyramid every now and then... all of us falling down and rising again...
It was fun!

We all started with it at around 11pm, and by 12 I was tired, hurt and exhausted. But still, there was something, which drove all of us to get up and try again.
May be it was the MATKI, or may be, it was just the fun of climbing up and falling down, with smiles we will remember for the rest of our lives!

We got down to work again, 10 people at the base, 6 on them, 3 on the third level and one man would go for the final blow! It was equally tough and more painful. But all of a sudden, I heard someone shout,
"It's midnight, HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!"
The phrase, changed everything. Between that mixture of men, mud, water and sweat, strange visuals crossed my mind.

I could visualise millions of youngsters throwing away their books and families just to join a struggle against an empire, which was as unapproachable as the MATKI above our heads. I could relate to their joy of making similar 'pyramids' with millions of hearts and stories!

My shoulders and my back ached because of the burden of men above me, but those visuals kept me still. It was magical! Such a magical co-incidence, that at the stroke of that midnight, i witnessed the pain and pleasure of that 'struggle'.

At 2:00 am, we finally broke the MATKI. We conquered it! When the MATKI broke, the whole pyramid collapsed. But this collapse, unlike the previous ones, had no pain. It had madness. We all jumped and danced, I hugged people whom I had never met before that moment. But it was that proud moment of 'WE' doing it, and not 'me' or 'you'

Out of nowhere, I could see those 'independence' visuals again. The people who had made that brave pyramid, 62 years ago, are no more with us.
We call them HEROES today. But we have started forgetting that big pyramid and the joy of breaking that big MATKI called independence was celebrated on this very land.

I guess it's time to make some new pyramids, as we have some new MATKIs waiting to be broken...

I am in! Anyone Game?

Monday, August 10, 2009

THE FIRST RIDE- a short story

“Get up boy, it’s 6:30 already!”

Shouted Pa. Vivek hated this line from Pa more than he hated the alarm clock. It was a pleasant Saturday morning, the fifth day of Vivek’s summer break from school.

With eyes half closed and feet trying to balance his body, Vivek reached the window. With his left hand he pushed it open. The lovely morning breeze entered Vivek’s hair. It refreshened him enough to open his eyes. The very smell of that breeze brought him back memories of his last summer vacation, when he was in class 3rd- going out for morning walks, watching ‘Disney Hour’, lying down on the floor with the cooler throwing ‘fresh’ droplets of water on his face, having those sweet yellow mangoes in the evening, playing cricket with one-tip-one-hand rules and...

“Vivek, you still not up? You’ll have to complete your ‘cycling’ thing today!”

Pa shouted again with a volume good enough to break those happy summer diaries of Vivek.

‘Cycling?’

Yes, that was one thing Vivek was trying to learn from the past one week.

After watching Mukul and Vinay cycle with ease, Vivek had decided that he would learn it too. Afterall, both of them were of his age, and not elders!

So, on the first day of the summer break itself, Vivek had started learning cycling, with some help from Pa.

Vivek washed his face, changed to his shorts and started putting on his shoes. While wearing his socks, Vivek wondered whether he still liked cycling the way he liked it on the first day.

Because of his successive ffailures to balance the bicycle, Vivek’s interest in cycling had decreased over the week. The only thing he had gained was injuries. He was so irritated of it now that he often wondered,
“Is cycling really important for a successful life?”

Vivek ran down the stairs and on the playground, he saw Pa holding the bicycle by its carrier. Like every day, he had held it with just one hand. Pa said, “Come on Vivek, let’s begin!”

It had been the same sequence of events from the past one week from Pa waking Vivek up to Vivek trying to balance the two-wheeled machine. And every day, Vivek went back home with a failure!

Vivek reached the bicycle and like an ‘expert’, he sat on it. And the day began for him...

Every morning, when Vivek cycled he used to keep looking at the kids playing around listened to the birds chirping. But he had noticed that from the past 2 or 3 days he had stopped looking at the kids and he rarely heard the birds’ chirping sounds. He somehow got involved in balancing the bicycle.


Today was no different. His hands on the handle were making sure that the handle’s not shaking and his legs were trying their best to keep the pedals moving.

Vivek wanted to ask Pa about the progress, but he couldn’t speak. It seemed that even his mouth was somehow involved in balancing the bicycle!

So to ask Pa, Vivek turned his head and Pa wasn’t there. It all happened so fast-
Vivek turned... didn’t find Pa...he got sccared... looked at the bicycle... looked ahead... could not believe it... everything went mute!

Yes, Vivek was cycling, with no help from Pa. He continued cycling. Vivek felt proud of each and every part of his body helping him cycle. He felt the triumphant fresh breeze of success entering the gaps between his hair. He slowly moved his head towards the kids playing and he heard the birds chirping away.

The next morning was a different one. Vivek woke up early. Afterall, he had to show his new ‘skill’ to Mukul and Vinay.

Pa had told Vivek that they won’t cycle on Sundays. Vivek brushed his teeth, wore his shoes, entered Pa’s room and saw that Pa was sleeping.
Vivek cleared his throat and with a smile, he shouted,

“Get up boy, it’s 6:30 already!”

© K. Harish Singh 2009

Monday, August 3, 2009

ASLEEP?

When do we sleep?
When do we get up?

What are dreams?
The ones we see while being asleep
or the ones we reach out for when are awake?
What are dreams?

What is peace?
The feeling of going deep into slumber
or that satisfying smile after helping a poor soul.
What is peace?

What is comfort?
When we lie down on a flat surface to close our eyes after a tiring day
or when we stand up and stretch after sitting on the same chair for the whole day?
What is comfort?

Are we asleep while being awake
or are we awake ahile being asleep?

The music which hums in the space,
is it because of the peaceful night,
or because of the feeling of succeeding in a day of HARDWORK?

What is more scary?
The nightmares we see while being asleep,
or the feeling of being LOST in a world where everyone KNOWS you?

We sleep to take a break from being awake,
and we wake up as we are TIRED of sleeping!

When do we sleep?
When do we get up?

When do we sleep...