Because Dreams Are Not Borrowed

I felt a certain enervation, not very long ago, in trying to somehow get myself the coveted comfort of a placement on campus. It can be quite baffling to any discerning eye to notice that security is central to so many people's thoughts. A predetermined course for the next several months is a much cherished accomplishment. So much so for public approval, that I brutally brushed aside my harping discontent.I was of course slightly bitter at the rather unexpected predicament of failing to land a job, when a hundred others from my own college made it.
It was exactly in such an unsure state of mind that I stumbled over a wonderful reference, Paulo Coelho's novel 'Alchemist'. I was amazed at the way it spoke to me in a such an intimate way.
The story of a young boy, in his aimless peregrinations and the sudden revelation of his destiny by persistent omens , left a deep impact on me. The Alchemist is undoubtedly one of the most beautifully written abstract work in recent times, littered with metaphors and free for interpretation. It felt like one book written just for me. The many disturbances and trifling dilemmas I had , were so deftly erased.The young boy, who left home with just one wish of traveling, is compelled to go looking for a treasure. Every time he attempts to leave the quest midway, the omens provide generous help, till the boy gets what he wanted and more. The book really isn't about the treasure at all, but more about the process of nearing it. It is about perception and learning. It is about identifying that universal soul and feeling one with nature.
I always wanted get into research, I groomed my interests that way and always thought I had it in me to be a scientist.Which is exactly what brought me to do my engineering. I was almost on the course.But today it means I would have to leave the safe confines of my home and the comfort of the known.I have to uproot myself from this environment and place myself in an entirely new place. I must turn my back to the corporate jobs, with their many temptations and security and set out to study elsewhere. Then there is this lingering sadness about leaving my mother and sister behind. A little while ago,I willingly laid carpets over my dreams and stayed content with wishful thinking.But the omens , were all there.
I dint clear the interviews that I actually worked for, but ended up doing really well in the tests that would assure me a place in a university, towards which I paid meager attention. I do not particularly believe in omens, but I am increasingly beginning to trust them. If they will lead me to my treasure I cannot say now. But at least I will not be the same person as the one I am as I set out to get it. I will have many things to learn. A character in the book says, "when you want something , all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it". This must be one of those many conspiracies.

Telugu Velugu

Last week, I saw the sun spewing gold onto the earth's bosom. It was ethereal. This time round, I felt more inclined to express in my mother language.I will not claim any proficiency in it,however.
It felt new and refreshing writing in Telugu, after getting so used to thinking and writing in English. Using a multilingual word processor, means that some traditional letters could not be included.But like Vikram Seth once said, inspiration is rare, so despite all the underlying excuses, I am unashamedly putting it up for all to see.

నీరెన్డ నిగనిగలు ఎన్తటి అన్దమొ
ఆ హరినడిగి తెచ్చిన సిరి కానుకలేమొ
సాయన్కాలపు సుస్వరాలు ఏ పక్షీ పలుకులొ
లేక గోపభామలు పాడిన మొహన రాగమొ
పాప బోసి నవ్వు చూసి మురిసిన
అమ్మ కనుసన్దున కాన్తిలా
విరిసిన్ది గోధూలి వేల
ఈ రవి వర్ణపు వేడుక

Tears Cannot Wet A Barren Land

A little soil, a little sky , a little water cannot become an earth. Putting together the elements will not inspire life. Normality cannot be achieved by perfection.Yet if any of these is found missing the results are jarring.
When the fake encounters by the police in gujarat and various other states came to fore, I felt betrayed by the very elements that constitute the society. Kausar Bi and Sohrabuddin would be lost in the newspaper archives, but the killing of innocents is symptomatic of a larger disease, a more virulent fear. The fear of being buthchered by the one we seek protection from.We neednt have the best laws, the most righteous officers or the most compliant public.What we need is to be humane.
I give vent in verse..........

The night clouds are menacingly low
I can sense their breath
Hitting hard onto my dank cheeks
It smells of a wild wolf.


I hear it howl again
It must be somewhere near
I only draw myself close
If only you were here...


I await your return nervy and strung
Its hard to take alone
The heat of prying eyes
I can hear only hoarse cries


I lisp my morning prayers
In a familiar shudder
The flowers in the garden are trampled away
The ground holds a print of paws freshly laid


Is that sound a howl again?
The wolf in its daytime prowl
Or why ,it is you !
Your footsteps altered and strange


You walk in and say nothing at all
Only put your lips to mine
And pay no notice to my asking eyes
I am left to see blood dripping from your scythe.


9.5.07

A Sleight Of Hand

He slid his hand over the nape of his neck and jerked his head sideways. It did not help. He still felt the discomfort. Last night’s violent head banging at the rock concert ended with the ‘stiffneck syndrome’. Ahmed walked down the stairs in a hurry; he had to be at the workplace by nine thirty, it was already nine. Suddenly he slackened his pace and hit his head; he remembered that his bike had to be repaired.

Inside the bus, after much ordeal Ahmed found place for his two feet. At this instant he came face to face with a man of particularly large features. His two eyes nearly seemed to gobble him up. The man somehow couldn’t contain his curiosity and lounged his hand forward and turned the ID card around Ahmed’s collar. Having read it, he let out a sigh and lifted his eyes from the card to Ahmed’s, now filled with a certain severity. The man in reply gave a sheepish smile. The annoyed owner placed the card back into the pocket. The conductor now came this way and in his usual brusque style said,
” Aah, ticket”. Ahmed dug his hands into his pocket, hanging onto the rod with another. He handed the conductor a 100-rupee note. The conductor frowned,” chutta dena, arey change.. change dena”. The man however never once took his eyes off Ahmed, who brought out his swollen wallet and opened it. Stacked inside were fresh 500 rupee notes. The one of lowest denomination was the one he offered the conductor. After the transaction was done and he pocketed his 5-rupee ticket with the due written on it, he looked up, sensing a stare. The other man raised his eyebrows and gave a sinister smile. Ahmed quickly changed his wallet from right to the left pocket.
A nasty drop trickled down his temples and Ahmed could feel the dampness under his ears. He once nearly lifted his hand to push away his long locks of hair falling onto forehead and refrained, the man kept looking and it filled him with certain wariness. “Hmm so you are Dhoni’s fan “, the man pronounced, startling Ahmed who only smiled.
“I can tell that from your hair”, he continued. Not wanting to converse Ahmed turned his eyes away. ”It is looking good anyway “, the man quipped, hoping a response. This brought a smile onto the face of our young traveler.
Standing a little in front of them was another guy, who couldn’t help smiling too. He did not sport long hair nor did he seem the kind but there was a certain endearing gentleness to him and Ahmed did not mind a conversation. “Swayam”, he said making the first move. “ Ahmed”.
“Heading where?”
“Cyber towers, I suppose you’re going there too.” Ahmed replied looking at Swayam’s ID.
He flashed a smile revealing a charming dimple on his left cheek. The other man meanwhile grew restless and kept jostling the guy beside him. “Have been to yesterday’s show?” Swayam asked.
“Man, Sledge rocked” Ahmed exclaimed and this reminded him of his neck. Instantly he put his hand to his neck, when he felt a movement behind him and spun around to see that the man was fidgeting, trying to get hold of a seat just vacated. Ahmed breathed free as there was more room to stand now. A little later the man got down, with an utterly bored expression.
The imposing structure of Cyber Towers came into view and Ahmed realised he had to ask for his due.He signaled to the conductor , who came around and with a twitch of the eyebrow and an open palm asked him for the ticket. Ahmed casually put his hand into his back pocket, his jaw dropped and he looked at the conductor in askance and disbelief. His wallet was gone!
" I knew he would do it! I should have taken care" ..Ahmed rued. Swayam looked on sympathetically. The conductor threw a ' who asked you to carry so much, now pay for it' look and left.
Swayam got down too, feeling rather unsure about the morning, and took out the wallet from his pocket. He opened it and found inside a perfumed letter written on handmade paper.


You must be surprised to find this. You don’t know me yet, but
I’ve known you for quite some time now. I wish to meet you
in person. I hope you will not disappoint me.
See you at seven this evening. Waiting for you.


With loads of love,
Surabhi.
Plot no9,
Walker Street,
Abhinavnagar.

Swayam was puzzled. It was a long time since he got a letter of this nature. He smiled, for certainly he would go tonight.

There was an eerie calm in the street. The lampposts did little to make it more tolerable. Plot no9 was at the end of the road with one window facing it. It was a dimly lit room on the first floor and the silhouette of a woman could be seen, putting colour to her lips.
Swayam walked into the house, took the stairs to the upper floor. It was pitch dark, He felt the wall on his left and switched the light on. While still walking, he removed his denim coat and stretched his arms. He pushed open the second of the two doors in front, and threw himself on the beanbag. The lady jerked at his arrival and gave a wide smile
that was retracted in an instant. She stood there galvanized, blinked at him plainly and the colour from her face was gone. In a few seconds she collected her nerves, and smiled again.

He did not squirm in his place. He lay on the bag still staring upward. She walked towards him throwing her stole on the floor, and said, “so you have kept yourself busy”
“So have you, placing things in people’s pockets and..” he cutoff curving his lips in a crooked smile.
“So you have taken a fancy for Ahmed”
“Or did I? ’ She dropped her arms around him from behind, slipped her hands into his pocket and said, “ and I thought you stopped picking pockets”
He laughed aloud and the gold tooth on his upper jaw shone brilliantly.

Back again!

Its been really long since I stopped blogging. To be precise, a little over a year. One whole year sped off and I only blinked! Its nice to be writing again and putting it here for all to see...
The last six months were nothing short of an upheaval. Placements, exams, gre made life less likable. And then there were a few firsts, long delayed.
No company risked taking me in, so far. Sometimes it was the written test and sometimes the interview. Nothing much to lament about. My first interview lasted for ah..em .. five minutes. There were not many questions and there were no wrong answers as such. Only my interviewer had to extract it from the mumble jumble that I heaped on him. I never knew my shoulders could droop so much.
The rest of it went well. The exams were fine and my GRE score was a real bumper. The 1430 score, seriously unexpected, changed things drastically. I anticipated nearly every turn in life and expected things to be more or less predictable , now that I am jolted out of this, I am glad there is more of the unexpected.
The surprising offshoot of this is the public attention, which took me by more surprise than my score did. There were a few bets about the score and well , for now I am happy shaking hands.
To start off with my blogging ventures, this time I am going to post a story, which I had written a year ago.
Hope you like it.