The story of humanity

'Honesty is the best policy'

Many a times we've heard them say,

Yet how baffling a travesty

We live, to see opposites hold its sway.

While true words are swept under the rug,

Headlines circled by the rings of coffee mug,

Incidents lie distorted, disfigured and maimed,

Debates ensue with no solutions gained.

While bribes are ripe, and justice blind,

The innocent thrives in a time unkind,

No cloud is marked by a silver lining,

The hearts are crushed, left forever pining.

As puffs of smoke darkens the core,

Crimes see a rise, with more blood and gore.

With philosophers of yester-years all proved right,

Homo sapiens resulting in his generation's homicide.

But does after the dark come the light?

The hope we harbour,the despair we slight,

Is it enough to make a wrong a right?

We strive, we believe and we fight

Day and night, to restore balance

To a civilization hanging precariously on chance.

As the dying century's death knell

Is heard closing the rotting generation's gamble,

Faith evaporates and Love bids farewell,

Nothing at all is well in this Hell... 

But...can the present put the past behind?

Can we still preach that forgiveness is divine?

Can we still slay greed and lust?

Can we not our morality turn to dust?

Can we rise like a phoenix after the fall?

Can the lusty youth hold up promises for all?

Of a mind lit brightly by the red of passion?

Of noise bathed solemnly in the calm of silence?

Of a reign of Honor, Compassion and Integrity?

Of a world where Honesty is still the best policy?

We dream of a change to alter the events...

Till then... we live and die, continue our existence.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Pre-marital blues

"Hey..you've got to buy this saree too...It's a part of the ritual where you have to place this on a plate adorned with flowers and a little sandalwood paste..and.." and my friend's voice droned on.

She had been married a year back. A modern pseudo-feminist otherwise, she has a surprisingly traditional take towards the institution of marriage. What is marriage? It seems to me now that it is a ceremony strengthened by lots of 'niyams'(rules). Non-compliance of rules isn't taken well by the in-laws(supposedly). Personally, I have never really bothered much about rules and regulations. I am more of a free spirit, difficult to be chained. Hence, when it came to the choice of a partner, I chose a like-minded fellow. But somehow, all free sprites turn mellow when it comes to marriage. I have no problems with adhering to a few rules. After all, rules at times add color to life and trying out something new doesn't harm...does it? But an overdose of rules is nauseating. More so when it is more emphatically enforced upon you by your friends.

Take this for example. "You need to gift your husband a suitcase. Buy only a branded suitcase. A V.I.P is a must. You must give them the 'pranaamis' in decorated plates called 'tatwas'. You ought to be very diplomatic with your in-laws...Say this and not that... You must buy many good sarees to wear after marriage..you can't be wearing your regular sarees after marriage.." and many more. I understand my friend's concern for me. She wants to 'prepare' me for life, cast me in the mould of conventions..to help me blossom into the perfect 'bahu'. But I am not she. I feel suffocated under the pressure of dos and don'ts. I am ME. And this 'me' is not a doll, does not enjoy dressing up , is casual about her style and cherishes the idea of a simple marriage and not the hullabaloo of The Grand Indian Wedding. And how on earth am I to explain it to them that it's my life, my wedding...which will happen my way?

In saying this, let me point out that owing to my radical views I have always been an outcast, at times even publicly humiliated by my so-called friends for not wearing a decorative outfit to an event celebrating their happy union (and not mine). But then again, at times I feel that I am too short-tempered to see the higher good of everything around me. Marriage after all is a social gathering, where families come together to celebrate a happy occasion. The conventional desire of every bride looking like a princess has been embedded so deeply in our minds that it is difficult for a mediocre-looker like me to uproot it and endorse everything simple. With marriage comes fanfare, and an array of everything loud and robust. This results in a show of extravagance, for it is strictly believed that it is a one-time affair, so one needs to put his whole into it.

Life is bitter sweet. One understands that better when one stands at the threshold of marriage. The bitterness of zillion rules overpower the sheer bliss of the concept of marriage. To me, marriage is not bondage but it is liberation. It is not conforming but paving way for a new life, a new beginning with the one you love and trust. It reasserts the moment when you made the choice, to share your life in health and sickness with this special person. This lovely feeling cannot be outweighed by number of 'tatwas' and sarees. It is a feeling that goes beyond the layers of bridal make-up. It is a day when our search for a companion concludes. It is a day when we move from "I" to "we". And that is a moment one needs to treasure.

I don't know what life has in store for me. But the fact that I will be getting married is sinking in gradually. It is indeed a necessary evil. Although I am not enjoying shopping for it unlike girls of my age(more so because my bank account statement is nearing a big zero), I am looking forward to the day with utmost excitement...to the day when I officially become a part of his life..for at heart we are already one...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

The Wedding Night

A strange feeling engulfs my soul

As I listen to the departing steps.

With soft giggles and a gentle caress, 

I am ushered into a room, where 'am put to rest.

Here I am to metamorphose,

Here I am to live the change,

Here I am to endorse

My new identity, my new surname.

What has changed in me today?

Do I cease to be the girl I was yesterday?

My thoughts are interrupted by the hushed tones

Of the flock outside awaiting the groom. 

Adorned in red of fine silk, with palms reflecting a deep maroon,

I sit and wait...wait for the anxiety to abate.

The stillness is broken by the fan's dreary drone,

The buzz of mosquitoes ring in a melodious tune.

The exhaustion I wear weighs me down,

The jewellery seems jaded that I unwillingly adorn.

The flowers lay scattered, my will broken,

I lower my eyes and offer a quick prayer to Heaven.

I hear the door open and close behind,

A sudden fright takes control, leaving me cold.

A strange figure, tall and turbaned takes my side,

My self quivers, while I try to remember what had been told

To me of such a night as when it would come,

Of mixed horror and pleasures, that it would summon.

I wanted no adventure, nor desired any thrill,

I was only a child of sixteen,wanting to live her share's fill.

Kuch waqt tanha...(a Hindi poem)

Kuch waqt tanha, kuch hum berukhe,
Kuch bheega sawan, aur hum jode umeedein,
Kuch hum yahan, kuch tum wahan,
Kuch lamha mayus, kuch hum muskarane chale.

Kuch khoye aashiyanon mein khoye se sapne,

Kuch bikhre se rishton mein dhoonde apne,
Kuch mann ke sukhe panno ki adhuri khwaishein,

Kuch aalam bebasi ka, kuch palchinn suhaane.

Kuch ankahi baaton mein khilkhilati zindagi,
Kuch bhoole bisre kahaaniyon ki meethi si dhwani,
Kuch kam, kuch zyada, woh kaanch sa waada,
Kuch humne tode niyam, kuch dagmagata iraada.

Leelao ki vibhinnata se pare hain aaj hum,
Chintan ki peeda se katraye, gum sum,
Mitti ki chuppi khalti hain, jalti hain angaaron si,
Kuch jwala ki aas mein khade, kuch bujhhe aangare hain hum. 

Those were the best days of my life...

Its very memory triggers a whirlpool of emotions,

With a quiet lingering smile evoking tingling sensations.

They escort me back to the years now half-remembered, 

When Friendship itself was a religion to be revered.

Life meant only school, and school meant friends alone,

When outdoors stood for running little errands for our home.

When school was for mischief : harmless and juvenile,

Where like-minded chaps were befriended with a smile.

The backbenches livened up with our muffled giggles,

And the recess saw us devouring each other's tiffins.

'Twas a place where secrets were sealed by a swear of faith,

'Twas a time when there wasn't any room for jealousy or hate.

A friend's win was our win, a friend's foe was ours too,

It was a time of high-fives, of sharing life in a classroom.

But then time flew past, we grew up... alas!

Simplicity took the back burner, remained sulking in a corner.

Responsibility became our priority,

Serious became our demeanour, 

With no space for frivolity,

Innocence was lost for ever.

Those little laughs were smothered,
Swept back in a chest without a key,

With experience the child got murdered,
In the healthy view of diplomacy.

Yet in lonesome hours,
Through a mistaken glance,
When I come by some children holding hands,
I wonder to myself where my friendship now stands...

The euphoric sight of ceaseless laughter and delight,
The satchel-laden boys' entering a mock fight...
Fills me with questions,
Fills me with pain.
For I realize all that I have sacrificed,
The friendship's lost in the bargain.

Today the ice cream cones have run dry,

There's no one to push our swings high.
The slides are dusty and moss covered,
The familiar voices are long forgotten, and muted.

There is no one to share a stupid laugh with,

We are 'grown-ups', and we have got to live like it.

While we ping or poke to revive the estranged chords,

A day like today gets us lost in sepia-hued thoughts

Of the moments we shared, of our spontaneity and fun,

Those were the best days of  my life!..that'll never return...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda