NavDharmyug

The trip was marred by usual dilly-dallying, and frustration arising out of it and sense of pathos running under, which has been the leitmotif of my life. So the packing done last moment, in the night after watching the unbearable movie "Rock star" in spite of some excellent music. The flight was at 3:30 AM at the unearthly hour. A smooth flight with British Airways with Parathas on the first leg, and none of the nonsense regarding the luggage with which people scared me. A Limo on the Porch of The Venetian Reached the land of the Queen, in the morning, had some nightmarish expectation of Heathrow, but unlikely it was pretty big, and nice and systematic. Breakfast options were as limited as they are in the US, so it was Milk and Cake for me. Left UK by around 10:45, with a flight which was on time.Reached Las Angeles some time which seemed like evening, and then with American Airlines to Las Vegas in the evening. Immigration done there, with a quick check out and check ...

It is not very easy to bookmark life. We do not know if a moment is going to add significant value till the time, it plays its role in full. We could be happy, angry, excited and even dead in a moment, but we have no way of knowing it till the moment passes us by rudely brushing past our shoulder. Therefore, this had to be written, in the middle of all the packing yet to be done for the travel to Vegas and slight slip in the annual sales target. Have been a very hectic fortnight, starting with Chhath in Patna. Time has passed, last Chhath I attended was when I was in School. Going to the Ganga at the break of the dawn in trucks was great fun. It is always comforting to know that you are a part of something larger than your person. This was the first time with family in tow, and it was fun and cherishing to watch Nonu play with all the children of the extended family. It was mind-boggling fun that kids seemed to be having, running around in circles and shouting the references of Ra-On...

No matter how much we would want to credit ourselves with what we achieve or perceive to have achieved in life, truth of the matter is..it is about right timing. You almost save yourself from falling on to the lovely girl coming out of the classroom, catch the hidden sideway glimpse with which the heart almost collapses, attend and miss an interview and land where you are right now, with a laptop, writing a blog, for two reasons, One to take a hit on the contest, first blogging contest you participate and then to take out the frustration out of series of bad timings which off late has plagued your life. Of the first of the two reasons, this is the first blog I am writing with a contest (Samsung Galaxy Tab contest on Indiblogger) on the mind, if not for anything else, just to explore if the contest is not sponsored by some Mugabe with Nigerian cousins with some ill-gotten wealth. The second most pronounced reason stems from the minor financial set-backs I have encounter, w...

Death carries a strange ring with it, a ring of cruel truth, like a plain, transparent glass, cold and cutting at the same time. What makes a death particularly painful to look at is that is in someway represents an hourglass, with sand smoothly shifting down to the lower cell, irrespective of all the intent in the world screaming to hold the moment. The moment never holds back, time passes, and people who we assume were to never grow old, tired and out of our lives, do end up doing precisely that, getting old, getting tired and getting out of our ( and in process, their own) lives. Art manifests in many forms. Sometime it is a piece of literature, a ravishing or disturbing painting, a technological masterpiece or a sound of velvety texture which wraps itself around out painful existence, in the divine embrace of which we go to sleep and we sleepwalk across the fire stewn paths of life, intoxicated by the art. I have included technological masterpiece into art here, as one most rece...

Nonu has now stepped out of the protected home environ and it has been a fortnight since she has been attending her play school . She is happy with the experience that she is getting, unhindered by watchful eyes of the parents.  There are certain memory cues which we all hold so dear to our inner circles of thoughts for all our lives. Those are not very significant things, usually not the things which we anticipate that we will remember. For instance, I remember, the strange smell of new books I got at the start of the session, the collection of phantom comics, the feel of sunlight falling over me as I would climb on the rooftop to complete assignments in Kanpur during winter vacations in class fourth, or the story told by father of Androcles and the Lion, lying hurt after putting my foot into the wheels of the bicycle.  No one can predict, what are the visions, colors and lights and shades that the child will carry into her maturity. We just spend moment of togetherness...

The are certain seasons of particularly cheerful and colorful disposition and then, there are some gloomy and bleak ones, apart from some which are terribly nostalgia inducing. Each season is marked by its own hue and color, and these colors are what we in our minds paint them with. The promise of the splendor of the Sun and birds chirping will hold good only in the event when we decide to look at the sunlight leisurely lying on our terrace, across the flowers with fondness and grant some attentiveness to the birds chirping some attention. And we have no way of knowing if we will be able to do it TOMORROW.  The world changes so quickly that we have absolutely no way of knowing how we are going to respond to it in a moment from NOW. Just a moment back you could be feeling all powerful, and sudden turn of events could turn you back in to Human, all too human and alas, too human.  By the time the last week was limping towards its closure, I got my daught...

बरसते हुए मौसम में तुम याद बहुत आये शाम की चादर में सब मौसम घर आये याद आया वो खिड़की पे मचलता पानी शोख नज़रों से तेरी ओर ताकता पानी वोह शाम की मुंडेरों पे नन्ही चिड़िया और एक नन्ही परी घर से निकलती दिखी पानी भरी गलियों में अंगूठे से पत्थर तलाशती और नटखट छींटों से दामन बचाती जाती पुस्तकें एक हाथ में और जूते भी ऐसे पंजो पे चली जाती थी तुम जैसे अपने पैरों में पड़े दिलों की खैरमंद हो तुम क्या तुम्हे याद है नुक्कड़ पे साईकिल पे बैठा लड़का जो तुम्हे देख के अक्सर लड़खड़ा के गिर जाता था बालों को संभालता था उलटे हाथो से और यूँ तकता था ऐसे तुमको जैसे वक़्त के सिलसिले का आखरी लम्हा तुम हो जैसे हर रात सुबह को हसरत से तकती है जैसे एक अज़ान लहरा के आसमा की जानिब उठ्ठे क्या तुम्हें कुछ ज़रा याद आता नहीं है क्या तुम्हें वो भूलना भी याद आता नहीं है मुझे तुम आज की बारिश में याद बेशुमार आये और मुझे याद आया की कितना तनहा में हूँ