We're all gonna be there one day...

I don't know about other countries but in our country, we are shamefully disrespectful of the old. Everyday, as I travel to office, I see pale, weak, graying old men and women pulling handcarts, working as coolies, selling petty wares on the footpath and I do not dare look them in the eye. We look at them with disgust and sometimes pity and walk hurriedly past by.
Their soiled, torn clothes, their weak hands and legs tear my heart apart. But the most pitiful, pathetic, sad part is the look in their despondent eyes, one which seems to ask every passerby, "Why after a life of hard work, do I have to bear these last days slowly rotting, deprived of the dignity which I deserve?" And that is just one question. It's as if they are waiting eagerly for their last and final flight into the other world. 
The government for one, has done precious little beyond announcing schemes which never go beyond the files in which they lie under layers of dust. No arrangement for them to spend their last days with dignity and peace. The less said about it, the better.
But what is it that we as citizens people do to alleviate their pain? Mind you, they don't need our sympathy, they ask for respect and dignity. Let's start by giving them a smile and a polite nod every time we pass one. There's much more to do than just that, but that'll be a good start.
And lastly let's remember, we're all gonna be there one day too... 

On the luxury of silence...

One of the things that has become scarce or rather impossible to get apart from a lot of good things is silence. And by silence, I mean, absolute silence. One in which even a pin falling or your own breathing could be heard clearly. And sadly, we don’t even notice the lack of it like we do in case of an electricity black out and complete darkness.

Everywhere we go, there’s noise. There’s the cars and other vehicles passing by, honking  incessantly and quite unnecessarily, the loud speakers from the street, people quarrelling, dogs barking, the radio or mp3 player playing good but at times unwanted songs, and how can I forget the absurd amount of time we spend talking on our mobile phones.

Even the nights are not spared of their share of noise. And then we spend extra money buying silence. Every other new residential scheme advertises “a haven of peace and tranquil”, “a place where the only sounds are those of the flowing river and the cuckoo singing”, etc. 

Yes. We need silence. To spend a moment in introspection. To let the mind drift into thoughtlessness for a moment. To just give a moments complete rest to our senses. To just calm down and hear ourselves breathing. I mean, we can close our eyes but we can’t close our ears, can we? And I’m just glad to get my much required dose of it on my treks.

Silence today is a luxury, only a few can afford and which all of us could do with a little more than what we’re getting these days. Silence is healing. No wonder the girl on the poster in our doctors’ waiting room says “Sshhhh……” 

A little monsoon poetry...

Now, I write a little poetry every now and then, and what's a poet who hasn't written a poem on the rains. :D And despite the rain gods not really seeming to be in a very benevolent mood this season, the first shower nonetheless, brings with it all the freshness of the forthcoming monsoon season. And like I said, I just couldn't stop myself from putting together a collection of words rhymed with great difficulty, something I would like to call a poem, and something I hope, my readers will agree with. So here goes...

A bright sunny afternoon turns into grey,

A strong gusty wind starts blowing away.

The parched earth gives out a sweet fresh scent,

And the light drizzle suddenly turns into a torrent

The dry thirsty village welcomes it with glee,

The hope of a good crop in its eyes you see.

The city streets get flooded with the sudden gush

And busy looking street folks for shelter, they rush.

Children in the streets go splashing about,

They jump and laugh with joyful shouts.

The grown up folks for shelter run,

Though secretly they wish they could join the fun.

For some it’s a blessing, for the poor it’s a bane,

With their homes washed away, they’ll start over again.

All that it takes is one heavy shower,

And it leaves their lives, changed forever.

The romantic ideas of dancing peacocks,

Of singing koels and life sprouting on rocks.

For the city these ideas are just fiction,

A hopeless idea of a poet’s imagination.

So many emotions the rains bring with them,

 They come and go, and nothing’s ever the same.

By the window, I think as I sit and see,

What do the rains really mean to me?

On a rainy day and the "pain" of city folks

It was a good day yesterday. After two dry months, the rain gods finally showered us with their blessings and brought a ray of hope in the gloomy hearts of thousands of farmers and crores of people worried about an impending drought.

On one side, there were happy sighs from my family and a lot of my friends. And on the other, were the smart alecs on Facebook posting disgruntled comments about how just a day of rains spoiled their clothes and caused them so much pain.

Its painful to see city folks being so ignorant, so blissfully unaware of what’s happening to their countrymen outside the comfort of their air conditioned homes and offices. We take the water flowing from our taps, the foodgrain and vegetables in the shops and market for granted, little knowing that it has taken a lot of pain and effort in producing them and the sons of the soil who feed us, go through hell just making ends meet and lead a meaningful life.

I pray for 2 things today, firstly for more rains and a good monsoon and secondly for my friends in the city to become more sensitive and aware about our country and our fellow countrymen.

On the beauty of a moonlit landscape

I wonder how many of my city born and brought up friends have had the good fortune of watching a moonlit landscape on a full moon night. I'll tell you, it's absolutely beautiful!!!
One of the advantages of an otherwise tiring sales job is the travel. My job has taken me to or through many remote villages and some really beautiful terrain through the majestic Sahyadris.
Travelling once from one such place in the rickety State Transport bus, I saw a dry mountain valley with a few small huts and a small serene lake lit by nothing but the soft moonlight.
The soft, gentle light wrapping everything in its cool glow, the whole scene, so perfectly lit, not too bright and yet bright enough to let you walk without requiring a torch. So enchanted was I, looking at it, that the headlights of vehicles passing by seemed an ugly intrusion into the peaceful picture.
I felt like getting down the bus and walk to the top of the mountain and sit and just watch till the first ray of dawn ushers in a new day.
Although I couldn't do it then, I'll recommend it to everyone who ever gets the chance.

On the limits of technology

Whatever happens, technology can never replace human touch, voice and emotion. 

I'm not against it (how else could I write this blog and reach out to so many people without spending a rupee ;-) ), but here's what happened. Was chatting with a friend online and both of us used a lot of those smileys (J) and every time I felt, how different it would be to talk to him over the phone, hearing his voice, his laughter, anger, every emotion so vivid, so clear.

Technology really falls short here.

And then ofcourse, nothing beats the pleasure of sitting with your friends, over a hot cup of chaay or coffee, swearing at each other, joking, pulling each other’s leg and giving high fives!!

Lets not forget “the human touch”…

A pompous introduction

I was told by a friend that to start a blog, one has to write one's own introduction... and i thought, well... how pompous!!! And I'm still struggling trying to think of an apt introduction for myself.
Anyway... considering the need for people to understand and connect with the vain stuff I write about, I guess I'll have to go through the motions... so, here's how i would (humbly) describe myself.
I think... I think a lot... and that seems to be my problem... I waste so much time thinking, I feel (and my mom will whole-heartedly agree) that I have hardly spent any time doing anything of any notice... anyway... what the hell... what did  Socrates and all other "great thinkers" do? Who knows, I may as well find a place among them... (and I'm really counting on this blog to establish myself as one of them... no kidding...)
So, getting back to the topic of my introduction, I have spent a great deal of time wandering thoughtfully and very often aimlessly about things people have probably forgotten about or moved on from. And I intend to continue doing it... so read ahead at your own risk.
Enough said about myself, this blog will more or less capture in very short "posts", what I think about a lot of things... and which I hope will make my (rare) reader pause for a moment and think too. I may seem outdated in my views, but that's how I am.
Wanderer and ponderer... Go ahead, read and tell me what you feel.
Warning: I am bad at taking criticism... not that I mean any harm. Just saying... hehe...
And yes... the name's Hemant btw...