My Chequered Life

It is not important to fight each battle,

It is important to choose the right one to fight.

Because every day I win in an everyday battle,

But the victory is insignificant.

 

I sit back and ponder,

About the larger war that awaits me.

But in the hustle of each day,

I only fight the mere pawns.

Then I realize and wonder,

That I might be the king in my small world,

But in the big world outside,

Even I am a mere pawn.

But this has to change,

And I will bring it.

I will be the one to call out Checkmate,

Be the ruler -  the king,

And fight and win the right wars,

Because JUST winning isn’t everything.

It can happen only in India :)

This is a six-months old story, of the day when I was travelling by DTC Route no. 395 bus. The bus was jam-packed and every one was dying to reach their destinations. The driver weaved through the traffic keeping lesser than an inch distance from the others on the road.

As usual we got onto the DND highway and as any delhite would know that there are 'No Stoppages' allowed on DND. But suddenly, our bus screeched and stopped right on the middle of DND. Everybody surprised, looked around when suddenly, we saw a young girl get down from the bus. She went over the barricades and stood next to the final railing. Then she took out some 'pooja ka samaan' from a poly that she was carrying. After praying, she dropped a coconut too in the Yamuna, as over 60 bus riders just looked at her. Then she simply returned to the bus and waited for it to move again. The whole 2 minutes scene was not just a one day show, but (as I realized later) was an every Wednesday ritual. And that girl, was 'ahem ahem' the bus driver's - girl friend.

Well, in the name of God, this - can happen only in India :)

हद है

अपने दोस्तों से मिलने का Time नहीं,

पर Facebook पर "comment" करने का वक़्त है,

CTC सबका minimum 6 digit p.a. है,

पर गोलगप्पे के पैसे देने में हालत ख़स्त है,

सोचो तो ये सारे बहाने ,

लगता है यार, हद हैं.

DTC की बस की भीड़ में निकलती जान है,

पर disc के crowd में सभी मस्त हैं.

Office में बैठ कर "green tea" लेनी है,

पर किसी की Treat पे तो "लस्सी/beer" ही ज़बरदस्त है.

सोचो तो ये सारे बहाने ,

लगता है यार, हद हैं.

दूसरो का jaundice/typhoid भी छोटा है,

पर अपनी ख़ासी तो "I am allergic to dust" है,

मांगने के लिए भगवान से १०० करोड़ wishes हैं,

पर पूरी होने पर, प्रशाद के लिए १०० रूपए भी जेब पस्त है.

सोचो तो ये सारे बहाने ,

लगता है यार, हद हैं.

साला, जिस थाली में खाते हैं, उसी में छेद करते हैं,

और "Best Friends" कहकर, पीछे bitching से तोड़ते trust हैं.

इंसानियत के नाते, इन्सान नहीं हैं,

पर पहेंनते "Being Human" की टीशर्ट हैं.

सोचो तो ये सारे बहाने ,

लगता है यार, हद हैं.

यार हम connected all the time हैं,

पर दिल के connections कहीं lost हैं,

I hope with VoIP & 3G,

हमारे networks थोड़े और strong हो,

Relationships better और "Friend list" थोड़ी और long हो,

और इस wireless ज़माने में,

हमारे "loved ones" हम से हमेशा wired हो!

देख़े तो लगें , कि ये सारे नज़ारे,

यार इनमें, सच्चाई... बेहद है !!

सप्रेम,
अनन्या श्री 

Con amore

When I wanna stay, you make me leave,
And then you make me stay , when I wanna leave.
But then, you make me believe, when I am in doubt.
And then you love me, when I think,
Love is something, I can live without.

You treat me so gentle & wipe my tears,
But when you are angry, it's you who I fear,
But then you come & serenade me for a dance in a crowd,
And then you love me, when I think,
Love is something, I can live without.

When the dawn breaks, to see me is your need,
But when you do, you try to pay no heed.
By the noon, the tempers shoot-up & we scream & shout,
And then you love me, when I think,
Love is something, I can live without.

We fight & we decide never to talk,
But when you see me low,You hug me & take me for a walk.
And then things turn to hugs from pouts,
Cause, you actually love me & then I think,Love is something, none can live without.




Ana :)

Letter from Nani

Hi all...

Well, my Nani went through my blog recently and sent me a letter regarding the same.
I am very honoured and delighted to receive such words of affection and praise from her.

Here they are....

Went through your beautiful poems a few days back. Sorry not to appreciate them earlier. Really masterpieces of fine imagery. A spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings. Inspiring great happiness and heartfelt pleasure. The poems reminded me of my sixty years back joy and experiences, while going through Wordsworth, Byron, Shelly & Keats in my text book 'The Golden Treasury' at my graduation level studies.

I really enjoyed your thought provoking ideas, imagination, high class vocabulary and philosophical thinking, hidden artistically in your poems. May God bless you with much more talent in this field. Being an engineer in your career, the Almighty may add many more feathers in your cap. I am proud of my grand daughters like you.

Long live all the grannies :))

Love you naniji :)

गुम

कभी अकेली नहीं होती मैं,

हमेशा भीड़ साथ होती है.

बात चीत हो न हो,

हमेशा शोर साथ रहता है.

बाहर की आवाज़ बंद कर भी दूं,

तो अन्दर का शोर घेर लेता है.

मज़ाक हो भी रहा हो,

बातें ज्यादा लगती हैं,

एक बार खुल के हँस भी दूं,

तो हँसी के ठहाको में कुछ कमी सी छुपती है.

अपने ही साथ हो कर भी,

कुछ अलग सी हो जाती हूँ.

भीड़ में कभी तनहा,

तो कभी तन्हाई की भीड़ में, मैं गुम हो जाती हूँ.

Overgrown

Years have gone by since 1986,

And now my ID-card reads ‘Twenty Four’.

The World no longer treats me like a kid,

But I am now way more immature than before.

All through my childhood, I wanted to grow up,

Act like an adult and behave mature.

But today as I am all grown up,

I want to be treated as before.

Because deep within my heart, I am still a little girl,

Looking for protection, looking for cover.

Mamma’s arms are still the best place on earth,

In those dark nights, thunders still make me shudder.

No matter what the doc says, am still scared of injections,

While walking on roads, I still get freaked out by strays.

When asked to get ready for a party, I still ask for suggestions.

And secretly still, I am in love with the tom & jerry plays.

Though copies have turned into files,

And pocket money has been replaced by salaries,

Incentives given in place of chocolates,

No summer vacations, only leaves circled around the dates,

My frocks have turned into kurtis,

The cute diary out beaten by my blog,

The teacher replaced by a boss,

And with life right now, totally tossed.

But despite all odds,

I still feel I am a little girl inside, childlike and immature,

And still want to be treated, just as before.

Ananya

The Biggest Fight

Blood stained battle fields,

And torn uniforms,

Fresh bullet marks, clanking arms and shields.

But I braved it all,

Moved when everything else was stalled,

Soldiers without emotion,

Just one aim, just one passion.

But I fought them all.

Days turned into night,

And night into darkness,

Creepers and thorns, Human barb wires and shrewdness.

But I held my ground through all, 

Conquered everything like a fire ball.

Hunger never came, what came was thirst.

Sharp, targeted, regular or in bursts.

But I fought it all.

Far from home, near victory yet alone,

Though wishes and prayers always stood steady,

But it was only one bullet that took me down,

I tried to smile but out came a frown.

I really tried to fight, I tried a lot,

But on my cheeks and on many, just tears rolled down.

Because no matter how hard I tried,

I could not fight them at all.
I could not fight them at all.

Ananya

Space crunch :@

There is only one thing on my mind.. only one thing, but it's taking a hell lot of a space...

The Ultimate Gurus

I wrote this poem in VIII standard.... :) brings back memories...

When I first entered the school premises,
I saw all that what a child does not cherish,
Then suddenly, I met an angelic figure enhanced with grace & charm,
With nature so jovial and behaviour so warm.
She first held my hand & taught me ABC,
And made me a person I had to be.

That person who always brought me from darkness to light,
And who is responsible for my future so bright.
I want to ask that is who?
That is nobody else but you!

Then my school life really begun,
And on this pathway I was on a run,
I had to keep with the challenges & keep up with the pace,
And behind me to give boost, there was a person with an encouraging face.

A person who always gave a shoulder to cry,
And one who gave me confidence to get up & try.

Through flowers & thorns of life,
In each struggle helping me to strive.
You ask them a problem once,
They will tell you the answer twice.

A person with a divine touch & Godly hand,
A fairy carrying a magic wand.

Providing us with spirit & vigour,
And not even a tinge of rigour,
What is felt for them is an intoxicating passion,
Filled with startling, novel & innovative fashions.

A meeting with them is like horizon touching the ground, as it seems.
They are the ones who taught us to enliven our dreams.

Ones with sharp intellect & beauty,
Always right on time, right on duty.
A mother, a father is disguise,
A parent in the student’s eyes.

They tell us everything from far old to latest new,
And sure it is such people are really very few.

That person who always brought me from darkness to light,
And who is responsible for my future so bright.
I want to ask that is who?
That is nobody else but you!

Today with full gratitude, adoration & respect,
Perfect in every aspect,
The one that has all the above features,
I now disclose is nobody but a TEACHER,

A teacher in its real sense is a friend, a guardian, a guide,
A person in whom all the heavenly qualities abide!

Mixed Bag

Recently, I was asked in an interview to write a poem on-the-spot on the 'Interview' situation. So, here is what I penned down....

Mixed Bag

"Like a fruit basket with fruits of different tastes, shapes and             sizes.
A concoction of sweets and spices.

A mix of thoughts, experiences and diversity,
talking about challenges, achievements & adversity.

Hoping this pressure-cooker situation works well,
but who gets over-cooked or who gets nicely served...
only time will tell."

Peace Poem (John Denver)

I really like the Peace Poem by John Denver.
Read it for the first time when I was in 9th standard, but till date I love it.

I had used this poem in one of my extempores in Army School, Barrackpore.

A toast to the old times......

There's a name for war and killing,

There's a name for giving in,

When you know another answer,

For me, the name is sin.


But there is still time to turn around,

And make all hatred cease,

And give another name to living,

And we could call it peace.


And peace would be the road we walk,

Each step along the way

And peace would be the way we work

And peace the way we play.

And in all we see that's different

And in all the things we know,

Peace would be the way we look

And peace the way we grow.

There's a name for separation.

There's a name for first and last.

When it's all of us or nothing,

For me, that name is past.


But there still is time to turn around

And make all hatred cease

And give a name to all the future

And we could call it peace.


And if peace is what we pray for,

And peace is what we give,

Then peace will be the way we are

And peace the way we live.


Yes, there is still time to turn around

And make all hatred cease.

Let's give another name to living

And we can call it PEACE.