Kissing the Death

A re-post of my original post that I posted sometime back on my blog. 🙂 Hope you enjoy this, and find it not too offensive. Consider it my small,  humble and wishful attempt to be back on MoTA. 😉 :p

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Though I’ve seen many dear and near ones pass me by in my life, I’ve never written about death before. For, I never knew what it would feel like – until recently.

I feel lucky to have passed through this experience. Its hard to describe it in the generic context of duality of good or bad, because there is no such thing. It just is.

So, it was my friend’s birthday, and we were hoping to get high. Little did I know what I was going to face then. Though it wasn’t first time, it could have been last time.

I inhaled a few black clouds, enjoying the state of consciousness, puzzled with dizziness. My friend couldn’t take in much, and was constantly telling how badly rolled it was. :p

So I would take in more and more, and explain him how he was doing it wrong.

Then, in an instance, I felt a sudden whip of utter dizziness. Wham! And I said, “I can feel it so strong, why can’t you..” And went in another breathe. Wham!!! I was getting dizzy and high, and I mentioned I can’t take it anymore – I’m as high as heavens.

He gets a call, and goes away for a while.

Wham!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who.. what.. where.. why… how…

I could sense how my senses were loosing their control. Starting with sight. I could see things, but not really make sense with them. Another few seconds, and it started feeling numb first in my brain, then legs, arms, chest, heart and everything else… and I could sense my whole body vibrating from within – feeling like a thunderbolt of millions of watts is passing through me. It was all numb, yet filled with extreme energy. Pure consciousness. Oneness.

I crossed all my fingers of my hands, and folded and pressed my hands, and noticed myself gripping them so hard I could not separate easily. I felt discomfort in my stomach, lungs and heart. I felt my heartbeats dropping down.

I noticed I was loosing it, and I was sure I won’t make it through. With great difficulty, I shouted at my friend to bring me some water.. and I didn’t know why I did this. He was gone for almost a few centuries, which he later told me were only a few minutes. I was sweating bullets. I was not breathing unless I made conscious efforts at doing so. Sitting in the front of the car, I took my shirt off. Still sweating – and probably dehydrating.

I felt these were the last moments. The past memories flew by me. I remembered the ones I love. I uttered their names. I sensed that so many things will go unsaid, undone, untold, unheard, non-existed. A deep sigh, with a glimpse of tears in eyes, with realization that nothing actually matters – its all momentary. And I was one of those fabrics that created the moments that were. I sensed I could either end up in a hospital, in a police station, or in a graveyard. Chances were high that it could be the last one.

I am a non-believer. But then, when it was one of those last moments when death could have kissed me, I surprisingly uttered OM / AUM sound.. loudly… several times. I did it like it was the last but only thing I had to do. It felt like I’m bringing in, calling for, triggering some energies – within and beyond – that will spark it all up again. After all, as I’ve learned it later, sound does not exist. It is just an impression in mind created by the energy waves or oscillations.

So there I was.. waiting for the last sip of water to go in – and may be then bid a farewell to this reality and to possibly enter another..!??!?

But then came my friend, bringing in the water bottle, giving it to me unopened while talking on phone!!!!@!!@@$#@

I tried to tell him to open it for me. But I had little control over my voice, and it went a little too loud. He then recognized the situation was probably already out of control, and turned the call off.

He opened the bottle for me. I drank a few sips. A sudden discomfort inside the body… like it was telling itself there is something wrong. Someone isn’t able to take in a fucking breathe!!!!! I continued drinking, a few more sips, and then suddenly… the stomach responded. :))

“PUKE!!!!! Puke the fuck out of this asshole. Anything that is in his belly. Just puke the fuck out, so that his lungs can get some space to take the fucking breathe in!!!!” – screamed the amazing molecular superstructure of my body to all of its microcosms.

“Okay.. a little more.. PUKE. The roads of this city are already in bad condition, nothing can go worse. PUKE.” the microcosm responded. 😀

I slowly recovered back to my senses. And felt the beauty of life again. Calmness. Wisdom. Oneness.

I sworn to myself to respect this fucking life (which I do anyways, but still, reaffirming 😉 ). I sworn to say what must be said, to do what must be done, to love who must be loved. For, I realized that the only thing that could probably hold you back from the ultimate bliss and freedom is the times when you disobeyed the call of your heart.

Love. Live.

~ Ronak R. / RokZRooM


Fondly, I remember the good old days…!

Small things in life used to give me great pleasure and a sense of satisfaction in the days that are gone by. Now, I have all the affordable comforts of life but still I don’t have the time to sit back and enjoy these days….

I remember my school days with reverence to them as I have my fond memories locked in there. I still remember the days, when I used to listen to the Vividh Bharati before leaving home and setting my watch to the time that was just read out….

I used to eagerly wait for the new film songs to telecast and wait till one song to be played. Listen to few lines of it and then leave however late it would be to school. The few lines would run in my mind and I would wait another day to hear the same few lines and wait eagerly for Saturdays and Sundays to listen to them in complete. But as fate would be stronger, I would not be able to hear them and it would be a Monday, when I hear them again.

There used to long and unforgettable debates on our favorite stars at leisure periods of school or during the breaks. The discussion used to be about varied topics of these movie stars, their upcoming films and songs that made your heart churn to the melody, new posters, their costumes, the heroine make-up, and a whole lot of aspects of the movie.

The Doordarsan serials, programs on DD2,the cricket matches, the Olympics, the games in summer holidays, the trips to hometown during holidays, the unknown relative marriages, the weddings of Akka’s, Anna’s, neighbors, uncles and aunts, the glory of talking to classmates, the long walks to the school and college. All these were fun.

Now, we get all that one desires for, new movie clippings, new DVD’s, CD’S players, mp3 players, beautiful computer systems that play multi-media.

But where is the fun in waiting for the glimpse of your favorite hero, the new posters of the hero, the magazines that had loads of cine news, the cricket commentaries for the matches you can’t see, the long wait for the world cups, the glimpses of your sports star, the tennis matches, the tennis stars, the cricket matches during the final exams, the cajoling you get to do to your mother to watch them, and the final approval from dad to watch for few over’s and then back to the books, with intermittent scores or over’s…

What fun it used to be!!!! And to top it all the discussions about the bowlers and the strikes made by players on ground….with friends the next day!!! Watching the few over’s at a near-by friend’s house during breaks and the announcement of the score card during the physics and chemistry labs…asking a friend to run home and get the scores, the unnecessary leaves to watch matches, movies, and the songs that used to be played on those small and elegant tape recorders.

The happiness of noting the songs that we like on a piece of paper and getting it recorded on a TDK or Sony cassettes from a recording shop. The 90 minute cassettes and the 60 minute cassettes, calculating how many songs would accommodate in each, the blaring speaker radios on the events of the politicians, cine actors, birthdays and death anniversaries on the street corners, the fading sound of a long forgotten song travelling in the air in the mid-afternoons when you are deliberately asked to sleep to avoid the sun on summer holidays, the long runs in the backyards of the house, the scorching heat and sweat never minded.

Now, leaving the comforts of the house is a real problem. No kid wants to play in the sun, they want be in the air conditioned rooms and the sophisticated video games to play with. The fun of munching into a raw mango right from the tree branch plucked and wiped on the dress to wash off the dust and mud. The raw tamarind buds, the unripe guavas, the sapotas, the tender coconut water all from the gardens of the backyard and those competitions for the ‘Fastest Tree Climber’ title. The street corner games with marbles, tops, and try to beat the local guys in those games, it was a whole lot of fun.

The long lectures from grand mom and grand dad about playing with the local kids and the scorching sun, the unkempt promises of not playing with them the next day, the sneaking out of the house to join the gang, the small film strips lying the roads, the collection of small match boxes, the collection of stamps, the collection of one rupee coins, old rupee notes, different envelops, foreign currencies, flowers, and those small things that looked different or amused you.

Those stories and tales from grand mom and grand dad, of those days, the pre-independence days, the stories of the days when a whole gamut of kitchen groceries could be brought with just 5 rupees, the temple feasts, the stories of ghosts and spirits that tauter you in the night after everyone has slept and you cling to your grandmother and sleep tight till the broad daylight. The joyful rides in the city buses to the town to buy things that are necessary for you, easily available in the city.

The movies in the theatres that had only benches to sit and watch the screens with an L-shaped torn in the centre, the vendors selling peanuts, murrukku, the bad-tasting cola but fun to drink, the small kulfi’s, the salty ice-creams, the sonpapdi that the old man used to sell when he comes to our house lanes late in the nights ringing his bell, heard from far away lanes, waiting for him to arrive at your lane.

Surround the chimney light and ask for the better portion from the bottle, his murmuring that everything is the same and later he gives in to satisfy us. Those were priceless star-studded nights.

The clipping that always missed when you got up to wash your hands after a round of scolding from your mother after dinner or a meal, or when you mother calls you to stir something in the kitchen, or when you run to pick the clothes in the backyard when it starts drizzling, the fun in doing everything right and still watch the small clipping that appeared between breaks.

The Chitrahaar on Wednesdays, the Rangoli on Sundays, and the other regional language movies, the Fauji serial, the Buniyaad serial, the Humlog serial on weekdays used to be good and you always looked forward to watch it unlike today’s serial that are full of Saas-Bahu or Some break-up relation or someone taking the role of Sakuni and getting disorder in the family.

Those programs had a message and talked of the wealth of a family, the happiness in living together. The serials such as , Shanthi, Sukanya, teri kahani nirali, Udaan-A story of female IPS used to talk about the strength of women in a natural way. These brought out the goodness of being a female and how she can also be equal to a man. Then the legendary series of Mahabharat and the Ramayan by the two giants in the Cine field, Ramanand Sagar and BR Chopra films, were great entertainers….

The Doordarsan short films such as film on togetherness, the film on the importance of obeying the railway crossing, the importance of educating a girl child, the importance of family planning, those small and imperfect in today’s standards of film making were real good and it was fun watching them and they still etched a mark in your brain.

The books such as Amar Chitra Katha, Tinkle, Tin Tin, the cartoon shows on DD, the Tom and Jerry, the Duck Tales, the Lonely Tunes, Mickey Mouse and Goofy, The Squirrels, The Mooglie of Jungle, The Charlie Chaplin comedies, and the non-stop nonsense series.

Everything in life has a price; we gave up these small pleasures to be more comfortable and happy in life. With it came the advent of technology and more advanced features of life but none in comparison to the small and pleasurable deeds that we used to do. In vain, we lost the very essence of living it right… childhood.

Schools reopened!

Yesterday, morning I could see the school kids back at my bus stop, we share the same space to board onto our respective buses…they to their school and me to my office.

They are accompanied by people they can relate to, mom, dad, thatha (grand-dad), patti (grand-mom), sister, brother or the maid of the house.

I could see some faces brightened by the sight of their own kinsmen standing…some of them were quite and some were asking a lot of questions as usual.

There was more color to the school uniform than usual, they were bright and crisp and were smelling of afresh. There were brand new bags, new lunch boxes and a uniquely designed water bottle to go with it.

The bag were full of new text books and new note books all covered in brown sheets and labeled with several beautiful label stickers.

All of them were enthusiastic to go to their new classes, which was waiting for them with the ever complicating problems of mathematics, growing boundaries of geography, intriguing science, the captivating history, the bewildering civics, the over whelming social studies, the more rich English and the language that was getting little tough and rough.

The classes were new and the teachers new…out of which some were favorites, new classmates, new benches and a renowned knowledge and the sense of growth of our knowledge and the physical growth of us!

The fresh smell of the books and notebooks, the conversation over the different combinations of brown paper, lamination sheets, labels, the geometry boxes, the graph notebooks, the geography workbooks…all alluring and intriguing.

Well, it is that time of year when the kids and grown-ups start afresh in school and college with an advanced step and put in all their efforts and hard work to get rid of the ignorance they hold true to themselves and bring in the light of everything we see, read and sense!

Looking at all of them taking new steps towards their life and study, I felt even me got to be enthusiastic after a week-long gap and got into my bus and started my journey to the office with an added zeal from the Yoga classes I attended and looking at the zealots.

PS: The photos used in this blog post are taken from the Web. Please, raise if  you have objections to it, will be more than willing to replace these photos. 🙂

Seven Year Itch….!

I have heard this term for the first time, after I got married and I had always neglected it whenever I had heard it before.

I was thinking it is a myth and did not pay much attention to it, unless it started hitting me hard from all sides. I found couples around me talking about it and there was something or other going around me in wrong dimensions.

I was worried I don’t fall a victim to the same old fact. I wanted to hold on to the strings of the so called marriage and run it into the right stream, so far have been successful.

But, I am worried about a lot of things that’s happening around me. I wanted to know ‘What this itching is all about?’ and ‘Why is it creating such a rush in life?’

I went on to the search central and did a wide search on the topic and I found a lot of websites teaching us on what it is and how to avoid it to an extent. But, one thing that I did not understand is that, ‘Does this phenomenon happen only with relationship or marriage or with every aspect of life?” If it happens with all the other aspects of life then why do relationships are the ones that undergo the roughest patch in life…?

Why people fall into the trap of a seven year ordeal?

Let me explain, what is the seven year itch and what does it refer to?

Seven year itch is a syndrome that happens to people in relationship or in a marriage. By and large this phenomenon happens in a marriage and studies suggest that many divorces and break-ups happen due to this itch and only few people in it sustain this itch.

I was wondering about the people who sustain this itch and survive through and go beyond the seven years of married life.

I was wondering do these people really call their married life a bliss or what compromise that they further did to sustain the maintainability of the so called marriage.

I did a further search to see how this horrible itch can be put into ease and what is the ointment or cream that can put the itch to a mere scratch on the skin and not cut through deep into the throats of each other in a relationship?

I wondered about the psychological reasons to the itch that happen actually after a seven year. It is presumed that man starts to re-think his life that he has been through the seven years and all that he gave up or did to make a few things work stands so much in front of him that it becomes an ordeal to go through the rest of the days – that’s in the relationship.

They also go on to say that the differences and the negligence that happened through the start of the years in a relationship or marriage becomes a burden at the start or end of a seven year and people start looking at life from the misdeeds that they did during those periods of so called compromise.

So, the real culprit is man who lets of what he does not want to give at first and at the end of the seventh year he starts asking for all that he wanted in the first place?!

How weird, the mind takes seven years to process the data?

Some psychologists go on to say, man who does not able to sustain through the itch – they go astray and look for relationships that satisfy them superficially, such a partner who is anew to relationship or an another person who is looking for a sexual gratification gets along to stratify their needs and what follows is two life syndrome…and it takes another seven years to rectify the mistake we make then.

Understood man is a complex being in a simpler cover…but at whose stake is all this that he undergoes.

The world over knows the reason for the problem but not one website tells us to overcome the problem and there are no success stories that have overcome this visible itch.

Now, why do we need a website that talks about it and its symptoms and the same way why do we need some others learning’s to do what we want in our life?

How do we cope up with the itch? If, I tell you a few things that I did or will do will it help? If it helps won’t that again be your own problem of little bit of adjustment or set an expectation as in that happened with such and such life and it got alright, why isn’t it not working with my life?

What’s the remedy?

Who am I to say remedy, ya? Nevertheless, I say you look into your life after seven years putting up with something why not try doing it for another year and make it an eight year itch and sustain the thingy in your life forever.

That isn’t as simple as it is said, but if the seven year itch is there, all you got to do is work around and figure what’s the best you can do in the given situation. That will require you of all your energies and social conditions…!!!

Are we ready to do?

If we could get into a relationship with the hope that this will go through and let me give up this one instance…let us see that we continue doing that in the seventh year or rather let us not get into a relationship that does suck at the seventh year, and I am going to look around and say, “I did this, now you do your recommendations…?!”

What say, folks…let me know what you feel about it.

Image Courtesy:


चलने ही चलने में कितना जीवन, हाय, बिता डाला!
‘दूर अभी है’, पर, कहता है हर पथ बतलानेवाला,
हिम्मत है न बढूँ आगे को साहस है न फिरुँ पीछे,
किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़ मुझे कर दूर खड़ी है मधुशाला।।७।

श्री हरिवंश राय ‘बच्चन’ जी की इन अमूल्य और अतुल्य  शब्दों के भावार्थ आज सत्य से प्रतीत हो रहे हैं| मुख्यतः मेरी परिस्तिथि पर| मैं निराशावादी नहीं हूँ| उल्टा अगर मेरी गिनती निराशावादीयों की श्रेणी में हो तो मैं उससे दुर्भाग्यपूर्ण घटना, अपने पूरे जीवन की,  किसी और को नहीं मानूंगा| मेरा आज तक सिर्फ आशा की किरणों ने ही मार्ग दर्शन किया है| मैं आशावादी हूँ| मेरा मानना है कि, भविष्य सुन्दर है…भविष्य उज्जवल है…सिर्फ मेरा ही नहीं…समस्त पृथ्वी का| स्वाभाविक है कि अब आपका प्रश्न होगा कि फिर मैं निराशावादी क्यूँ प्रतीत हो रहा हूँ? उत्तर भी सरल है …एकाग्रित हो कर उपरोक्त पंक्तियों को दुबारा पढ़ें …उनमे निराशावाद से अधिक असमंजस है…भ्रान्ति है| मैं निराश नहीं हुआ अभी…पर हाँ,  किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़ अवश्य हूँ| परिस्तिथियाँ ही कुछ ऐसी हैं, किन्तु परिस्तिथियों के विषय पर कभी और वार्तालाप करेंगे| 
आज इस स्तिथि “किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़” के विषय में विचार विमर्श हो जाये? 
किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़ता, साधारणतः एक अल्पजीवी अवस्था है| एक ऐसी अवस्था जिसमे आप अपनी सोचने, समझने और समस्या का समाधान निकालने में असक्षम हो जाते हैं| जब आपकी बुद्धिमत्ता पर अन्धकार कि एक चादर डल जाती है और आपको ऐसा प्रतीत होता है कि आप एक महासागर के मध्य में बिना किसी साधन के, बिना किसी मदद के, खड़े हैं| कुछ परिस्तिथियों में ऐसी अवस्था लाभ दायक भी साबित होती है, किन्तु अधिकांश तौर पे यह अवस्था बहुत हानिकारक होती है|  क्या करें? क्या न करें?…ये प्रश्न बहुत ही विचलित करते हैं| तो इस अवस्था से निकालने का उपाय क्या है? साधारण मनुष्य जैसे कि मैं और आप ऐसी अवस्था में क्या करें?
मेरा मानना है कि मुझमें, आपमें और हम सब में एक असीम उर्जा का प्रवाह होता है…शारीरिक या भौतिक उर्जा नहीं … किन्तु मानसिक उर्जा| मेरा यह भी मानना है कि मुझमे इस उर्जा का प्रवाह, असाधारण नहीं किन्तु पर्याप्त मात्रा में अवश्य होता है| मुझसे जब भी मेरी इस अविरल ऊर्जा स्त्रोत के विषय पर प्रश्न किया जाता है तो मेरे पास सिर्फ एक ही उत्तर होता है, और वो ये कि – हमारी मानसिकता, न की हमारी मानसिक स्तिथि, उस उर्जा का स्त्रोत है| अब आप इस विषय पर किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़ होंगे कि मानसिक उर्जा क्या है और इस चर्चा से उसका का क्या सम्बन्ध? सम्बन्ध यह है कि इस मानसिक उर्जा का प्रभाव आपकी मानसिक स्तिथि पर एक गंभीर रूप से उद्धारित होता है| यदि आपकी मानसिक उर्जा सही मात्रा में प्रवाहित होती है तो आपकी मानसिकता आपकी मानसिक स्तिथि को अधिकृत करने में सक्षम हो जाएगी| अब आपकी मानसिकता और आपकी उर्जा, दोनों ही दो प्रकार के हो सकते हैं – सकारात्मक या ऋणात्मक| यदि आपकी मानसिकता सकारात्मक है तो निःसंदेह आपकी उर्जा भी सकारात्मक होगी और ऐसा होने पर भले ही कैसी भी परिस्तिथि हो, कुछ क्षणों के लिए आप अवश्य अपना संतुलन खो देंगे, अवश्य ही निराश या नकारात्मक हो जायेंगे…किन्तु यह स्तिथि अल्पजीवी होगी…आप तीव्रता से अपने आप का संतुलन वापस पाने में सक्षम रहेंगे…एक आशा कि किरण आपमें वो पुरानी स्फूर्ति ला देगी जिससे आप अच्छी तरह अवगत हैं| उदाहरण के तौर पे – एक ऐसे दिन का ध्यान करिए जिसका आरम्भ किसी अच्छे समाचार या सन्देश से हुआ था…अवश्य ही वह आपका पूरा दिन सुखमय व प्रफुल्लित व्यतीत हुआ होगा? निष्कर्ष स्पष्ट होना चाहिए कि हमें एकमात्र सकारात्मक विचारों और परिणामों का ध्यान करना चाहिए| केवल सुविचारों के प्रवाह को प्रोत्साहित करना चाहिए| और इसके विपरीत स्तिथि वाले दिवस का भी एक बार ध्यान करिए जिस दिन आपको कोई बुरा समाचार या सन्देश मिला हो…वह दिन कैसा व्यतीत हुआ था? मैं ऋणात्मक उर्जा और मानसिकता के विषय में विस्तार से वार्तालाप नहीं करना चाहता क्यूंकि ऐसी विचारधारा पे समय व्यर्थ करना मैं उचित नहीं समझता| सद और असद विद्या, दोनों का ज्ञान होना आवश्यक है, पर मेरी समझ से आप सब इस “असद” विद्या से बोधित अवश्य होंगे| इसी कारणवश मैं नकारात्मक मानसिकता और उर्जा पर मैं अपनी उर्जा और समय व्यर्थ नहीं करना चाहता| एक वाक्य में – ऋणात्मक विचारधारा और मानसिकता से जितनी दूरी रखिये उतना ही लाभदायक होगा|
एक बार जब विचारधारा पर आपका नियंत्रण हो जाये, उसके बाद का कार्य अति सरल हो जाता है| उसके बाद आपको सिर्फ एक ओर बढ़ना होता है…सिर्फ निर्णय लिए ही कार्य करने होते हैं| ध्यान रहे कि बढ़ने से पहले या कार्य करने से पहले आप फिर उसी विचलित अवस्था में न चले जाएँ…कि इस ओर बढे तो क्या होगा? ये कार्य किया तो क्या होगा? यदि हमने जैसा सोचा है वैसा नहीं हुआ तो? ऐसे विचार कृपा कर के अपने मस्तिष्क में न लाये..ये मेरा अति विनम्र और अटल अनुग्रह है आपसे| हम में से कोई भी भविष्य नहीं जानता| यदि हम इसी विचार में रहे कि हमारे किस कार्य का क्या परिणाम होगा, हम अपना जीवन उसी विचार में व्यतीत कर देंगे और हमें कभी जानकारी नहीं होगी कि उस कार्य का असल जीवन में क्या परिणाम होता? कार्य कर के तो देखो आप, कि परिणाम क्या होता है? अन्यथा आपको वो ज्ञान कैसे होगा? बिना कार्य किये या बिना निर्णय लिए ही आप कैसे जान जाओगे परिणाम? दूसरों कि ओर ना देखो, दूसरों कि परिस्तिथियों से तुलना ना करो| कृपा करता हूँ…आग्रह करता हूँ| दूसरों कि भूल से सीख लेना अच्छी बात है, किन्तु हर किसी कि परिस्तिथि एक नहीं होती, हर व्यक्ति कि क्षमताएं एक नहीं होती…इसलिए यदि किसी और ने आपके समान कोई परिस्तिथि में कोई निर्णय लिया और वह निर्णय या कार्य उसे भरी पड़ा तो आवश्यक नहीं है कि वाही कार्य या निर्णय आपके लिए भी भरी पड़ेगा| आप कार्य कर के तो देखो, निर्णय ले कर तो देखो…यदा कदा में न रहो…जीवन में इतने सारे यदा कदा हैं कि उन सबका उत्तर स्वयं इश्वर के पास नहीं होगा| कार्य करो, फल कि भी इच्छा करो, किन्तु फल कि इच्छा में कार्य न करो, ये तो उचित नहीं है|  एक छोटे से शिशु का ही उदाहरण लो…यदि उसे यह ज्ञान होता कि जब वह अपने पहले पग उठाएगा तो अवश्य ही गिरेगा और उसे चोट लगेगी तो क्या कोई भी शिशु कभी भी चल पाता?
‘मधुशाला’ कि जिन पंक्तियों से मैंने इस चर्चा का प्रारंभ किया था, उनसे ही अंत भी करना चाहूँगा…और शायद श्री बच्चन जी कि उन अगली पंक्तियों से आपको मेरे चर्चा का सन्दर्भ भी समझ आये …
मदिरालय जाने को घर से चलता है पीनेवला,
‘किस पथ से जाऊँ?’ असमंजस में है वह भोलाभाला,
अलग-अलग पथ बतलाते सब पर मैं यह बतलाता हूँ –
‘राह पकड़ तू एक चला चल, पा जाएगा मधुशाला।’। ६।

चलने ही चलने में कितना जीवन, हाय, बिता डाला!
‘दूर अभी है’, पर, कहता है हर पथ बतलानेवाला,
हिम्मत है न बढूँ आगे को साहस है न फिरुँ पीछे,
किंकर्तव्यविमूढ़ मुझे कर दूर खड़ी है मधुशाला।।७।

मुख से तू अविरत कहता जा मधु, मदिरा, मादक हाला,
हाथों में अनुभव करता जा एक ललित कल्पित प्याला,
ध्यान किए जा मन में सुमधुर सुखकर, सुंदर साकी का,
और बढ़ा चल, पथिक, न तुझको दूर लगेगी मधुशाला।।८।


Beauty Lies in the Eye of the Beholder!!!

When does this statement come true? When does it make sense?

When a man looks at a woman and appreciates her or when a thing of beauty is really appreciated?

I am confused so, is the statement confusing more. When a herd of people hoot and whistle at a beauty it is called Eve-teasing?! But the same thing done by a man of her choice it is called appreciation.

What logic is it? Then in what sense does it reflect that – beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder…?!

Does this mean beauty can be only in the eye of the person who likes that person however unfair or however unnatural that person can be?!

Let’s come back to appreciating beauty a little later….now, let’s see this quantity called beauty!!

What is it that is called Beauty? Is it really skin deep or beyond the physical quantities of the particle in discussion?

I am placing my discussion faced with the most common quantity in everyday use, Woman. I don’t deny the fact that men can also be described under the word beauty but by and large we don’t look at them that way and it is the female gender that carries all the required attention with the word so called beauty…!

If we are talking about other living things around they are anyway beautiful and there is certainly beauty if in the eyes of the beholder…a crowed street can be beautiful for one and not for other…a beautifully decked market with loads of thing around can be beauty for one and not for another…it totally depends on what we are actually looking for…!!

Women are considered beautiful in the true sense world over, now what does that mean? They are born beautiful or made beautiful or converted beautiful…!

A woman in her twenties looks beautiful coz that’s the time she flowers and takes the role of being the entity that she is.

A woman in her thirties is complete with her beauty that she plays a lot of roles in her one single life makes her more wanted and more beautiful.

A woman in her forties have done away with a lot of her chores of this lifetime and is just been able to take a deep breath at the life that went by, she is more beautiful in the relaxation she is enjoying.

A woman in her fifties is seen at the best of her life so far as she now does not care about anything that is her control and still there is so much that she has not done…she is beautiful in doing what she loves to do.

In which stage of this is woman seen and how is she being treated beauty of which era is more talked about?

Can a man read the era and see her as beautiful as she is…?

Does he see her as she was in her twenties, thirties or look at her now and say, “You have grown beautiful over the year or say I still see the girl like charm in you?”

What makes a woman beautiful?

The way she carries herself, the way she talks, the way she does her things, the way she responds, the imminent things that she does or the person herself is the thing of beauty…what it is?!

We exclaim when a man proposes to an ordinarily looking woman and say, “Huh! Could he have not got someone better looking?” as if we are the certifiers of beauty…!?

But when it comes to ourselves however bad or moderate looking we can be we are the most exquisite beings on earth?

On days as such, I feel that the statement fits in beautifully as it describes. But on days, when I want an pair of appreciating eyes to appreciate the look of my face there that single soul that misses out…I wonder what nobody appreciates beauty as it does or says.

But whatever said and done, the quality of beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder – be it your own eyes and that stands true across tide and time. You are the first person who certifies yourself as the beauty that you want to see every day morning, noon and night for years.

Saying, thus am I happy there is no one single pair of eyes that gives me the appreciating look, “No, I always want that pair of eyes that follow me and tell me what I am worth or what a piece of beauty I am, come on, give me the look…Beauty lies only in the eyes of the beholder!

Last but not the least, as rightly John Keats puts it…A thing of beauty is a joy forever and forever it means any stage in life…!

Image Courtesy:

You Bihari! You £$%#@!

Circa:  2006 A.D. Route: Poona – Jamshedpur. Services: Azad Hind Express, Indian Railways. Scene:  A typical 3AC compartment – with a youngster trapped amidst – a family of five with three annoyingly hyper-active and argumentative kids on only four reserved berths; an old lady, from the southern extensions of this vast country, yapping her way to glory; and a middle aged couple munching on the popular snacks of the region and utilising the floor as the waste bin.


The wondrous services of Indian Railways had ensured that the passengers of that particular services – get to travel no faster than a bullock cart (comprehending to the ever increasing demand to “enjoy the scenic beauty of countryside India”), halting at every signal post constructed on that route (to facilitate the realisation that none of these posts stood without a reason) and derive the immense pleasure of a stuffy, non-functional AC coach (in order to motivate passengers to use regular sleeper class coaches and improve on fuel efficiency).


Old Lady, who was from some obviously indomitable state of Southern India, had some amazing ability to convert her thoughts into the words and to blurt them out without the application of any filters, and was flaunting, very precariously, her “prim and proper” self. First, it was the turn of the oh-so-innocent middle aged couple who had had Bhel-Puri, Kachhi-Dhabeli and others of the sort, while feeding the poor and hungry floor more than their own beloved stomachs, on the topic of hygiene and cleanliness, and garnering a total oblivion in return. The wife had managed a perplexed look on her face and was looking towards her husband for a respite and a riposte, but fortunately he was unperturbed.  Without the lack of vigour, she turned her energy towards the kids – the kind she claimed to have mastered in her school as she was an English Teacher. Lessons on the importance of discipline and obedience poured on the poor souls unblemished and vehemently. The compartment was turning into a ‘Moral Science’ classroom.


She was gloriously yapping to the innocent kids, “Everybody must do their own work”, when her lecture was interrupted. “Everybody must do his or her own work…Not ‘their own work’…a common Pronoun error” a voice broke. The poor, ignorant youngster had no idea then, what wrath he had unveiled on himself. The old lady’s jaw dropped. She could not believe her ears or eyes. How dare an indecorous and insolent young fellow who was still busy in his cell-phone, make such a preposterous remark at her?


Old Lady: (Turning towards the youngster in utter disbelief) Excuse me?

Youngster: (with his eyes still fixated on his phone) It is a very common grammatical error, where the pronoun is not in agreement with the number of nouns it is referring to.

Old Lady: (with “How dare you?” expression on her face) What?

Youngster: (now giving her a casual look) Yes! Everybody and own are the mismatch here – plural and singular. Hence, instead of their, it should be his or her. I hope I am making sense.

Old Lady: (trying to calm down now) Yes! Very Much! Thank you for the correction. (Forgets about the Moral Science lecture) So…Where did you do your schooling from?

Youngster: (again…Casually) DPS.

Old Lady: (with excitement) DPS, Bangalore?

Youngster: (with a perplexed look on his face) Do they have a DPS there? I am afraid; my knowledge is limited about the expanse of the fraternity. I am a DPS, Bokaro Steel City, alumni.

Old Lady: Oh! Alright…So your father works in Bokaro Steel Plant, but you are from Kerala?

Youngster: (with signs of disgust on his face) What made you arrive at this conclusion?

Old Lady: (with some sense of pride at her derivation) Well! For one, you have very good English, and second you look quite the Mallu.

Youngster: (Irritated) I apologise to be continuously disappointing you, but I am from Bihar, and Bhojpuri is my mother tongue.

Old Lady: (in disbelief again) But…But that cannot be.

Youngster: (somewhat mockingly) Again an improper sentence, or rather, an incomplete sentence. There has to be a verb or noun at the end of the sentence. For example “But that cannot be true or correct”. Now, may I have the pleasure of knowing why that cannot be true or correct?

Old Lady: (getting back to her “prim and proper” self) That is precisely the reason why it cannot be correct. You don’t sound like a Bihari.

Youngster: (with disgust) Excuse me! Then, according to you, how do Biharis sound like?

Old Lady: They do not have such good English and their pronunciations are even worse. How come you have such good English?

Youngster: (muttering mockingly) What can you say? My Mom and Dad conceived me on the banks of Thames and my Dad even went a step ahead to sprinkle those holy waters on her womb.

Old Lady: I am sorry!

Youngster: (smiling and now audibly) To break your preconceived notions, all the educated Biharis I have come across, do have a fabulous fluency in and knowledge of, English. Without being modest, I can confidently say I am not even a noteworthy example. In fact, I am astonished that you being an English Teacher are startled at my English.

Old Lady: (perturbed by the retorts) Son! I have been into teaching for the past 22 years. I have been in Jamshedpur for 6 years now, teaching at two of the best schools the city has, and I have never come across a Bihari student who could dare point out my grammatical errors. Let alone the grammar, the pronunciation is an even bigger issue. You must have had very good teachers at your school.

Youngster: (muttering again) Then what did you think? My Mom gave me the chutney of Wren and Martin’s English Grammar and Composition, instead of gripe water, to help me digest my food?

Old Lady: (perplexed look)

Youngster: Obviously my teachers had a good role to play in my education but that does not single me out. As far as pronunciation is concerned, according to me, Biharis have the best and the most correct. We speak the clearest and pronounce each word as it has been described in the oxford dictionary. Anyways! Since we are having this conversation, please oblige me with your description of a typical Bihari. I promise, I will take it very healthily and in the right spirit. Also, my answers might help you understand us better (and he smiles a wry smile).


 (The explanation will follow soon…)