Wednesday, February 26, 2014

O Racism...

A child smiles –
looking at a friend’s face,
friend returns a bigger one.


Both eager to come close and play,
step toward one another;
just then,
in comes a shrill voice –
“Don’t play with that child?”
“Why?” asks the second one, sadly.
“That child is not our class and does not even speak our language, that’s why.”


With a gloom on faces and woe in hearts –
children return home, sob,
and wait for 'The Sun' of racism to set,
once for all.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Abuse Or Jealousy?



I have had been wanting to share this for quite a long time, but could not do so due to lack of time and attend priorities of life. Am glad, I finally found time to gather this thing and put it in front of you all. So, here it is. I have removed his name to hide his identity.

Has anyone of you gone through online abuse? Yes, I know it is the worst thing to happen. Especially, if you are working on your passion or just sharing your thoughts. I have had the worst experience of online abuse from none other but from my own cousin. It is more painful, when family members abuse you, instead of supporting. I think, if they can't support, they have no right to abuse. This incident happened almost three years ago. Although I have had pardoned him for his stupidity, the scars remain. 

There are few lines in our local language (Marathi), which I have translated into English for easy understanding.

Wonder, why do people have an abusive attitude. Can't they keep their mouth shut or divert their frustration elsewhere? Oh! That's too much of my rambling. 

Check out the conversation we had on Facebook. I am thankful to him; because this led me to create a simple picture and a quotation, which depicts true character of a matured man.

I have termed this entire episode as Abuse Or Jealousy?

The conversation starts from here...

My comment on facebook status update after posting ‘What If I Die Tomorrow?’

A question irrefutable,
Yet my mind,
my heart and I wonder –
What if? What if?
I fear...

I wake up
every morning to learn,
I am alive still;
to thank the Lord, I do.
It makes me humble...

Looking at myself,
my loved ones,
my heart renders;
streams to live,
forever, just me and them.
Ignorant I am...

With hopes and dreams
in heart; I live,
days, weeks, years,
thinking of survival,
till eternity.
My ignorant optimism...

Hopes die, dreams crash,
worried, scattered,
on the ideation of,
of death, What if I die today?
What if I die just now?
I see nothing...

Mind lurks,
heart thinks what after me?
What about my loved ones,
my family, my friends?
Will I be remembered, loved,
after I am dead?
I am all confused...

Death –
You are just an incident,
you aren’t that prudent too.
A reality just,
before you rush for me;
I will live for "LIFE",
my family, my friends,
my dreams, my hopes.
I will “Love” until Death...

Death –
You will, I know;
come to me, take me away –
with you, one day,
but I am not,
scared of you.
My Lord makes me fearless...

Dear Friends, I know you all are busy, unlike me. But, do pull out some time from your busy schedules to read this poem. I do not wish to brag about, me authoring it; but I guarantee, time spent by you would be worth it. Check it out. Thanks.

Him:
aho xxxxxxx, Death is certain. bachenge to aur bhee ladenge. i.e to say mission is important. (Fight till we are alive.)

Me:
अहो xxxxxx, पहिले हे सांगा, कविता पूर्ण पणे वाचली आहे का? नसेल वाचली, तर आधी वाचा, आणि मग बोला. "Death is certain" हे आम्हाला माहित नाही असं नव्हे.

(Tell me, if you have read the poem, if not, please read and then raise your voice. I am aware of death being certain.)

Him:
tried but cud not read beyond first few lines.. sorry, but in my view it is verbal diarrhea which most poems often are. i think it will be a mega commercial success as commons like me cud not read beyond first few lines. patience ran out. best of luck

Me:
@xxxxxx: It’s really, really sad you couldn’t hold your patience to read what your brother wrote and instead termed it verbal diarrhea.
By the way, I opine that the one who understands a poem really has a heart and a sharp mind and those who can’t read between words or understand them have lost patience in everything they do. Let me tell you upfront, I ain’t here to sell anything.
Thanks for your best luck. Thanks again, you encouraged me to write more.

Sorry for the harsh reply. Have a great week ahead.

Me:
@xxxxxx: Just to share with you, this same poem received 5 Stars and it’s been read across the world. If "You" didn't like it, it doesn't mean others won't like it. I would always try to learn and appreciate others instead of faking I know everything. Once again thanks a lot for your genuine comment, which really uplifted my spirits.

Him:
i told u. it will be a commercial success. infact i also liked it while wiping..... u know what. no marks for guessing.... and by the way you are faking not me. also all other poems of you can be good if printed on toilet paper. people can really enjoy and u will get 8 stars.

Me:
O My Gosh! Who am I conversing with? I thought, I probably was conversing with a doting father, a loyal husband, an obedient son, but I wasn't aware I was debating with an insensible, crass, rude, indifferent grown-up man; who thinks shit, talks shit and writes shit.

Awesome attitude, Brother! Keep it up. This surely will take you to a fetid potty, perhaps you are already there. Pick-up a pen if you have that guts and brains to write something creative which would make sense to yourself and co-relate at least to people who know you. I’d rather turn you off and look-up to people who make sense to me, my life, my family, and my friends. Don't you worry about how much stars I get, you'd rather worry about how many stars you get for such a nasty attitude.

Him:
I wanted to blow up the asylum which u were seeking. You are definitely not what u are trying to show others on the Facebook.

Me:
Wow! Awesome, Brother! I like your fighting attitude. Just for your information, people in here who know me are quite aware of me. And there’s no specific need for me to make a show-off. I propose ending this here.

Him:
in my view fb is the place wherein most of the people are trying to show what they are not. thus picked on you. pls read poem The road not taken by Robert frost. hopefully u will understand what i was trying to say.this poem has the fighting attitude , it lifts the spirits and not your poems on death and hair dye. also i Cud not understand your expectation of appreciation of your poem by everyone. what kind of expectation is this??

Me:
Just read the poem you mentioned. Truly inspiring. Thanks for sharing. If you are so much concerned about others showing off in here, why don't you log off permanently? Writing/doing something creative and unimagined is also a road less traveled, Which I did and will continue to do so. I will and would never express or expect unappreciative people like you to acknowledge my work. I have a loving family of friends who guide and appreciate me for whatever I write. I also make it a point to learn from them and their work, instead of arguing, debating, and bragging.
I think I had enough of this. I do not, unlike you, wish to waste my time on such discussions. Thanks once again.

Him:
if you are not showing off then why the hell r u so upset? the shitty, brainless poems of yours are nothing but a waste of time and u just refuse to acknowledge. Further expecting appreciation to such mediocre work is foolish. pls grow up. or alternatively join politics since u are suffering from moral hazard.

Me:
Thank You, Dear. You Won.


“Man with a strong character and moral values won’t ever argue in the first place, but if he’s dragged into it, he will always be the first one to accept a defeat to win naturally.”

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Child Labor



Here's a rhyming poetry I have written for my daughter, which she will recite at her school this month end. I was supposed to write it months back, but hardly had time to do so. Now that I am done, she is glad and ready to recite it. 

The topic (Child Labor) is painful and it is more painful, when nothing is done to mitigate it; despite knowing there are laws against it. Not only everyone (those expressing false empathy toward poor) know how to break the rules; they also know, how to force the law and lawmen to kneel down, with their might.


Children are God’s gift they say,
why are they treated in a bad way.

Some are born in rich homes,
and many in broken domes.

Rich are told, not to work,
why are poor forced to work.

They wish to read and write,
but work day and night.

Their hands bruise and feet swell,
who cares to see, they are not well.

They watch the rich enjoy,
with rags and scrub as their toy.

Child Labor is a crime they say,
but who cares, it is just a claim, anyway. 


Request you to share your views and if possible share this with your friends and family. Note that, I am not trying to promote my work. It is just that, I can't bear seeing a 'Child' slogging for want of money and or food.

Friday, February 7, 2014

Winter Blues

Winter returns gradually,
home -
beyond terrains,
through trees;
to rest in spaces, past hills.


Aging flesh and bones alive; cheer,
approaching spring,
whilst bathing,
but the bar giggles;
"No matter what you do,
thy wrinkles are here to stay."

A humble warm shower, just -
energize aging tones,
to hug lovely spring.