cake

take a look at the first picture. i am already licking my lips.... aren't you ? Irresistible !!! Pavlov was so right ! But my purpose was not to make you hungry or make you crave for chocolate cake. i want to ask you ....

" what is more important to you ? the cake or the icing ?"

i have often harassed my friends with this question....

surprisingly the answers were mostly the same. the icing.

true. the icing ....how tempting it looks actually determines whether i want to plunge into the cake or not. but then what if the icing is delicious and high hopes come dashing down when we discover the cake is too dry and not so tasty ?

ok....i think i have done a lot of cake talk. now let me come to the point. when i say cake and icing i don't mean the cake i was talking about ..... i mean the cake that i have shown below it. it's clear . that by the cake and the icing i mean the stratified society. the question is ....how does it matter ?
maybe it does. maybe it does answer the age old question....communism or capitalism ? i feel there is equally strong arguments on both sides... so its often difficult for " still deciding what i believe in" individuals like me, to ever support any side whole heartedly. sometimes i feel maybe like the answers to most intriguing questions, the answer lies somewhere in between.

a cake that is equally chocolaty throughout.....yum !!!

way above the ground i stand on...

you told me that fairytales were true...the cloud on the snow...the rainbow on the fall...the full moon and the pines...the mysterious darkness underground...i hold you all responsible. you made me look different....you made me look differently.you unclothed all the restraints in me and let loose the "pagli".

now i wonder, as i stand stranded between the past and present...when will i return home.

escape

when my strings start playing an unknown tune on its own... i feel uncomfortable. unfamiliar. yet since it is playing in my strings ...it must be part of me. i fail to decode these strange messages i receive from my unconscious self. but when they begin making sense in the music of floyd or in the voice of joan baez...i find solace. music it seems can make even the deepest depression an experience to treasure.

the revolutionary

...standing on the doorway i saw... that face. it was intently staring on to the computer screen. the light of the screen reflecting on his glasses. or perhaps it was the spark in his eyes. barricaded by books....he tried to decipher what those words recorded in them mean today. he has a dream. those eyes fail to conceal it. even behind the laughter, the trivalties and the living of the everyday life...there is an urgency. an urgency to be patient ... an urgency to shape those dreams but not hastily.

they look like any of us . but they have a different kind of eyes. perhaps they need glasses to look clearly at the objects in front of them. but they see far ahead in to the future without any aid and understand the past as if they were a part of it.

they are one of us. in fact , we are one of them before we snub our sensitivity and ampute our will to change.

"One must harden without ever losing tenderness." - Che Guevara

gulping down to accept

the Animesh will drift away...

like a log struggling in the waves...

and the Madhabilata that had bloomed on it will be torn apart.

But she will grow roots again and hold on even when the violent waves try to uproot her.

She will wait...

hoping the log ,

perhaps even accidentally

will be thrown back

in this turbulent sea

to her.

noirashya

You need not be the same
You need not take the blame
Choose what you want to do
Let not others choose for you
Dare to be the different
Dare to be a begining
Everything just falls in place
If you just follow your heart…

two years ago i wrote this song.
but today i feel the words should be :

You need to be the same
Or you need to take the blame
Never choose what you want to do
Let others choose for you
don't be foolish enough to be the different
Always follow the set path...
Everything goes haywire
If you follow your heart…

daniel pearl and those like him

a strange chanting.......he stood there with both hands tied at the back. was looking straight ahead. was there fear in the eyes? was there regret? just a blank acceptance it did seem. i cannot say. you couldn't look for long into those eyes. the strange chanting...they pushed him to the ground. and did it. i didn't see a moments hesitation in "its" hand. it wasn't a human being who did it though he looked like one. the strange chanting....blood spurting out...."it" beheaded him. no it wasn't that quick. "it" made it a point to show the slow separation. "it" didn't stop there... went on to place his head on his hands. i couldn't look anymore. those eyes stared back at me . a strange chanting......

he paid a heavy price. was it because he wanted to venture out of the everyday route? "his head on his hands" .....did it mean......those brutal maniacs wanted to show that it was all in his hands....he chose this fatal end by choosing the path he did.

probably not so graphic....probably not so evident.....aren't many individuals forced to chop of that part of them that doesn't fit into the pre designed norms of this society?