CROSSROADS

Have you ever stopped

a wrong

by doing wrong?

Have you ever not

hurt someone

by hurting someone else?

Ever found yourself standing

at the crossroads

when all ways are right?

I am sure you have and so have I...

Conflict and confusion

rules the roost

And you got no one for your

morale to boost

You can try and do right

but you'll still be wrong

You can try and be happy

but guilt will be too strong

I tried to be selfless

and put my friend first

But the one who got hurt

Said it wasn't just

You try to pull them together

But they'll ask you to choose

No matter who you pick,

You're still gonna lose...

Battlefield That Was A Bridge

In a span of lifetime we all strive to be a better person. A better son/daughter, a better sister/brother, a better friend, but she strove to be a better cheater, a better liar and a better traitor.

Armed with manipulation, she conquered the truth. She could never be the bridge where feelings could cross and be understood as they were. The sides always got the manipulated maligned version- what they wanted to hear. The bridge just stood there for years mastering this very art.

There was a side which was conventional, never wanting to change with supreme authority and then there was another full of unconditional love, wanting to live every moment to the fullest begging the other side to accept the change. But with her as the manipulative intermediate, the conventional became adamant blinded by the false authority she made them see they had and the one full of love kept feeling rejected, compromising till it became so weak that it became a beggar for love.

The rigid side had their own politics going on. They had their own ego clashes and frustrations to care about. None of the issues were taken care of, the only solution was to leave them unsolved, half-buried only to be made weapons of self-destruction in case of arguments.

The once filled with love side became so depressed that the rigid side even though there, was invisible. In search of love it would stop randomly, share a story, laugh a little, lend a hand and feel loved. Even a traveler or a gypsy would become source of love, making it believe that love will make them stay. It didn't and so their very being then became a reason of betrayal. Unable to understand the conflict and unwilling to give up, love was for it to give all that was, for others to love it back.

And she just stood there frozen, thinking she made both sides happy. To each side she said she supported them. To each side, she lied and cheated.

The bridge that she was, could have been a balance. The bridge that she was could have told the truth and ceased to exist. She could have been a reason to celebrate love but she chose to be a traitor.

For both sides had their reasons, no one wanting to compromise. For their lives were just about fighting the other side and winning till the day came when the bridge was just a place for their battles to be fought.

The person that the bridge was, had long ceased to exist!

EPHEMERAL ODYSSEY

[I'm the only girl studying mechanical engg. in UIET, Panjab University, with 36 odd guys.]

I postponed writing this article for 10 days and today when I picked my pen, I felt it coming my way..

Oh yes I have to accept it now,

The end is coming, the end of my UIET days…

It pinched softly; it’ll take some time to sink in. The fear of losing it all, the days gone by, trying hard to hold this quick sand.

It was a hot day; I slept till late noon when a sudden phone call made me attend counseling. It was like I had gone to take a stroll, unprepared, all on my own. My name was called, shocked, puzzled; I went with friends and was the last one to walk out with a seat.

Ah! It was dramatic.

Now, I was a mekanchi, had never portrayed myself holding a hammer and bending “THE stubborn” iron rod. Still when asked the reason for opting, during PDP, I boasted, “Well, I loved playing with nuts and bolts since my childhood..!” God that terrible answer landed me in many a PDP sessions, making me act a la SRK to ball dancing with a girl, from endless intros in Hindi to remembering all the names.

Then came the “F-day”, everyone dressed in their best. The curiosity, the eagerness, the fear, the excitement, every wannabe jumbled with side-liners and their self-imposed right to suggest the last minute do’s & don’ts. I was random, left alone, but happiness found me hysterically. I hardly knew this senior who managed to get “Dahi & Cheeni” for my luck.

I was touched.

Before I could transit, the cupid suddenly appeared in every nook & corner, hot shots getting hooked and their long kept love blossoming. Goonj was a necessary evil and the mekanchi me with the elite few who could only cha-cha to the beats of Punjabi-flu.

The freshman year ended and EEE departed from our combined class. For the first time I missed my gossip care takers, only BOYS sitting all around. I hardly knew any. All I could hear was “B!@#$%^, M!#$%^&, ....!”. I guess my feminity was too less to leash them to their civility. I had no idea of bunks or the shift of classes or the syllabi and people would say, “Guys must be dying to help you yaar.”

The 2^nd year made me so carefree that sleep was my only delight. My heroic act of sleeping on the front bench was marveled by fellow mekanchis. By fall I managed to earn a few good friends. Meanwhile our college got transformed into a construction site taking away our dear stairs. It was that time of college life when MBA, GRE, GMAT were on the roll and Bull’s, Career assignments would rule the roost. Everybody had their own cobwebs, all trying hard to survive and succeed.

Final year brought me back to the same “F-day” stage, compeering the event, nervous contenders coming up to me for last minute suggestions. Even my class-movie outing was a late bloomer; the only movie I watched at this time, with 5 guys was unfortunately 5-starred “DEV-D”. All this followed by a stint with eve-teasing while driving directionless, shouting “I love you” & “Will you marry me?” at every girl that passed and “Hongshu pongshu Shushu” to a chink (no offence). The same boys now turned MEN who finally evolved enough to see me as their classmate.

Today there is no specific reason to lament. Nostalgia has turned all the vices into virtues. There is no denial but acceptance of the fact that I’m going to miss all the attention I got, being recognized as ‘the only girl’, will surely miss my class fellows even those I never talked to and on top of it I will miss this pestering routine I had these 4 years, my being a part of UIET.

UIET may witness millions of such stories but for me UIET will always remain a beautiful chunk of my life from where I emerged more strong, more mature and of course more monsieur.

There will be many endings and new beginnings will come my way but all this while,

“I will miss being Ms. Mekanchi”

["Mekanchi" - a student of mechanical engineering.

"PDP" - personality development program precisely ragging.

"F-day" - fresher's day.

"SRK" - Shah Rukh Khan

"B!@#$%^, M!#$%^&" - hindi abuses]

To my GRANDPA

[My grand father expired when i was 2. Written at the age of 12.]

Grandpa grandpa where are you?
I want to come there and meet you.
I was very small when God took you.
Everyday since I keep remembering you.

Would we meet again,
Or wont we meet again?
The thought of this question,
Brings me to pain.

Don't you want to meet me,
Or are you always with me?
Don't you want to see me,
Or are you always watching me?

You always loved me,
Don't you love me now?
Or have you taken another birth,
And don't know me now?

The series of such questions extend till infinity,
But still I don't know your proximity.

"MIDDLE CLASS IRONY"

He earns hard and dies everyday
For a better tomorrow,in search of a happy day
With his children,
When he could spend time and play
He loves them so much
He knows at heart
But in the evening,when he returns
For the next morning's start
Totally exhausted
Not a trifle left in him
To share a moment or two
With his kith and kin
For the sake of his children
He works the whole day
To provide good food,education
And to keep all troubles at bay
For working so hard
His children are the cause
And this is the irony
Of his life because
He works every hour
To make his children happy
But they miss him every second
Which makes them unhappy...

"I" NEED TO CHANGE FIRST

I need a small corner,belonging to me,
where I'll live my life,no fear 'll reach me.
I don't need a luxurious life,with all my name and fame,
residing quietly in that corner,playing life-game.
I need help in the days of pain,but a single hand will do,
not many but my own folks,to share a joy or two.
The world today,as I know, is full of duplicity,
in my corner,what I'll seek is simplicity.
Ups & downs are a part of life, why make hue and cry,
if not much,to search a solution,at least we should try.
In my corner,let me live a pure life,let me not pretend,
let my life be short but beautiful,let it not extend.
Indeed the deeds count over the days,if ego kept at bay,
I don't need appreciation a lot,forever it can't stay.
The world today is polluted enough,everything impure,
in such environment,how can one live feeling safe and secure?
Chauvinism is the fashion today,all following the trend,
in this mad race,their crooked ways,no one going to mend.
Selfishness is the religion today,one's integral part,
green paper is what weighs,over the golden heart.
Everyone today is confused,everyone perplexed,
nobody knowing, why the world is vexed.
I am depressed,I am disgusted,
not only me,everyone is frustrated.
I need to cry, I need to scream,
why peaceful life is becoming a dream?
I can't bear this pain, I need to run away,
not expecting from this world, let me first mend my way.
Leave me in seclusion please, let me be in solitude,
to reinvent my true self, shedding this artificial attitude.

[written in august 2003]

WOVEN EMOTIONS

It was too hot. He had gone to purchase some of his necessities as he was to leave for his hostel in two days. He had not recovered from his high fever, when his blood pressure dipped and left him unconscious. Thankfully his cousin had accompanied him, who helped him reach home. It was the scorching sun coupled with the long distance to the whole-sale shop, so as to save money his father gave him, which resulted in this condition. He purchased a new wrist for his father’s watch and a wallet for his mother.

His mother was attached to him. She never went to see him off as she could not bear the moment of separation from her only child. Today she was too busy attending to relatives, knowing she has just two days left to attend to her son. She served him the lunch and told him to rest. As all went for the afternoon nap, she quietly took her purse and went out. She had saved money from the monthly expenses, to purchase a shirt for her son. It was a bright blue shirt, his favorite color, which she hid in her almirah.

His father was a proud man for his son was the only one pursuing science among their relatives. He always wanted to tell his son how he held his head high but emotions never transformed in words. All that his son could earn for his achievement was a ‘pat on his back’. He was in debt; he did not hesitate while taking a loan, to deposit his son’s medical college fee. Any extra expense disrupted the whole month’s expenditure schedule. Today he had to book the tickets for his relatives yet another hole in the pocket.

Next morning, relatives left. His father went to office and mother started packing his bag after finishing the daily chores. He was fine, still his mother wanted him to rest, she had forgotten to tell her husband about his illness. In the afternoon, postman baba knocked the door and handed over the envelope to his mother. “Remind doctor bachua that I’ll always account for a free check-up at his clinic” he said with a coughing smile. It was his result letter.

He had FAILED!

Two drops of water trickled down his cheek and fell on the result card. His world had come to an end as if he was holding a death sentence. All the sufferings and sacrifices of his parents revolved around him, accusing him of breach of trust. He didn’t know how to announce this news to his parents. He stood up and quietly placed the leather wrist in his father’s drawer and the wallet in his mother’s closet. Every second that passed made him more silent with guilt.

As he told his mother, her worried face became still for a while. She was baffled; she didn’t know how to react for the moment. Her teary eyes consoled him and told him to face this failure with strength while deeply inside she knew what was going on in her son’s mind. She packed the bright blue shirt without letting him know, crying silently for her helplessness. Thinking how her husband will take this news, she started praying to GOD to give her son ample strength to bear this pain.

This year his father didn’t want his son to leave empty handed, he wanted to gift him something. Due to exceeded expenditure this month, he decided to give up his afternoon tea to compensate and brought a pair of new shoes for his son. Satisfied that this gift will boost his morale, he headed towards home. Ignorant about the new development, his father walked faster than his usual speed, to reach as soon as possible and see the bright smile on his son’s face.

The lobby was dark as his father entered and called his name in excitement while switching on the lights. He prepared himself for stabbing his father right in his heart. He came out with his face down. His father handed him the pair of shoes and told him to check his size. He in turn handed him the result card with trembling hands. His father’s face turned pale and he went inside whipping the sweat on his forehead.

His failure had a valid reason which he never wanted to explain and his father had not the courage to ask.

There was a complete lull while they had their dinner. Nobody spoke a word before they retired to their beds.