Looking at u…how fun will that be

talking to you…how fun will that be

seeing u frown…seeing that curve go upside down

seeing your eyes sparkle as I look into them

makes me wonder how fun will that be

seeing you play with that curl that keeps falling over your eyes

seeing you tuck it behind your ears

seeing you laugh on my silly wit…

seeing your eyes go shut when you laugh

seeing the way you cover your mouth when you laugh…as if it will let out the secret of your wild self..

making you laugh…makes me wonder how fun will that be…

The smile….the way you walk up to me..

The way you tilt your head when you are upset with me….

The way you look right into my eyes…

makes me wonder how disarming will that be

makes me wonder how fun will that be….

I have always had my doubts regarding religion and the way we practice it. Then there is the question of difference between spiritualism and religion. In recent times I tried to make peace with my conscience which was always at war with my compulsion to go to temples to attain peace. I tried to reason with myself  about the need to be religious (following my religion which is Hinduism in my case). Sometimes some visuals shake you out of your shell where you tend to hide and act as if nothings wrong with this way of life.  I have been going to Tirupati almost every year and everytime  I pose the same question to myself…Why two lines…Why the step-motherly behaviour towards the pilgrims in Sarvadarshanam Queue. Why do VIPs get a straight entry into the sanctum sanctorum, which lesser mortals like us aren’t even capable of dreaming about (unless if u donate a 100KG gold throne, in which case you may even get a chance to hug the IDOL)??. With the ‘chalta hai’ attitude which common people learn to live their lives, I would brush aside all this scepticism and go about attending the duties my religion commands me to perform. 

Every single day, I am torn between my conscience and my faith which tell me that the Photo Frames of the human forms sitting on flowers, with four hands, each holding a weapon or a device to give boons are the Gods. Even calling it faith is technically wrong since I know that this is not right. But the way religion has been taught to me, its pretty hard to mend the ways now. I personally like to think there is some power beyond us, which controls all of this. I don’t like to give it a shape or identity. It is the unknown. This mystery adds to its all powerful image. Then again I question myself that if each of our actions are supposed to have a consequence, then whats the point of seeking forgiveness. It all boils down to us keeping our actions clean. So that should be the only thing a religion should teach us. Rest of it is all human-made addendums and amendments. There is one more personal theory of mine about our need to have a God. It lets us think that there is someone looking over us, who will take care of everything, who will make sure that everything ends up well. This helps us to concentrate on our task and let God take care of consequence. Sometimes we feel too small with the whole world surrounding us. Human beings tend to not believe in random. This leads to the inference that someone up there must be making sure that this whole system runs smoothly. We should give a chance to randomness. In every event we either search for the cause or try to predict the consequence. What if there is no such relation for our daily happenings. What if every event in your life is just a new node rather than a part of a thread of events. 

A freak show called Dream..

Hey..where am I?? What is this I am wearing....a freaking camouflage uniform?? Am I in the US army uniform??? No, I don't think I have the cap. Hey where have my hair gone. Bloody hell!!! who has shaved it off??? And why the hell am I so cool about it. Why am I not doing anything about it??....Where has the camouflage gone. The pants are still there. Why just the white vest. Hey that guys saying something. What m I picking there. Holy Mother of God!!!! thats a freaking AK-47. Why am I following this guy. Where am I following this guy. What the hell is going around.... Now that I realize, what am I doing in these rocky surroundings and who the hell are all these other guys with bandanas tied around around their heads. WoW!!! the vest and the AK-47 around my neck...now thats cool...OH!! lo!!! the city is on fire..it looks like a scene from LOTR...what is that tall building...thick black smoke is coming from its' top floors...its the LIC building...hey...is it vizag...yes it is...thats jyothi book depot.....this pastry is awesome. I should have one more...may be pack a few for the road..this place is cool...with the gaming consoles and all...my sisters calling me...shes always in such a hurry.....where is my gun...hey thats not AK-47...thats a Maverick..thats my favourite in CS...whats with all the snow around...since when does it snow in vizag...oh gunshots!!!! Take cover..Take cover!!!....whats that in my hand now...thats a bomb disposal kit...where has all the snow gone...its all dusty around..Oh wait....I know this place....theres a bomb planted by the terrorists...I need to dispose it...there it is...the beeps getting louder...it may explode anytime now...why am I not running away...the bombs still in my hands..it should have exploded by now...why is it not exploding...the beeps not stopping either..bloody hell...somebody make it stop....its the alarm on ur phone u idiot!!!...oh yeah...switch it off.(long yawn...rub the eyes...take a stock of the situation)..lets go back to sleep...now where was I....:-)


It is only in sleep that true imagination ever stirs within us. Awake, we never imagine anything#Dreams         -JKJ

My Rainy Days....

The more I am away from home, the more I miss it. The rainy days of KGP...It was green and beautiful all around. Of all the good things about rains in kgp, the best is having power at home while it is still drizzling lightly outside. The harmonically soothing sound of water droplets dripping from the rooftop, the infrequent sound of a vehicle breezing through the street, the driver of course trying to get fast to house and have a hot cup of chai while he was still wet and cold, some Rafi or Kishoreda from my Dad’s collection, and to top it all, garma-garam pakode with a hot cup of coffee...” Gar Bar-ru-e-Zamin Ast; Hamin Ast, Hamin Ast Hamin Ast”....

The cricket in rain(ya...we were that cricket crazy)...the cycle races in rain....the running in rain just for the fun of it (did just once...for lifetime)...when u get home drenched after all that was mentioned above...and when ur mother tries to dry ur head fast so that u don’t catch a cold...while cursing the rain “paadu varsham...enta kashtapadtunnado na babu”....instead of feeling guilty...all that was there was a sense of completeness in heart....the sense that this can happen only at home...the right place to be...

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

The Man In The Arena

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

-Theodore Roosevelt (April 23, 1910)

Invictus

One of my favorite poems

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley