Thursday, December 13, 2007

News wrap-up, 12 Dec 07, New Delhi

Mahatama Vs Modi



There is a lot of mudslinging that is going on between the ruling BJP in Gujarat and the ruling Congress of the UPA of the centre. And frankly, it hurts. For it is neither good for the state of Gujarat, which can easily be described as one of the most prosperous Indian states, and the country, that is most recognized for its communal tolerance, at least in the immediacy of the recent past.

Speaking is the easiest way of courting trouble. And who else can exemplify it as well as the BJP. If we recall, during the national elections before the present govt came to power in 2004, according to me just one quote from the BJP Stalwart Sushma Swaraj buried whatever little hope they had of getting back to power. She said, ‘If Sonia becomes the Prime minster of India, I will shave my head.” I think that statement was one of the most significant reasons of the ruling party losing out. Sonia just had to refuse. And that is exactly what she did, and rest as they say is history.

According to me what the Chief Minister of Gujarat is saying about Sohrabbuddin is not the actual problem (though it is serious enough), but what he said while wrongly referring to Mahatma Gandhi is where his problem lies. As someone who subscribes to Gandhian ideology completely, I feel that was a serious error. Serious enough for the people to vote against it. And if the present Govt in Gujarat falls down, I feel it would be solely due to this very reason. I wish Mr Modi had known that Gandhi’s first name is Mohandas not Mohanlal.

Kumble’s men



I liked the way Anil Kumble led the team as a captain. I think the honour bestowed on him, though late, couldn’t have been better timed. Playing at home against a formidable team like Pakistan, both his courage and temperament were put to test. And just as anyone had imagined, the intelligent and thinking player, as he is known to us, delivered the right substance, displaying an amazing proportion of maturity.

India smashing the Pakistanis at home soil after 27 years could not have been possible without a sizable support and leadership from Kumble. I think now the BCCI should keep him for a while so that he consolidates himself and not make him another of those mistakes by putting unnecessary restrictions and disputing his views till such time he breaks down. We don’t want him to become another Tendulkar, Dravid or Ganguly. I hope they heed attention to this small request. But it will be interesting to note what actually happens when the new Indian coach Gary Kristen joins the team. Will he too, like his predecessor, ruin the team by shoving large doses of horror in them by dropping them suddenly, or will he consider a real future for the team. Let us see whose payroll he remains on, the outsiders or the BCCI.

Winter in Delhi



Hey folks, we are in thick of the winters in Delhi with the night temperature dipping up to six degrees and the days staying at just over 20. I have decided to play this winter, instead of snuggling under the blanket. So, to start with I am off to Dehradun on the morning of 24th by Shatabdi for Christmas at Missouri. Once back, we are planning to take a long drive through the hinterland of Rajasthan in my Car meeting old friends and making new ones.

Just love the weather… I really love the large doses of Sarsoon ka Saag and Gazar ka halwa. And the whiskey (my brand is teachers, or Royal Challenge/ Stag on the rainy days), off course tastes great. A BIG WINTER HUG TO ALL YOU MY BLOG FRIENDS.



Tuesday, December 11, 2007

When Words Drum the Retina


When Words Drum the Retina

Times around, thoughts home bound
When words drum the retina
That fails to see the hyena
Crossing the stream up-close
Hiding fear in its prose
When it juggles random options
There aren’t many
To choose from, to corner
Ideas then, suddenly, come tumbling
Sending me helter-skelter
Running behind words, breathless
Running hard not put down by their teasing
And winning most times
The final exhale with a satisfied smile
“Why do you do this”, I ask?
Not allowing the stubbornness to mask
Behind a hard and woody cask
There is never an answer
But I find myself staring at my shadow
Drenched in whiskey
Struggling to fight, repenting
Trying all over again…



This can’t be a writer’s block
If it is, it indeed is a shame
To turn me away from what I love
Without a reason to blame.

Monday, December 03, 2007

A Fine Tommorow - No love lost



Beyond words
Ripe with anticipation
The various hues of a contained mood
Submerged under a sea of philosophy
And a dose of history
Seeking trouble
To run away from trouble
Silently
Intelligently
Absorbing strains; living relationships
Chained, but free
Tied to an invisible tree
That grows humanity
As candid fruits on the global tentacles
Move over old jokes
Camaraderie, moral values, love
Run away ‘basics’
I am busy adding the new concoction
Without hurry, without desperation
I am paid to conquer
New ideas, recipe for celebration

From Alain Schnapp’s Discovery of the Past

What’s your problem, history?
We are not a mystery
As you accuse us to be
We are, in fact, you in the making
Only less rigid, less mean
We shed a tear when the loser falls
Rain the ambition all around
Not like you beating chest
And jumping on the hollow ground
We date the future
To impress it with promise
And promise, promise galore
We expose the tomorrow
To become a medium between you, history
And the history which is yet to be lived
Many Gods, however sexy their intention
Can’t put actions in tomorrow’s world
However generous they might be with their wishes
Granting them magnanimously
Come dance with the oldies
Allow me to show the way
Listen to me first
Then fearlessly, have your say


Warlord is a rabbit
Girls roam caged free
Cities breathe fire and ammunition
Hatred is the new magic potion
Some sell death
Some take the sellers
Sellers again run amok
Faking shelter, killing with shock
All in the name of liberty
A few can holiday in fancy camps
As heads roll
And millions are found in the hole
Don’t be confused history
We are just teaching you a lesson
Loading our cannon
With food and gunpowder alternately
To look holy and saintly
Meek are no longer mean
Perhaps they never were
For they are the real brave
Unafraid to embrace the might, unrepentant
And hurry to their grave


White, green, saffron and red
All join together to make a bed
Black as charcoal
One that stains the clean
But leaves the conniving
Ambitious and mean
Fighting must not stop
The policy makers seldom proffer in open
But after every disaster they say
Oh God! If only we had a way
To save the innocent
But don’t you worry they say next
Whatever it takes, we will fight
The rats out of their shelter with fright
The other despots take the bait
And meet their planned fate
People rejoice over dead bodies
Peace of death that they had felt
And that made them repent
All the wealth, ammunition and fire power
Our memory is short
Or we leave a history
Compelled in sub conscious not to lose
In glimmer, loss or gain
A slice of our cherished pain

So it is our admiration
For you lovely history
That we must work hard
To lose or make lose
In pursuit of a victory
We must smile struggling
Fighting, killing and loving
Big games, false promises
Because there is always a choice
That clouds our opinions
Logic is clear
We are not loosing method
If thousands die
For if they live
Penniless will we become
And elections won’t be such a fun
Without all that money
Republicans and the Democrats won’t fight
Tooth and nail
And run or loose like a snail
There won’t be entertainment then
Papers won’t sell
Opinions won’t auger well
TV commentators will be jobless
And people will wonder hapless

It is simple isn’t it?
How history is made
Copied well a proven record
Cast in a newer block
And stamped new in the name of holy God
Reasons change
But fate doesn’t
Forever it will remain so
As we find among ourselves
Friends and foe
Throwing white pigeons in the air
And catching them again the next day
To free once again…
The cycle goes on
Friends, dad and mom
Change we will surely bring
In the manner we sing ahead
Peace, harmony and tolerance
Before firing unprovoked
Yet again, over the peaceful fence.

© Kulpreet Yadav 2007