Something, Anything.

And in the Mumbai blasts,
Did any of your kin die?
Or any for whom you would shed a tear?
Would you have to skip a meal?
Or suffer damage to property?
Or have effect on monthly wages?

Then why do you say
You are affected?

You feel angry?
Sad?
Anxious?
Threatened?
You could have been there, right?
So something must be done, you say.

You are right,
Something must be done -
But what?

You say - something. Anything.
Quick action.
Strong steps.
Ban the ***,
Hang the ***,
Raid the ***,
Kill the ***.

But then.
Hundreds die
Of floods
In Bihar every year
Or in Orissa of heat
Or in Delhi of cold
And on the day of such news
You calmly sip your morning-tea
And fold the paper
And call up your son.

What then?
Isn't it ironic
That when those people
Feel threatened
And insecure;
And some rebel outfit
Or insurgent group
Promises them security,
And they follow blindly,
You call them poor illiterates.

Come to think of it,
They too are just doing something.
Something, anything.

- Kriti Sen Sharma
Image credits: http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/11/mumbai_under_attack.html
----------------------------------------------------
(Poem 1 of 2 written as a reaction to Mumbai terrror attack, November 2008. Read other poem here.)

Was asked by friend, Deepu George, to write in my reactions to the terror attack. He planned to read out such inputs on his radio show (aired on WUVT). These two poems were written as a result of Deepu's request. However, after writing the poems I felt that many people might take offense at my emotions about the attacks. Eight months later, I feel these poems can now be released.

Firstly, Switch off the TV

Those who have lost someone of their kin, or someone close to heart, or those who have suffered loss of property in the recent tragedy in Mumbai, might find the following piece offensive. The millions of other people are requested to read on.
***

First of all,
Switch off the TV.
Don't look at the papers.

Instead
Go watch a movie
Gossip about stingy relatives
Gorge on glorious food
Or shop till you drop.

Then you will realize
You have not been affected.

And then
Before you go to sleep
Think -
Can you do something
To prevent another Mumbai
And if the answer is yes,
Get up and start working on it.

Otherwise go to sleep
And remember -
Every scared and threatened mind
Is another victory in the terrorist's tally.

- Kriti Sen Sharma
(Unaffected.
But till when?)
----------------------------------------------------
Image credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/soumik/3062552427/

(Poem 2 of 2 written as a reaction to Mumbai terrror attack, November 2008. Read other poem here.)

Was asked by friend, Deepu George, to write in my reactions to the terror attack. He planned to read out such inputs on his radio show (aired on WUVT). These two poems were written as a result of Deepu's request. However, after writing the poems I felt that many people might take offense at my emotions about the attacks. Eight months later, I feel these poems can now be released.

I saw them together

I saw them together:

1.
The bushy tail
of a running squirrel
going swish and swash.

And a jogging girl's
Pony tail
Bobbing up and down.

2.
Two planes.

One big one small.

One fast one SLOW.

Flying ^{.....high....} flying _....low....

A white trail behind one,
A constant "whirring" sound from the other.

3.
A bevy of leaves -

Young yellow
and Fresh green

On a single tree.

4.
Bright red berries,
on a tree.
Lush green grass,
below.
And to fill the empty spaces,
pure blue sky beyond.

---

Turn Turn Turn

It was raining leaves today.

The wind picked up leaves
From the bough of almost naked trees
And strew these leaves around
According to its' many whims.

I was in the car
And the wind never touched me.
What struck me instead
Was the sight of a faraway tree
And the leaves floating towards me.

As if the magic spell of a lovely fairy
Was casting its' spell on me.

**

Later in the day
I was outside
Dipping my feet in rivers running below.

The wind was still up
And by this time
Most of the leaves were down below.

The wind was in no mood
To let the leaves rest.
A relentless architect - the wind.

And the leaves
Performed cartwheels
Appearing like gears turning round and round -
Naughty frolicsome energized.

In their combined entirety,
They formed gushing streams, torrents
Gullies, rivers
And flowed down alleys
And roads and walkways
Under the feet of men
And into the hearts of those who noticed.

**

PS:
The title was inspired by the following song (definitely recommended):

Youtube search link.

**

If you liked this, you will like:
And The Leaves That are Green
The Butterflies

Creating Notes with Silence

I was sitting in the balcony with the laptop on my lap,
thoughts in my mind forming words on the screen.
The time was evening,
and while us "unnatural" beings
turned on lights and tubes,
the rest of the natural order was ending the day.

This town of mine, this town where I live,
is kind.
People live here, but the sounds of nature can still be heard.
And silence, when presented, is not disturbed.

That day, it was the silence that screamed out to me.
A faint hum, though -
that of birds chirping,
emanated from far corners,
and merged with the silence.

Suddenly ,

the canvas of the sky
was painted with the passage of a flock of birds.
I saw them -
every soldier steady and firm,
every motion synchronized,
every path identical.

As they weaved their magical path,
astounding onlookers but attracting none -
not a single sound escaped their regiment.
And the tranquility of the moment was not broken.

Truly,
the greatest silent orchestra was performed that day.


PS: This poem describes one of the two sights that I saw that day.

Tagged

Here's my addition to this list of those moments of life that make life what it is... Beautiful.

i.
Sitting on the grass - Dejected
Then spotting a squirrel playing nearby.

ii.
Waking up to a beautiful dream.

iii.
Beautiful weather - a splendid day
A spring in your step
And for some reason
Yet incoherent in your mind,
You are on top of the world
And suddenly
The song on the shuffle
Mirrors your exact sentiments.

iv.
Chance meeting with girl
Whose thoughts makes your heart skip a beat.

v.
And she smiles at you.

vi.
Cycling downhill
Down down down...
Wind places people time
Rush past.
And you are unstoppable -
You are born free.

Bon Appetit

When you take in your daily spoonful
Of milk, cereal, care and worry
Do you remember the people
Who do not worry while eating -
They worry about it.

When having dinner
With egos, quarrels and tiffs
Sitting around you
Do you remember the people
Locked in prison cells
For someone's fault or theirs.
They too have dinner
But with walls for company.

While music to the ears
Pleases some people no more,
Artillery and gunshots
Abuse and injustice
Wails and stifled cries
Are all that some others get.

----

This image is very relevant to the poem. Please do visit.

Meanwhile, I am waiting for permission from the artist to add his/her image on my blog.

Kid

Kid

Smiles back at me

Aloo chaat in hand

Watching cars pass by.

Inhaling fumes all day

As he dishes out his fare

To hungry wayfarers.

His smile is real

But his life is not.
















(written during my Kolkata trip in June 2008)

Haiku

Here are two samples of Haiku that I came up with - the first one is inspired by a prayer book that I read.

**

Bring me to that moment
where I am at peace.
And let me remain there.
**

I found the secret of living -
In one go,
let it all go.
**

Memories Pops Out of Nowhere

On my visit to Kolkata,

Memories pop out of nowhere.

One day,

Car stuck at random intersection.

Tap at car window -

Hawker selling fare,

Sweet fruit called 'Aash Phol'.

As kids, we would spend afternoons

Devising ingeneous strategies

To bring these fruits

Down to earth.

'Fruits' of our labour,

Eh?

Of another summer holiday

Long gone past.

Another day,

An expert driver

Takes us through

The winding roads

Of a short-cut.

I read the signs

And I notice

The name of the road -

Gorfa.

A friend lived there,

A friend with similar tastes

In music and life.

He would always invite me home

But I never went

Giving one excuse or the other.

That day

I crossed his street

For the first time.

But our paths do not cross anymore

And probably never will -

But who knows?

Haiku

There was a poetry submission contest for Virginia Tech's grad handbook. They specifically stated that "ideal poems would be haikus, 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables."

I found out a little about Haikus and read some at http://www.toyomasu.com/haiku/#akutagawa.

Then I went on to write my first three Haikus.

1.
Simple tea
with friend by side
smells better.

2.
Words clash.
Then eyes meet.
Smile wins.

3.
My new friends
meet old friend.
River and ocean.

The Butterflies

From my vantage point
In my second floor room,
At a certain time of the year,
I get to see a fantastic sight.

The tree before my window
Is a very greedy tree –
Hundreds of thousands of butterflies
Are held captive by it.

But when autumn comes
And a strong wind rises,
The tree can hold them no more.
Then, these butterflies break free.

When the wind comes
And sets them free,
These butterflies
Do not fly away immediately.

For a while
They twirl and float around
Their place of captivity,
Before descending finally
To their flight of glory.

Come to think of it now,
In that short while,
These butterflies, most probably,
Stick their tongues out at the greedy tree
And proclaim,
“Weeee. I’m free. I’m free.”

And then, hundreds of butterflies
Fly around on the whims of the wind.
Some reach beyond the compound wall,
And some go out of sight.

Finally, all these butterflies
End their flight by falling to the ground.
And on landing,
They turn into dead leaves.

Of course, there are unlucky ones
Which die the moment they break free
And just like any other dead leaf,
Fall straight down.