The Last Color

 'The Last Color' is a canvas depicting the colourless lives of the protagonists, presented in a bichrome of white and gulabi (Indian pink/fuschia) — their innocence simplicity and emotions, all pure as white — their dreams, aspirations, emotions coveting to be clad in the gulabi, the bright, bold tone symbolising perhaps, the bold dreams that the meek white and the colourless seek to (and dare to) dream of...embrace against the odds of a set up, a society that has long decided that their likes be devoid of colour.

The film unfolds in flashback and traces the lives of its protagonists — a Hindu widow, a Dalit street urchin, a brutalised eunuch, and a continually berated wife — all walking the tight rope of dereliction, penury, and abuse that society has relegated them to.  'The Last Colour' in its not so subtle depiction of depravity is also a tale of the infant new world enkindling hope in bright "gulabi" hues into the lives long deprived of them.

Chhoti (the nine-year-old Dalit urchin uninhibited and emboldened by life's injustices) and her unlikely friendship with Noor (the gracious, shy, white-clad widow, depicted in all her innocence); Chintu, (Chhoti’s nine-year old best friend, the real 'man', whose dreams circle around sending Chhoti to school; his love so pure, writ large in his eyes, his expression) and Anarkali, (the oft brutalised eunuch with the heart warming motherly endowments on Chhoti) are all endearing beyond description. While all these characters are dissimilar on the surface, they are tied together with a common thread. Their bond emanates a warmth, honesty, and spontaneity that resonate with the viewer. Their affections keep the torch of hope alight in the face of the all-pervasive darkness that threatens to drown them at all times. So does the silent endurance of the wife whose personal hell encourages her to ensure a better future for 'her' daughters and emboldens her reluctance to beget a son for fear of bringing a brute into the world.

The film is essentially a comment on the ancient tradition of abandoning widows in Varanasi to fend for themselves and die, weathered by societal norms and customs. It references the Supreme Court of India’s landmark judgement in August 2012 that sought the rehabilitation and empowerment of Hindu widows, following which they celebrated their first Holi in March 2013. Thus, lending a positivity to the scenario, and a much required iteration to the judgement.

Subtle and soulful, this screen adaptation of Celebrity Chef Vikas Khanna’s novel ‘The Last Color’ (directed by Khanna himself), is an iteration that filmmaking is also about making the canvas look appealing to the eye while bringing home what's not so gentle to the heart and surely is unsettling to the brain. The film is loaded with great optimism; its mellow-starkness vibrating the right chords that culminate in Khanna's beautiful invocation of Tagore’s iconic poem, “Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high…”, as the end credits begin to roll.

Painted thus, at the same time, in bold colours and subtle hues that together uphold the truth about human vices and virtues, in all its might, ‘The Last Color’ has every quality of pure cinema that can endure the test of time. It makes a point quite convincingly that filmmaking is not just about making things big and grand by being presented in all starkness. Khanna treats his protagonists with rare subtlety and sensitivity, lending the feel and flavor of an unrehearsed spontaneity to them. Their heartwarming relationships serve to liberate them from their sorrows yet keep them grounded. He extracts genuine emotions out of the actors, and in turn, of the viewers, emphasizing through it all, the value of life and the preciousness of every breath.

आज यूँ ही

आज यूँ ही बैठे बैठे याद उनकी चली आयी है।

फिर मुसकुराहट वो प्यारी लौटी है,

फिर आँख मेरी भर आयी है।

यूँ तो नज़र में रहता है उनका चेहरा हर पहर,

बात भी दिल में होती है उनसे शाम सहर।

मग़र आज शायद बात कुछ ख़ास हो आयी है,

ज़िक्र उनका कुछ ख़ास हुआ है दिल की गहराई में

जो आज यूँ ही बैठे बैठे याद उनकी चली आयी है।

फिर मुसकुराहट वो प्यारी लौटी है,

फिर आँख मेरी भर आयी है।

आँख मेरी भर आयी है।।

ये अधूरा सा जहाँ

तुमसे बिछड़े हम जो कल, मिल सकें फिर कहाँ।

साथ बीते थे जो पल, अब नहीं, पर कशिश उनकी बाक़ी है।

साथ बीते थे जो, कुछ पल, चाह उनकी अब भी बाक़ी है।

महक साथ बीते हुए हर पल की, हर तरफ़ बाक़ी है।

पर हो नहीं जो इसमें तुम, है अधूरा बहुत ये जहाँ!

तुमसे बिछड़े हम जो कल, मिल सकें फिर कहाँ।

परे हमसे बहुत हो तुम, है अधूरा बहुत ये जहाँ!

Our Sun -- An Elegy

Cold!
Cold was thy brow to touch,
No warm hand anymore,
For us to clutch!

No sun did set,
Nor rose a moon.
We came to thee but
Thou hath left er too soon!

We grope for thee,
Oh, Thou art gone!
Er we saw,
Thou had passed on!

All hope dashed
It's now just tears
Unhealed hearts,
For years...and years!

Oh, come back Thee!
We pine, we long.
Come sing to us
Just one more song!

Sweet smiles no more.
No more thy touch!
No warm hand
For us to clutch!

No light anymore
No peace, just tears.
No light anymore
Our Sun, thou hast set!

बेवफ़ा उसे न कहो

ये और बात है, के लगता आज बेपरवाह  है वो,
के हवा दी थी उसी ने, इन मुहब्बत के जज़्बों को।

आज उसके किये वादे की कीमत कुछ नहीं है तो,
दिलबर था वो मेरा, अब बुरा उसे न कहो।

के याद मुझे करके, रोता है तन्हाई में वो,
यकीन नहीं है ग़र, तो चलो फ़र्ज़ ही कर लो।

के अपनी किन्हीं मजबूरियों का क़ैदी है वो,
साथ छोड़ गया है मेरा, तो बेवफ़ा उसे न कहो।

बहुत मुश्किल है मिटाना दाग़, दिल हो या दमन हो,
न दाग़ बेवफाई का, दो उसके दमन को।

जो छू कर गुज़रती है मुझे

जो छू कर गुज़रती है मुझे, हवा,
आँचल तेरा भी छू जाती तो होगी।
के याद करता है तुझे हर घड़ी कोई,
कानों में तेरे कह जाती तो होगी।

सिहर उठता हूँ बारिश की जिन चंद बूँदों से मैं,
तेरे दामन में भी मोती यादों  के भर जाती तो होंगी।
जो तड़प के बरस उठती हैं आँगन में मेरे, घटा,
आँगन तेरा भी अश्को से भिगो जाती तो होंगी।

काँप उठती है जिनके छूने से कायनाथ मेरी,
होठों को तेरे भी यादें वो थरथराती तो होंगी।
जो सिसकती, मचलती हैं मेरे आसमाँ में बिजलियाँ,
रोशन तेरे घर को कहीं कर जाती तो होंगी।

जो जलाती, है चिराग निगाहों में उम्मीद के मेरी, चांदनी,
तेरे दिल को भी सुकूँ दे जाती तो होगी।
जिनसे रौशन है हर घड़ी दुनिया मेरी, यादें ,
चिराग दिल में तेरे भी जला जाती तो होंगी।

दाग़ दिल पे लिया है मैंने

ग़म तेरे न आने के मिला, तो;
शिक़वा तुझसे नहीं ज़िन्दगी से किया मैंने।
दिलो-दायर और के हुए तेरे;
ये भी ख़ामोश खड़े सहा है मैंने।

के तू रुस्वा न हो ज़माने में आह से भी मेरी;
यूं दर्द बेवफ़ाई का तेरी जज़्ब किया है मैंने।
अश्क़ आँख से न एक भी गिरने पाए;
रस्म-ए-उल्फ़त को इस तरह जिया है मैंने।

न  हैराँ उसके जाने से, न परेशाँ तू;
दिल पे फ़ौलाद तेरे रख दिया है मैंने।
के पाक रूहो-कफ़न रहे तेरा, शीन;
दाग़ दामन पे नहीं दिल पे लिया है मैंने।

भरोसा कर लिया मैंने...

चला कुछ सिलसिला ऐसा, उन बिछड़ों को पाने का,
भरोसा कर लिया मैंने तुम्हारे लौट आने का।
आये चार दिन को तुम, बहाना था मनाने का,
तुम्हें हक़ दे दिया मैंने, मेरा फिर दिल दुखाने का।

देकर वास्ता मुझको उन रूठे ज़मानों का,
पता फिर ले लिया मुझसे मेरे दिल के ठिकानों का।
भरोसा फिर किया मैंने, न देखा थे वही, तुम तो,
मौका फिर दिया तुमने तो खुद को आज़माने का।

शुरू फिर सिलसिला है अब, नयी यादें भूलाने का,
तुम्हें न याद करने को, भुलाना उन फ़सानों का
कहा माना नहीं मैंने, कहा दिल ने, "संभल जा" तो,
सज़ा ख़ुदको है दी मैंने, तुम्हें बस नाम बहाने का।

भरोसा फिर किया मैंने, न देखा थे वही, तुम तो,
मौका फिर दिया तुमने तो खुद को आज़माने का।
टूटा दिल मेरा फिर से, भरोसा भी मेरा ही तो;
कुसूर इसमें तुम्हारा क्या, मैं मारा हूँ ज़माने का।

Ah! Train

Sounds travel from such distances,
As you wouldn't travel again.
"You never come to see us now.
So we bring you back some train."

He hugged you tight, kissed your head,
And he boarded his train.
"My love, I'll see you soon."
And he never came again.

Sounds travel from such distances,
As you wouldn't travel again.
"You bring him back to my life!
Now I can't sleep, Ah! Train!"

Sounds traveled from such distances,
As you wouldn't travel again.
"You never come to see us now...
So we brought you back that train."

Busy...

Eyes on target, mouth's but a straight line;
Body and heart and soul all alike unwound.
Busy is the world as it goes,
For riches, and success, and pursuits abound.

"Friends, and love...and life, o' wait!
I'm headed for the stars, be back in no time.
Friends, and love...and life, o' wait!
Will see you here, when I touch the ground"

Busy is the world for it goes around.
To riches, and success, and pursuits abound.

ख्वाब था शायद, ख्वाब ही होगा

यादोँ के उस मौसम से,
कोई आया, मेरे पास में बैठा।
एक पुराना गीत वो लाया, और वही पुरवाई भी,
नज़र को थामे नज़रो से उसने, बीती बातें दोहराईं भी।

साँझ की बेला, और हम दोनोँ,
और मन में वही शहनाई सी।
मेरी बात सुनी भी उसने, अपनी बात सुनाई भी।

यादोँ के उस मौसम से,

कोई आया,मेरे पास में बैठा! 

आज पुराना यादोँ का मौसम, बरसा, मैं मुस्काई भी।
आँख झपकते मैनें पाया फिर वही तनहाई  थी!

ख़ाली था घर का हर कोना, और

वही ग़म की घटा सी छाई थी। 

वक्त  के शीशे से गर्द सी उड़कर 

याद चली कोई आयी थी!

ख्वाब था शायद, ख्वाब ही होगा

यादोँ के उस मौसम से,

कोई आया, मेरे पास में बैठा।

एक ज़माना था कुछ ऐसा दिल में बजी शहनाई थी

यादोँ के उस मौसम में ,

कोई आया था, मेरे पास था बैठा

नज़र को थामे नज़रो से उसने, दिल की बात सुनाई थी

नज़र को थामे नज़रो से उसने, दिल को राह दिखाई थी।

ख्वाब था शायद, ख्वाब ही होगा

यादोँ के उस मौसम से,

कोई आया, मेरे पास में बैठा।

I am...what you made me...eh life!

I signed up for NCC (National Cadet Corps) during my three years of graduation, my first step towards making it to the Republic Day Camp (RDC), at New Delhi (the Mecca for all NCC cadets). One and a half year of rigorous training and loads of hard work bore fruit, and I made it to the RDC. While at the Pre-RD camps I signed up also, for YEP--which meant I would be one of the cadets from India, to represent her in the country I would be sent to, as an 'Exchange Participant', IF selected, of course! Yes, YEP meant Youth Exchange Programme. YEP definitely would be not just a(nother) feather in the cap, but also the bigger and more vibrant one. So, the entire group of YEP signees were on the most serious mission of their lives--being selected! Losing a few hours of sleep each day, in the name of tests and discussions for preparation didn't look like much of a sacrifice!

So, the day soon arrived, a couple of months post RDC, when all the efforts and hard work bore an excellent fruit, and the best news of my life, ever, arrived...yes! I was selected for the ICYEP (Indo-Canada Youth Exchange Programme)! "Seven months on the Programme!" My elation knew no bounds! For, ICYEP is a prestigious cultural exchange programme for the youth (the best of NCC's YEPs), where in the NCC cadets are are looked up to, to represent the beautiful culture called India, in its entirety! My elation and all that is another journey of course, and I would rather not venture on to that road, here...

A couple of months of preparation, and we were all set to go! Two teams of twenty five cadets each. One headed to Toronto, the other, to Vancouver. I went to Vancouver, and never came back the same person!

After a couple of weeks of orientation and acclimatization we finally arrived at the communities we were to be in, for the next three months, a small group of eight Indians, each with a Canadian counterpart, put up as a counterpart pair, with a host family, as a part of it, during our stay. Our routine there mainly included voluntary community service four days a week. The 'work placements' as they were called, were judiciously chosen, and we were all thrilled to be of some use there!

I of course, couldn't have asked for a work place better than the one I had been assigned! The Hilltop House--a senior citizens' home nested on the hill top, in the breathtakingly beautiful, Squamish! Every moment spent at the Hilltop House was sheer bliss for us both--my counterpart and me. So much so, that we always made time to return there to spend at least part of our Saturdays and Sundays with the residents. It was as enriching, as fulfilling it was, to be in company of those lovely people who showered us with immeasurable amount of affection and wisdom! The short span of three months there, left an indelible mark on my personality, and changed me for good! I learnt a lifetime worth of lessons--even more--in that short span! And all this, because of the beautiful people I met there!

Edith Maggie, an extremely affectionate lady, nearing ninety, had been a missionary in India, and nothing gave her more pleasure than seeing me come by! "Here comes my sweet darling as beautiful as her country India!" was her usual welcome note for me, or, "My! How beautiful my bitiya (daughter) looks in her salwar kameez and odhni, with that bindiya on her forehead!" I'd revel in all that affection she would shower on me, realizing little, about the indelible mark she was making on my life! She had Alzheimer's and there were days when she couldn't recall where she was, and who the people around her were...but she somehow always recognized me, and would ask me to help her find her lost shoe, (that she's sometimes be sitting on, on her wheel chair). Immense love from Edith taught me the best lesson of life. That there is no happiness in this world greater than giving happiness and love to those around you! That a touch of affection/love, a smile straight from your heart has the power to soothe and calm even an Alzheimer stricken person, when in deepest of her trauma, of having just been miraculously saved from being drowned by some nasty women! (Edith's bathing days were worst days for her!) The smile that lit up on her face through tears rolling down her cheeks, gave me such great happiness, that no words can ever describe! She loved my visits, for, they transported her to her happy days! And for me, I couldn't get enough of her affection! I always thirsted for more...still do!

Mary Campini, another resident citizen at the Hilltop House, was a beautiful woman with a dainty figure, somewhere in her late seventies. A very gentle, polite person, thoroughly graceful...I loved being with her! She would smile and greet me each day, and always keep a chocolate or some goodies for me! She taught me to make the most of  the time you have, and not to put away for tomorrow, what you really want to do/get from life! That was her life's biggest learning, she'd say. She helped me chisel my love for travel, in its very early stage, through her accounts from her life's experiences...though this wasn't all.

My love for scrabble came from daily scrabble sessions with Mary Donald, a short tempered old woman, who left nothing unsaid, if you rubbed her the wrong way, by way of winning over the game, or something! Too proud to ask you for a game each day, though all she wanted was for you to play scrabble with you. Each day, I'd walk up to her, where she sat alone, scrabble on the table, and ask if she'd do me a favor and let me play a game with her. The glow on her face at that was my reward each day...as also was humility, that I didn't realize then, I imbibed in ample measures!

Reene, a quiet woman, always found in the activity room, like Mary Donald, but with a deck of playing cards, was another person I spent some time with, daily. She'd play rummy all day, punctuated with her meals, or short walks out in the lawn. Reene was 88 years, a person of few words, each a very meaningful one, at that! Serene, unruffled by anything, self contained--that was Reene who had pleasantness writ large over her entire persona. Walks with her were very enriching indeed, for she taught me things so powerful, so very subtly!

Mr. Kurtenacker had a few 'couple-of-thousand piece' completed jigsaw puzzles under his belt, that dwarfed the walls of his room; and a flourishing little garden blooming with pretty flowers and some vegetables...need I say I always got greeted with a lovely flower and a "How u doing today, sweetheart"? A very happy man--never as old as his age, wiser though--who endeared himself to anyone he met--though the last was small! The reason--he was hardly left with any time to socialize with people, from his busy schedule of socializing with and dating nature! Wow!

Those three months were much shorter than usual, and soon I found myself gone from the Hilltop House! We performed a small cultural show for the citizens there, (our entire group of 16 participants) as a mark of out respect to them, and as our way of bidding goodbye. (Tough, tearful goodbyes had already been shared earlier! With promises to return asap! Promises I have yet to be able to keep...promises I long to keep!)

The last I saw of Mr. Kurtenacker was at our community cultural show, with his date, the beautiful Mary Campini, whose nails I'd filed and polished a couple of days ago...Reene, and Mary Donald had made it too, with some others...

Little had I know then, that a few months' hard work and sacrificing some hours' sleep for a few month, could (would) bring such immeasurable returns that enriched me for more than a lifetime! A rewards much larger than the ones I'd aspired for--the pleasure of having the RDC and ICYEP feathers adorn my cap!

This chapter of my life still remains incomplete though, for I have promises to keep--to them, (who, may not even be around anymore!) and to me--I (still) have to go back to Hilltop House...I must! (I hope with all my might, that I do!) Yes...I pine for more! I will! For, I will know no rest until!

आ लगा ले गले

आ लगा ले गले,

के थक गया हूँ बहुत, चलते चलते.

दूर ठिकाना, और धूप भी बड़ी घनी,

ढूंढा बहुत न मिली छाँव ज़रा भी कहीं.

आ लगा ले गले, 

के थक गया हूँ बहुत, चलते चलते.

ढूंढा बहुत न मिली मगर मंजिल मेरी.

ढूंढा बहुत न मिली मगर जो थी ज़िन्दगी.

आ लगा ले गले, 

के थक गया हूँ बहुत, चलते चलते.

आ लगा ले गले,

के तेरे आँचल में सो रहूँ चुपके से मैं भी.

फिर मिलेंगे कभी...

'फिर मिलेंगे कभी' तू ने कह भी दिया
और पलट के कभी याद भी न किया

बड़ी देर मैं, ताकता उस तरफ,
रास्ता, खड़ा तेरा देखा किया
संग चली तो मग़र, चली दो कदम
बीच राह छोड़ मुझसे किनारा किया

न शिकवा कभी कोई मैंने किया,
न तुझको कभी मैंने रुसवा ही किया.
चल पड़ा मैं (भी), निकल आगे बढ़ा,
राह तकता भी कब तक यूँ खड़ा ही खड़ा.

आज कहती है सब थी मेरी ख़ता,

और उसकी मुझे तू ने दी थी सज़ा.
न अर्ज़ी, न ही सुनवाई कोई,
तू तो ए ज़िन्दगी बन बैठी खुदा!

'फिर मिलेंगे कभी' था तू ने कहा,
पर पलट के कभी याद तो न किया.

Anita

"Anita is on leave" one maid at the hostel was telling another...

Yeah, Anita has been on leave ever since her counterpart/co-sister (what ever husband's second wife is called) was diagnosed with leukemia. So, Anita now does all the household work, looks after 'their' kids, and takes care of the sick woman as part of her wifely duties...and bears the responsibility of finding the leukemia its way right into 'her' veins through her curses! Of course! Why else would it happen to her and none else?! Of course! Who else had any job cursing the poor woman?!

Wow! What rewards! What rewards for bearing it all silently, and compromising at every step...Well, didn't she do it as much for herself? To 'have' a husband's roof over her head and his name appended to hers. To belong to someone, to belong somewhere!

So, she bore it all...the ignominy of being the second best, the ignominy of being the barren daughter-in-law...the one who couldn't bear the family a progeny to take its name to gen next...the one who gracefully compromised to sharing him, so the family would keep going.

"The second wife passed away last night.", "...the poor thing!", "...she left behind two little kids", talked the maids among themselves.

Anita now has 'being the step mother' added to her bag! The price to pay, for asking sometime, somewhere in life, to be 'the only one' perhaps?!

जलाये जा नये दीये

"बुझ गया एक और दीया."
खड़ा क्यूँ, ये सोचता?
जलते हैं सेकड़ों अभी
है रोशन चमन अब भी तेरा.
जलेंगे और भी अभी
क्या हुआ जो वो एक बुझ गया.
जलाये जा नये दीये
न रह यूं खड़ा सोचता!
जलाये जा नये दीये,
कि रोशन रहे चमन तेरा.

क्यूँ खड़ा ये सोचता कि,
"एक और दीया बुझ गया."
क्या पहले कई बुझे नहीं?
क्या रोशन नहीं चमन तेरा?
वो रोशन क्या खास कर सके,
झोंखे से एक, जो बुझ चला!
जलाये जा नये दीये
कि रोशन रहे चमन तेरा.

न रह खड़ा ये सोचता कि,
"दीया एक और बुझ गया"
कह दे अलविदा उसे,
जो साथ तेरे न चल सका!
कह दे अलविदा उसे,
जो राह में ही बुझ चला!
जलाये जा नये दीये,
कि रोशन रहे चमन तेरा.

"bujh gayA ek aur dIyA."
khadA kyU.n ye sochta?
jalte hai.n sekdo.n abhi,
hai roshan chaman ab bhi terA.
jale.nge aur bhI abhI,
kya hua jo vo ek bujh gayA.
jalAye ja naye dIye,
na rah yU.n khadA sochtA!
jalAye ja naye dIye,
ki roshan rahe chaman terA.

kyU.n khadA ye sochta ki,
"ek aur dIyA bujh gaya"
kyA pahle kaI bujhe nahi.n?
kyA roshan nahi.n chaman terA?
vo roshan kyA khAs kar sake,
jho.nkhe se ek, jo bujh chalA!
jalAye ja naye dIye,
ki roshan rahe chaman terA.

na rah khadA ye sochtA ki,
"dIyA ek aur bujh gayA."
kah de alvidA use,
jo sAth tere na chal sakA!
kah de alvidA use,
jo rAh mei.n hI bujh chalA!
jalAye ja naye dIye,
ki roshan rahe chaman terA.

जाने कब, कहाँ

जाने कब, कहाँ छोड़ आये हम उसको
या,
कौन जाने वो कब, कहाँ छोड़ आगे बढ़ गयी हमें,
ज़िन्दगी साथ ही तो चल रही थी हमारे,
जब नज़र मिली थी उससे.

सपने भी वो सारे ले गयी शायद...
बेज़ार, वीरान थीं जब मिलीं थीं हमें
 कल, आईने में दो बेचारी आँखें!

 jaane kab, kahaan chhod aaye hum usko
ya,
kaun jaane vo kab, kahaan chhod aage badh gayii humei.n,
zindagi saath hiii toh chal rahi thi hamare,
jab nazar milii thii usase.

sapne bhi vo saare le gayii shaayad...
bezaar, viiraan thi.n jab mili.n thi.n humei.n
kal, aaiine mei.n do bechaari aankhe.n!

A menace of its kind

"It's been irking me ever since I read in the news about a youth being thrown out of the train by eunuchs, today!" I wrote, on May 27, 11, but couldn't go on, for some inexplicable reason/s!


The sight of a drunk 'eunuch' trying to cajole money off any and every guy that he passed by, by clinging to them, and even pecking some odd guy brought it all back!


A winter afternoon on board the A.P. Express, en route to Delhi. I bring out a couple of poories and some vegetable fry, of my meager meal, and before I can lay my hands on it, a eunuch has turned up, and taken a bite out of my plate! Not just this, he has the audacity to tell me that he had just had a bite, to taste it, asking me to have the rest of it! He didn't like my idea of taking it all since he'd already 'tasted' from it!


At least I got away just with eating two poories less! The men in the train have to bear with their flirting and stuff and part with some of their money, or handle abuses and curses hurled at them, in generous measures!


As kids we saw eunuchs come over (uninvited of course) to people's houses if they had a baby boy or married off a son. They'd sing and dance to the tunes of dholak and manjire and bollywood songs. They'd bless the baby/the newlywed and their family and then, demand exorbitant 'inaam' (presents) in cash or gold!! Refusing them entailed inciting their wrath, and bearing with their threats of unclothing themselves right there, in public, to humiliate the unrelenting 'host'! People ended up parting with quite some money, food grains, even a piece of jewelery at times, other than some hours' time, in the name of saving their integrity!


The nuisance has taken a much colossal and uglier shape by now, what with their presence spreading its wings to trains, and even traffic signals now! With them knowing no bounds, from embarrassing everyone around, to even harassing them and now, pushing them out of running trains, things have really gone out of hand!


Yea, and they go scot-free, of course, given our superstitious, eunuch-fearing  society--police et al.!

Ah! This thin line

I tread this thin line, in this drunk like state.

The thrill's all yours onlooker,
you know--all, right now's at stake!

I for now just tread on...
I have naught to choose!

It's just steps right now,
with minds any but mine.

I'll know if I make it,
I'll know when I emerge

that the line's sanity!

That I tread this thin line

to the other side,

to the side that's mine.

----
[1] naught - nothing

Seasons

Summer and winter, like some friends,
come assert, and thrust and 'stay,'
give in, make room, but know--
they'll go--nothing ever stays!

Spring, like some, comes and goes
short lived though, good while it lasts.

Autumn steals in when it can,
around for a bit, & fades out as quietly.

Rains, like others, charming and fickle,
come and go as they please...
and leave you wanting--for more

With each you wither a little
but you also learn to be!