It was a calm evening. The wind was gently blowing across the quiet valley enchanting all the living beings in its mysterious path. The twilight all around was only adding to the omnipresent softness of the delicate period. Life seemed to be a treat, a gift to cherish and an entity worth dying for. I, as usual ,was sitting under a tree and contemplating about the intricacies of life in all its varied manifestations. Suddenly, I saw her like a goddess in the isle. Like a starlet in the sky, she was twinkling with mildness; mildness that made her confident, mildness that made her self-assured and mildness that gave her a unique strength. Her light hairs like naughty kids covered her face just as clouds cover the moon during rainy seasons. Her steps were telling hitherto untold stories; stories which if verbalized might very well account for a severe blasphemy. Her sight was dreamy. I looked at her just as Archimedes might have looked at the bath tub immediately after his grand discovery of the phenomenon of buoyancy. Life has its own moments of jubilation; moments which define a person’s life and apparitions. It was one of those moments for me; a moment which took me by a storm, a moment which redefined my convictions and last but not the least a moment which altered my perspective towards life. I knew that I liked her. I also knew that I respected her but I never knew that my liking and respect had actually given way to unconditional admiration; a divine feeling which propels us to the path of self-discovery. For me, my feelings for her were sacrosanct. There are compartments in everyone’s life which are not put up to face public glare. This was one such domain. I tried reversing the universal trend of nature; that of hiding the fire under the ashes. Ishq par jor nehi, he ye woh ali shayar, jo chhupaaye naa chhupe. This song from the film Dil Se catches the exact vive to describe my feelings. I tasted the forbidden water from the golden river for the first time; a taste which almost compelled me to re-prioritize my entire life.
Wednesday 27 January 2010
Thursday 7 January 2010
Tale of a Democracy
He comes, he (more often than not) sees and after that, as expected, he conquers. He transcribes English reports seamlessly into Bhojpuri (yes, you read right, Poor Vajpayeeji would remember). He breaks the box and writes his own scripts of functioning (Did I ever mention representative decorum?). He is blessed with a unique capacity to turn mundane and boring parliamentary sessions into audiovisual wonders having the potential to compel K-serials to come up with freshly baked ideas in order to retain high TRPs. He is a born rebel (Reader’s discretion is solicited). Swapping parties like experimenting with attires is his inborn forte. He is always honest to his electorate (really!) even if that means rallying against his party and endorsing rebel party candidates. Meet Mr. Beni Prasad Verma, a Congress Lok Sabha MP from Uttar Pradesh, who creates controversies at the same rate as that of a roadside Dhabawallah in Delhi doling out Paranthas. Tall, dynamic (always in motion, literally!), handsome (categorically yes!) and visionary (brilliant eyesight to read between the lines!); this gem of a politician has actually ornamented many a Lok Sabha sessions with his oratory excellence. It is indeed a treat to come up across a politician of such magnanimous hue and colour. When we stop and take a look around the hugely entertaining Indian political minefield, we find that there is no dearth of such politicians wallowing their way through the rough political terrains with utter disdain. Mr. Verma is just one of those privileged people (Oh! yea). From this, we can safely infer that our country is in able hands and we can move ahead in our life contented (that we always are!) that there are people who would hold our ever-sinking (never really sinks) ships. True tale of a genuinely realistic actual democracy (emphasizing!). Jai Hind!
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