Falling through dimension Z

What a gift?What a gift?

2010-02-25T22:35:00.000-08:00

What a yearning? What a strife?What a learning?What a life?

What a school?What a drool?What a gift?What a gift?

What a star?What a kiss?What afar?What a miss?

What a train?What a flash?What a pain?What a clash?

What a sniggle?What a wiggle? What a gift?What a gift?

What a gun ?What a sea?What a fun? What a glee?

What a sign?What a ride? What design?What a glide?

What a gift?What a gift?

2010-02-23T23:14:00.000-08:00

I rode alone stray for more than a score year

Galloping, cantering riders I met there, and here

All steeds white I saw, but the riders black I learnt

Some rode along, some rode upon

Some rode away my heart burnt

Riders came and riders went, none were here to stay

Some I mourned, some I wept,some I was glad went away

Alone together trotted my steed and me

Happy for what was meant to be

We sailed the seas and roamed the roads in boundless swift spree

Basked in bliss of solitude as freelancers carefree

We tasted songs and feasted on colours

Painted with words and swayed with flowers

Forever I rode my bank along the gurgling river

A faint, familiar feeling lured my gaze

Through a mirror? no a veil of misty haze

Across that river and its never ending reality

I saw an image of myself? at infinity

It wasnt me, It wasnt a he

It was me, It was a she

The steed as fair as mine

And the rider even fairer galloped in unison

The unforgiving river between, both giving and taking

Reflecting twilights crimson

Knights in white on either sideof the river of reality

Yet nestled together in the same pod like partners pea

Neverland...

2009-10-24T12:30:00.000-07:00

And neither could he, a son of Neptune, a golden shellback.In Neverland, he waited..fought against time itself, in wait for the orange glow.Neverland..the world that he had created for her,decorated with her every wish and adorned with her every fantasy.The only thing that remained was for the spin.For her orange sceptre to burst a bright amber onto his world.And become the orange sun that shall never set.The day came when she spun and it was greater than a thousand splendid suns burst in the sky..She was born again in Neverland.He couldn't see her face,form,cavities, he didn't want to see any of that.He just felt her.Her purity had no form.She was the very ether that filled his realm like light. All that mattered to him was that his world was complete.She was there.She had brought the crowning sun and as the light whispered to the ocean in crimson tides, he saw her reflection.The only thing more pristine than herself.He reached out to the sea and touched her shadow.It dissolved into blurry ripples.He withdrew and the reflection beamed again.And he smiled, and watched the image smile back at him for the rest of eternity.

Lansdowne Ride-Never give up!

2009-09-29T11:18:00.000-07:00

Of all the riding destinations,that continued to evade me,perhaps the most elusive one was Lansdowne.Despite its sweet sounding name(I have a thing for Brit sounding names,Mc leodganj being the other one)and its proximity,it still remained unchecked in my list.
Protocol checks done,tanked up,packed and ready.... all the previous night,the only thing that remained was withdrawing cash from ATM.That can be done enroute.That shouldn't be difficult right?Read on.
So that fine sunday morning, I set out at 0400 hrs on my minotaur with tankbag strapped and my friend following on his TBTS.We made quick progress to Meerut and stopped for chai at aound 6am.My friend complained that he didn't want to lug around the backpack and asked me if I was carrying bungee cords.I was proud of my resourcefulness and offered it to him readily.(Unforunately.)
We sped away onto the Mawana road through cantt.This must be the biker's paradise.Neat tarmac.Straight roads sans traffic garnished with splendid scenery either side.As I was losing myself, I picked up my friend blinking his headlight on my rear view.I stopped and noticed him all panicky"My bag's fallen down somewhere...." and zoooom he turned and went back.I obviously didnt have time to pour sense into him that the chances of his bag lying at the same place it fell was like a million to one.But still to ease his spirit I followed and we lost a fat two hours in treading.Mawana to meerut and back.I swiftly pulled off the hanging bungee cords from his backseat lest it should remind him of something.My disappointed friend told me that he was going back to Delhi.Like Lord Krishna I stood at the junction and told him:"You go right and two hours you'll be home.sad about your bag and more sad about missing the ride.You follow me to the left and three hours you'll be in Lansdowne probably forgetting your tiny loss and pleased for completing what you set out upon.": Saying thus I sped off knowing him well.
Soon I heard another thump join mine and we reached Lansdowne for early lunch.THe first sight of the hills was refreshing and the road from Mawana-Bijnor Najibabad-Kotdwara-Lansdowne was perfect.The only observation was we have stopped in 6 atms till now and all of them rejected my ICICI card.A helpful soul in Kotdwarar told me that I should proceed to Lansdowne and use the multiple ATM facilities it has to offer.I trusted him and went up to find only two SBI atms there and both temporarily unable to service my request.I had a SBI card but it had negative balance and I dint want to risk giving my location to the SBI stalkers.:grin:
THe 200/ in my wallet was used up for lunch.With an empty wallet and a broke friend by my side I set out to hunt for a hotel.Hotel Mayur was the only plce we got.It had a decent deluxe room for 1000/-.I asked him for his bank account so that I could get money transferred to him from Delhi.Sad.IT was a sunday.No problem.I was there till next morning I could get it transferred first thing in the morning.Sad er. Next day was Eid.Holiday:shock:My friend suggested that we ride back to delhi with the only resource we had then.fuel.I was not even considering that option.
Then as crazy as it sounds, I actually took the mobile number of the hotel owner called a friend in Delhi and had him recharge his phone for 1000rs.Again delhi bsnl recharge was not possible and I had to call up Chennai and tell a friend to top up for 1300/-All this with just one small bar of network on my airtel mobile.THe owner accepted!and I took the extra 300 as cash from him and used it for rest of journey.
The return trip next day and things we saw there are relatively less eventful and already well recorded in these forums.
The morning ride downhill was like ballet where biker and bike become one swaying in sync to the well orchestrated tune of the serpentine roads.And thus the next day we reached Delhi thankful to technology and e recharge!!
LESSONS:1) Always carry some cash in hand and in different places.Dont put all cash together.2) SBI is undoubtedly the widest atm network in the country.Put up with their indifference to customers when you visit their branch and reap the fruits of their atm service in the remotest of hills.3)BSNL can fail in Connaught place but in densest of jungles it will not fail you. 4)Tie bungee cords properly ensuring to pass it through atleast one strap in your bag5)Never give up!
p.s:Ill put up some pics asap
Cheers.Ride safe!

French Kiss -Vizag to Yaanam RIDE GUIDE

2009-08-23T04:42:00.000-07:00

Tourisme à moto libère l'âme..Relax.It’s just the effect of the ‘French kiss’ on me. It simply means “Motorcycle touring liberates the soul”. Come weekends, true to the adage that ‘the best alarm is sunshine on chrome’, the riding spirit in the Vizeroys, Vizag Royals Bullet Club is awakened and we become greedy with wanderlust. When we were looking around to decide on a suitable destination, far enough to satisfy our bull ego, yet close enough to be back in time for Monday blues, we stumbled upon Yanam.

Yanam won the club’s vote, unopposed, because of the enticing fact that it belongs to the erstwhile French territory of Pondicherry(Puducherry, to be parliamentarily correct), a different state, different culture altogether against Andhra Pradesh, but still geographically was very proximate to Vizag.Yanam being situated in the Godavari delta, promised a treat to the eye, in terms of lush greenery and natural beauty. So we saddled up our bulls and set out on our ride.

We put our engines, all 350 cc of it to full use and were quick to take the NH5 from our start point the Royal Enfield Showroom, Daaba Gardens. We stopped at Annapurna Agencies, IOC outlet on the Highway to tank up and continued along NH5, crossing Old Gajuwaka Junction. It is here, that the locals appear highly disapproving of a National Highway running through their land and hence try to scare you away by zipping across the road, as if blindfolded. The kids seem to enjoy playing Dodge-the-Wheels, and most are fortunately good at it. So you might want to take it easy on the throttle in this stretch. From here, ease it out till you reach Vizag Steel City Arch on the highway itself, 24 km since you started your ride. It might appear protocol to continue along the highway towards Vijayawada and reach Kakinada en route. But that might cost you kilometres extra and you will also miss out on some breathtaking landscape. Take our advice, and swerve left from NH5, under the steel city arch. Yes, we know how you feel relieved to see an empty straight road away from the maddening highway. Let your steed canter, right towards the steel city main gate and take the last right before entering the gate. Welcome, to the Great Escape. Now you are riding parallel to NH5, still saving miles and dumbstruck by the peaceful scenery moving past you. Notice, the brown stone architecture of the Ukkunagaram Jagannath temple to your right. Enjoy the ride and don’t miss the Power grid to your left. The road now joins Achuthapuram road. Break left and ride on, beyond Achutapuram junction.(SBI ATM here might save you if you are running low on cash.) The HP petrol bunk you crossed about 5km ago on your left, is the only one on the entire stretch until you reach the highway again. So if you had left home in a hurry, this your last chance.

Stop at the Kothuru bridge, and take a minute to devour all you can, the majestic hills behind you and the sprawling fields all around. A must stop photo point for the shutterbugs among you.You are 62.5 km into the ride and your steed can use a little cooling down and check up too. From here, follow straight ahead along Line Kothuru road and when your trip meter is 73 km old, you will merge into NH5 again. Sprint past Annavaram temple, thanking God for making NH5 one of the smoothest in the country.133km into your ride, you must be hungry, tired at least. Stretch your limbs and tank up your tummy at any of the Dhabas that dot the road past Annavaram.Sai Satya Dum biriyani dhaba was our choice and did not disappoint us. The cots laid out in the open are so inviting, you might be tempted to take a quick nap. If you were losing time, like we were, resist the temptation and ride on.15 km into it, at Kathipudi junction again get ready to get off the highway and save some more time and miles. Swerve left into the single road. Enjoy the feeling of riding right through people’s houses, the best part is, they do not seem to mind it. Most of them are lost in trance, swinging to the thump, gaping at the convoy of roaring bulls going through their village. Usual sights are kids waving, men exchanging information and their perspective about the bullet, and woman giggling shyly at us, whispering secrets into each other’s ears. You can see the regard and respect in their eyes for the’ Raja Gaadi’. It feels good, it always does.

The road has some serpentine curves and you might want to take it slow, especially after dark. Not for long, until the road meets a main road. Turn right and you reach Pithapuram after your about 155km run. Thump on straight to hit a fork when your odo hits 162 and stick to the right. Leave the HP bunk to your left and reach the next junction .A right from here will take you to Samalkot, left leads to Uppada. Take neither, continue riding straight across the railway crossing into Kakinada. Your trip meter has spun 185km.Stop and pick up some Kakinada Kaja from the famous Kotiah store.It’s almost a ritual if you are passing through Kakinada.Start again along the Amalapuram pommaru route out of Kakinada and ‘breathe’ the fresh greenery on either side.The road forks and the board points left side to Yanam,8km ahead from there. But, the locals direct you to go right.Relax, its not a trap, you will discover later that Yanam has multiple entrances. And either way you’ll enter the town. We took the right road and reached the Indira Gandhi Entrance into Yanam.Rode into it for a kilometre and reached the Govt. Guest House .Home, away from home. 215.8 km away.
So the next time you have just a weekend to spare and wish to teleport to another world, a new dimension in itself, ride to Yanam.Get ready to be French kissed. Ride safe and “Garder circonscription !”(Figure that one out by yourself when you go to Yanam)

Motorcycle Nirvana

2009-03-05T04:04:00.000-08:00

I am alone.Nothing but a patch of light ahead to follow.Nothing around,except crickets clinking and clattering.I chase the light, keep up with it.My only companion.The beat of my engine,my second heartbeat. I admit, I have revved it up many times in the past few hours.Just to beat solitude.To fake an entity,riding along with me,roaring,talking,just being there.

Look up and I find purple.Stealing the night away from black.It's there all around me.I cut through the ink, so fast, as if afraid, it were to devour me in its hue.

First Light kisses chrome. The sky wakes up,to another day.Stretching its arms lazily,slowly,out into sunshine.Reclaiming its rightful territory, from darkness.The Master's first stroke, a splash of blue on his canvas. I 'hear' the world wake up.In the lady with the water pot.In the cattle rhythmically chewing gut.In the smiles of kids, joyously waving at anything that passes by.In those eager faces, with hay strewn on the ground, looking for vehicles, praying for heavier ones. In those young men, arrogantly striding with a twig carelessly clenched between their teeth.In the radio, blaring a vaguely familiar tune, from a faraway teashop.

Another stroke on the Master's canvas.This time a bright splash of yellow.The cool breeze that rode all night with me, reluctantly brushing away, fading. The second heartbeat drowns, amidst the din of familiar sounds. More companions join me on my ride.More real (or are they?). Shadows shorten under me. The sun creeps up overhead.The yellow brightens. Faces, I see a lot of them.Everywhere, all around me. Riding with me.Each a different colour in itself.Colour, of a different kind,The kind you cannot see, just feel.Some colours intrigue me.There are others that enchant me, still others I detest, a few I cant stand. The few that I really love. Faces, join the ride and disappear along the trail. They all join and leave.But leave,they do, they must. I remember some faces, more clearly than others.They leave, as randomly as the serpentine trail ahead, no reason, no order in its sweeps and curves.

The trail, its curves,yes,it draws my attention to it.Puts me in a trance, hypnotic.As I lose myself to it, it reveals the rhythm in its randomness.
I look up to find myself, for a moment,still.The world and all its splendid landscape moving in a screen past me.I watch, merely a mute spectator, as the scene changes past me so fast.I see the trail change into a narrow path.Even quicker it morphs into a jungle, primitive and untouched. Im as afraid of it as much as I love it. I shut my eyes, open throttle and deafen myself to all the cacaphony around. Until, I hear only my heartbeat again.Both of them.

I open my eyes.The Master's been busy.Im swept into a crimson tide.The road ahead is straight.And long, really long.Seemingly flowing into the cleft between two mountains.And in this melange, I witness the Master's masterpiece. The sun is a majestic, soothing amber.Splendid, as I ride into it.I am alone.I am... the last cowboy.

VizeRoys Raid Araku Valley

2009-02-16T23:42:00.000-08:00

Rendezvous at Enfield Showroom,Vizag at 0630hrs 01 Feb 09 was the plan.It remained just the "PLAN".Ramesh was the first to arrive at the scene,right on time,only to find it bare.Frantic, worried,he calls me up to check,afraid that the others have left already.It was his first ride with us,he would soon learn about the punctuality of the Vizag Royals :).

Kuldeep,thiagu n myself were already at Rasoi restaurant on NH5 NAD junction where the rest of the pack had to meet us at 0700hrs.We decided to have a quick snack at the restaurant as we waited. 0800hrs,just our three bullets parked together had attracted a crowd .The same questions: "whats your Mileage,?How much is it costing now?Is this the new model?"I wonder even if one of these people are ever plannin to get a bull.Anyway, I do appreciate their regard and respect for the bull.As they were caught in the trance of the three bulls shining side by side,they were woken up to the roar of the whole pack.

Sandeep,with his full riding leathers on TB,Vijay in his freeway Bike gang look,complete with his multiple gold chains and bandanna and french beard TBTS,Suman on his Mach350(yes!! he was carrying his trusted SLR camera behind him),Gandhi (with our club's livewire Jagan behind him)on his Std 350,(the bike 7 yrs older than the biker.)...Karthik was on his Electra5s, nicely modified into a machismo and a much relieved Ramesh on his red electra.Bulleticians,Ranga and Venky our friendly RE service centre mechs, were as always, riding with us. I fired my Minotaur TBTS in sync with Thiagu's twinbrother TBTS, and we were off.Kuldeep's std 350 thump seized the attention of anyone who had been spared the previous crowd.

Once we were off NH5,it was a straight smooth road.Narrow,made narrower by apsrtc buses on the opposite side.The drivers must've been either drunk, schumacher devotees,pilot training dropouts or simply blind to drive like that.We meandered through the din and regrouped on the suburbs road. The scene assumed a brown yellow tint,spectacular!With railway line to the left,and sprawling fields to the right, we stopped for breakfast. Vijay and most others were not satisfied with the food and we decided to move to another already tested outlet ahead. So we rode to the latter and had breakfast.Food, fags done ride continued to a scenic lone tree that stood inviting by the road side.We stopped and Shreekant on his TB,who had started an hour after us from the city had caught up with us there. Suman put his camera to work and some of the best pics were shot..No more stops until Araku.Safety first,Pack speed limit set at 60-70 kmph.We made good time and reached the foot hills.As we crossed the TYDA tree houses,we could hear the thump of all the pack reverberate through the valley.All cars,buses,bikes passin by wavin joyously at us.It felt good.It always does.

Swerving roads up the hills,n some spectacular movement shots by sandeeps pillion bro.And before we could realise we were there at the vizeroys rock.A small hill clearing rock where we always divert.Ramesh's,single beam crash guard had ditched him and rolled of when his bike fell to one side.Ranga waved his wand and it was clamped on in no time.My battery was running down and ES not working.I rode then on, with headlamp switched off .Next stop Haritha resort view point wher besides clicking some snaps, we met some doctors who had just been back from Leh on their car.Took some pointers from them and we were off again.It was noon already and Suman lured us into a kutcha track promising to feast, those willing, with bamboo chicken.But we learnt about the catch.The order will be ready only after three hours.... atleast.

Grumpy and hungry we rode back to Vasanth restaurant.Filled the parking lot and our stomachs and rode to the "BRIDGE." Off roaded under it and spent an hour chatting and drowsing off under the huge shady trees.I realised my tbts can double up as a very comfortable bed with the raised camber shape tank :).We had tea and rolled down the valley.Riding down hill is always more interesting than riding up.Almost near the foothill,screeeeeeeech.The vizeroys jinx of every trip, shows up in this trip.Another rear wheel problem,Sandeep is the victim.

This time.Ranga detects burnt rubber and jammed rim and removes the wheel.With ranga and venky gone to get the wheel look round again,we sat and chatted.Night fell and they returned after an hour. From then on it was fire at will,we did very good speed and regrouped at a teastall close to the city.Kuldeep thanked god and his brakes for sparing the life of the villager who incarnaed in his path suddenly... sheer suicidal tendancy.We dispersed in our own tracks from NAD junction and another exciting ride comes to an end.Looking forward to the next ride and to share it with all.Cheers.Happy Thumping.!!

I Believe...

2009-01-27T10:10:00.000-08:00

I believe my country was always the greatest civilisation.
Since the time of the Indus, when my people grew food,
While men, elsewhere, still roamed as beasts and hunted for hide and hood.
When we had navies, harbours and dry docks.
While men, elsewhere, swam, to survive, faster than crocs .
The Brits got to us and we only got greater after they left.
Learnt their language, spoke it with no cranny nor cleft.
Became the second largest English speakers, more than all their atoll.
Learnt their methods and became the largest Democracy, Republic et al.

I believe there’s pride.
In helping Uncle Sam, with our best brains, to grow up to his distinction.
(Until he recently hit a slump, avalanched and took a recess-ion)
To be labelled as a ‘developing’ country, poverty stricken, to soon swoon.
Yet vie with ‘developed ’ones, splitting atoms and sending metal to moon.
To flower, flourish and flaunt IT, the global village, further shrink.
To have become what we are. To have become India Inc.

I believe there’s strength.
In keeping paradise, still on earth.
To keep peace , home and away, despite resources glut or dearth.
To have hands strong, yet lent to friends in distress.
In fighting foes and fiery flaming Oberoi and Taj fortress.

I believe there’s hope.
In draining brains seeping back.
And Obamas painting the White House black.
I believe that I’ll wake up to a better tomorrow.
In a greater India, sans grief sans sorrow.

Lonavla-as close as u can get to heaven

2008-03-08T06:14:00.000-08:00

If you are 625 m above sea level and wondering if your already in paradise, you maybe right.64km from pune or 110 from Mumbai ,either way straight up, you reach the Jewel of the Sahyadri.
From Mumbai, Dadar bus station you can reach lonavla in two hours cruising along in one of the many luxurious Volvo buses operated by the State. Dont led the adjective scare you,the trip wont burn a hole through your pocket. The expressway wins my vote for the best road in the country. The roadtrip itself is quite an experience, but you could try the local train from pune too. There’s a thing about trains chugging along hills. The engine, shunted to the rear pushes all the way up, giving enough time (thank the ‘evergreen’ signals) to look around, sample and only guess what lonavala has to offer.
Once your there at the station, you’ll receive a warm welcome from the multilingual (trust me, you’ll need this advantage) porters ready to relieve you of any luggage, be it a handbag or a steel trunk, and escort you outside to the waiting autorickshaws. But take a moment, from the station you can see a prelude of all the grandeur in store for you. The view is an index of sorts. The mighty hills, you would notice, are incongruously shy and cover their faces with clouds most of the time. You can almost hear the waterfalls calling out to you. If nature, ever can come alive, you know where to find it. When you are lost in nature’s charm it rocks you to reality with a weighty downpour. That’s why it isn’t such a good idea to be there between June and September, unless you are one of those rain addicts, in which case this is mecca for you. For the rest of us, normal, boring ,‘dry’ people, June to September can be quite promising.The weather is mild and pleasant, atleast thats what the weathermen say. But I wouldn’t be out in lonavala without my raingear anytime of the year.Its notorious for its soaking surprises.
Do you whiff an omnipresent aroma? It has to be the world renowned lonavla chikky.Jaggery, peanuts, sesame seeds, cashewnuts you name it, youll find a chikky for it.You can even ask for your custom made assorted version. For the unfortunately less informed, this is the harder cousin of the fudge, numerous varieties of which are also available.
If you are an ardent trekker, you would’ve already been here. If you ve not yet, pack up and get there and start at Bhushi dam. About 4km from the station, you ll never be alone in this place.Its filled with enthusiasts drenching themselves, if the rain doesn’t get them first. The lucky few might spot springs, water gurgling out of rocks.Now, thats something you don’t get to see elsewhere. Trek uphill further and across the Sahara Amby valley and you are on your way to Tropho.The steep climb is justified once you get to the top. The Tiger’s Leap, as the name suggests, deceives the eye to spot a tiger leaping into the valley. A big hole here provides safe post to view the valley. The mischievous, are tempted to drop a stone and hear it ricochet. Your next stop ought to be Duke’s Nose(yes, we are referring to Lord Wellington’s sharp nose after which this ‘feature’ has been named). There’s a smaller Dutchess nose nearby. If you are in the notion that you’re really good at rock climbing, you can find out for yourself here. Dont look down! The spectacular view of the Express way can be distracting. From here stop not until you’ve reached Rajmachi park, a beautiful garden at the point where the Ghat drops to Mumbai. Look to the east and feast your eyes with the majestic Shivaji’s two Rajmachi towers. If you are tempted to attempt a hike to reach the fort, think twice. I wouldn’t start without having chopper backup or an Ironman decathlon medal.
If art and sculpture is your cup of tea, don’t miss Karla and Bhaja caves. Its a time machine set to 2nd Century BC Buddhist era. On the way the spiritually inclined could visit the Kaivalyadhyam Yoga centre, an eighty year old hub for yogic healing.
While at Lonavala, you needn’t worry about accommodation or food. The only thing you should remember is to shut the windows, or else you’ll have clouds (yes, clouds not fog) hovering over your bed. A friendly travel tip:If you’re the extra hygienic type who has the time and the talent to wash clothes during a vacation(Yes, there are people who populate this category),Lonavala will be a good place to mend your ways. I’ll bet money, they won’t dry till next summer.

Volcanus erupts

2008-01-28T00:30:00.000-08:00

THIS POST HAS BEN REMOVED BY THE AUTHOR DUE TO THE CONTROVERSY IT STIRRED UP.

ROOOOOOOOOsting...

2008-01-03T07:33:00.000-08:00

Chirping , tweeting, cacophony?
Flutters, coos and caaaws.
Nature unfolds yet another mystery
One more trick up her loooong sleeve.
Each day she innovates and rolls up her sleeve ..just a little bit.

But blessed are the few
Who can behold the ecstasy
The few who have the time
To ‘stand and stare’.
The sea and her Queen (Both the sea’s and mine)
Are never far from my heart.
But reality is just an exaggeration.
Duty forces me to stay away from the former at times.

At times like this, if dusk steals the sky
And daylight shies away
At a pace slower than mona lisa’s smile
The self feels compulsively obsessed to get absorbed in the trance
I find the biggest tree and ..squat
Shifting perspective away from the concrete jungle around me
To its ‘avial’ counterpart overhead.
Teleported to a different realm.Forget thy self.
Roosting…!! Nature’s boisterous serenity.

The din- its music of its own.
Sans lyrics, sans rhyme, sans rhythm
It lacks rhythm…unlike the train
Which has cradled me to sleep many a time.
The ‘train’ played in the background
For my life’s most interesting episodes.
No pun intended, I just lived along a railway station.

I wonder what they are telling each other.
What families lay intertwined
Among these so called ‘less evolved’ beings.
They have so much to chirp about.
Incessant chatter, multiple and random.
(Hmmm..this reminds me of someone I love)
Yet the communiqué crystal.
Our share broker’s could pick up a few pointers?
From bulbuls for once instead of bulls.

I wonder, again, what they re discussing.?
How I wish this one more language I knew.
I yearn to decipher their noise

The train..again

2007-12-11T04:47:00.000-08:00

A most beautiful yawn, interrupting blissful slumber
A subtle silent twitch, a silent moan
And back he went to his coveted reserve
Five kilos of pure peace treats my eye
Tucked cosily in a warm woollen drape
And an even warmer mother’s bosom
(Wait I already hear an Awwww...)

Cuddly, carefree and...crying?
Oh, the baby is awake
Did my supposedly powerful stare
Excite him from ground state?
Nay! Its jus time for him to cry
It’s a baby thing..they sleep n they cry.
And then sleep again..

They don’t bother if their bib matches their shirt
Or don’t stare at me wondering if I get paid more than they do
And no they don’t care if India wins the test match
And no he’s not guessing the model of my mobile phone.
Babies..I understand "bliss" now

How I wish I were a baby..
Hmm I’ll never be that again
But neither will he.
The one thing everyone on earth does together.
Get old.

The baby forced me to write today.
The train .....again

Cradles most of my ideas
Baby distracted me
I write on ..giving in to my pen
And its meandering ways

I’ll take a break and walk along the train.
It’s my favourite pastime
Second only to stargazing and may be meeting people
Not to forget reading
Okay..I walk when I’ve nothing else to do.
I reach the door and let the wind blow through my hair
While I still have some.

The stars taunt me from their eternal perch.
I turn away from the threshold before it breaks mine.
I move onto the next bogie through the vestibule,
Hmm I always had a fascination for them..
They have this ...oh my god here we go..
I’m jerked to reality from verses about vestibules
By a bang on my head against the responsibly rolled shutters
At times like this, and those when I get a side berth allotted
I wish I could lose a foot or two from the six I have.

I let the train sound take me through the bogies,,
I met many people, guessed things about them
About their work and their minds..pure or perturbed
I’m mostly right. I’m not being judgemental.
I just read them .like books from their covers.
Give me a meeting with anyone,
I’ll tell u most things about them
Give me two, and they’ll tell you about me.

I return to the berth, always upper.
And get lost in the babies antics.
Do they get these eyes made?
Where does the sparkle go when they grow up?
It’s a sparkle born out of ignorance and equipoise.
No wonder it dims later in life.,but all babies have it., they do.
And before I know it, I tucked the little devil to sleep.
(The noun intended as revenge for making me change my shirt)

So I stare at the totally unergonomic fan alignment,
And wonder how the design can be optimised.
Oh I’m a geek at times.
Then I notice how my feet are just shy of overhang
And curl myself to sleep.
I wake up and it’s time to go home.

An ode to my queen

2007-12-11T04:40:00.000-08:00

Yet another fun day at work
I’m returning home to Base
Most of us are catching up our forty winks
I find myself on the forecastle deck,
Doing what I do best and most.
Gawking at the brimming, unabridged oblivion.

Why is this turbulence within me ?
For once, I’m feeling lonely even by the sea.
The moment is lacking, I’m missing someone.
I rummage around for distractions.
Your voice rings in my head.
“You must write. It would be a sin if you didn’t.”

So I start to put the pen to the paper,
And the sea roars in refutation.
It ails her when someone is being loved more than her,
(Did I say ‘more’? Na..the sea did it and she knows the truth
She juddered the ship once as caveat.

Her question was crystal: If I continue to ink the paper,
It will mean more than just writing
She‘ll no more be second to none.
She quavers my hand in vain, hoping to change
What I’m penning, in her favour.
Yet I write this ode to my queen.

As I write, I hear sea gulls at a distance
I’d been taught, that meant land was near,
But today I learn, maybe that’s how the sea cries.
Now again, all this may appear as aggrandizement.
When it comes to the sea..
I’ve always been a romantic fool.

You made me smile more often.
Many a time you were the reason for it.
You made me write.
Believed in me more than I did myself
You made me ME again.

With you, I didn’t have to worry
About being strong or hard shelled.
Nor be conscious about my actions, nor pretend.
Like waves against rock, I could crash.
You gave me space, you gave me wings.
Freedom, despite my uniform.

I look up for a moment from the papyrus.
Only to lose myself to the stars.
I stop to speculate, twice.
Once, All this time I didn’t even notice the stars
And second, even when I do I’m reminded of you

Irony, I observe, the sky and the sea.
From here, they seem of the same ether.
They harmoniously blend into each other
Uniting at infinity.
They are eternally together
The horizon itself a mirage,
Their melange, abstract

A paradox inviting.
So near yet so far,
Closer you look, farther they seem.
There! A shooting star blazes past.
A flash of eternity, in the blink of an eye.

It’s September, I remember.
Orion should be right overhead.
The hunter is our messenger.
Whenever I see him, I leave a message for you.
Ever sure that you’ll be seeing him too.

my first love

2007-12-11T04:28:00.000-08:00

I‘ll tell u about a friend

I shared my childhood, grew up with her

My dad had known her, so had his dad.

She must be pretty old, I guess

But never looked a day older than I was

I used to visit her everyday

‘Coz in her lap, I found unfailing solace

I’ve laughed, cried, and even been mad at her

Despite my mood swings, she always had an ear for me.

Sans words, she read my thoughts.

Her outward tranquility is deceptive,

She can get annoyingly loquacious at times.

Mind the Lady’s attitude, her notorious temper.

She forewarns you of her impending ire

But if you don’t have the ear to heed,- ACHTUNG!!

Her touch is magical, her embrace an elixir.

Her beauty is intoxicating, yet sanctimonious.

Her Neptune’s courtyard has enchanted me more than any fashion ramp

Or the cats that walk on them.

She is unfathomable poetry, only without words.

Then, destiny separated us

Providence made me rediscover her here.

She’s dubbed Cherai here though.

Back where I am from, we knew her as Marina

I bumped into her in Mumbai and called her Juhu

I chose the right service

The Navy will always keep me close to her.

Wordsworth was rightThere is indeed bliss in solitude.

But by the SEA, you are never alone.-