this little life know no fear......

i was running a temp of 99.6 and went all over the place trying to make ppl realise it...tellin the world abt my huge ailment..it was not long b4 i was stuffed with a dose of antibiotic and crocin...and in blankets and pampering myself...trudged along 2 my morning postings to the fever hospital cribbing about how the HOD had no mercy...
it was chicken pox today ..walked in as usual...kids lined up to talk 2 us..crying and ill...but one kid struck us frm d time we stepped in...with a guant little face...arms so thin and bony..fingers frail and haunting and ..hair so dry and fungated...abdomen sucked in...my first reacton was 2 talk 2 his mom...seemed like she hadn't fed him for days...it was malnutrition like so many..negligence i thought.....wht struck me abt the boy was his eyes...sparkling open..his voice so clear ...as he kept calling to someone...he watched us fearlessly with those eyes of his..undeterred,active inspite of it all....a lady came up 2 us and told us they were frm an orphanage ...again it was anger tht struck me...at how orphanages take care...just b4 i said another word she reminded us tht the boy was HIV+ve..2years of age...was brought to them 6 months back and lives in the company of 12 others all similarly diagnosed ..struggling to live a life they havent yet faced...suffering for a fault.. none their own...words escaped.. ..we checked his pulse .. a helpless effort...he was saying he dint like the bread he held...asked if we wanted it...ignorant he was as to wht lay ahead of him ...knows not why he had to be the unfortunate..why he wasnt given a chance to choose..why he sleeps on a different bed...or why the world has deserted him..he wasnt tellin anyone about this huge ailment ...he isnt even aware..no antibiotic or crocin or blankets to cure...yet this little life knows no fear...

verbal doodle...

when u knw life can't stand still...
to let u breathe and live out of ur own will..
when it seems no more ,under ur control...
& all u do, is walk around without a clue...
aim's dreary and conscience weak with guilt...
about the time so ungainly spilt...
as helpless and dull as grey can be...
u go on ,coz a light of hope u still can see...

about tumours and memories...

i can't go on like this...i just can't go on with this chapter on oropharyngeal tumours..i can't watch anymore of these tumours glaring back at me almost taunting...i know they'll have their say in my exams..but i don't care ..atleast not now...not when the clouds outside are just looking for the right time to cry their hearts out..not when the breeze has just the right amount of crisp to it..
i don't know what it is about rain but it brings back memories..i hate to sound cliched here ...am i drifting off to memories bcoz the tumours bore me sick or bcoz the prospects of whiling away time in memories is highly inviting..[tough question]...
don't get me wrong here ..don't start off eschewing those times spent playing in the rain when u were little kids...the pani puri with friends..naaayy reality check..i'm steering away from all that...
i hate the rain...atleast these last three days..if u've been following cricket matches u won't feel any different...i don't know much about cricket so i'll continue to believe thta India would have won the match if it weren't for the rain ..i know ,i'm awfully hyderabadi...
so coming back to Hyd,water logged on every road,traffic stuck for hours on end..as cars splash that enigmatic mix of rain and drain on to us...memories...who said anything about being pleasant..
getting out of bed in the mornings becomes such an ordeal...no good books to snuggle up in bed and read..no movies to watch and the radio mirchi is just not hot enough,..i'm too tired of taking those snaps of water drops on leaves..and i can't take another one of those omniscient smiles on my mom's face[almost sadistic]that i have no choice but to be stuck at home..
i know i can always fix myself that soup recipe and let the rain flavour it...get my rehman collection out and savour every note..rent my favourite movie..chat with my friend..or may be..even write a new post on my blog...hey..how come i'm still staring at these tumours....!!

medically yours..

Everytime he looks into my eye..
I can feel my pulse raising high...
He gives me joy sans measure...
His voice is enough to hike my bloodpressure..
And when he smiles at what i say..
It tickles many a chordae tendinae..
It hurts deep within the bundle of His...
That he remains unaware of such bliss...
What irony it is ,i complain...
He is the analgesic,he is the pain..

BLOG BAUBLES....

If a blog by itself is a bauble,then blog baubles are baubles about blogs..mmmi think i have a tongue twister right there..i thought i should write something offhand..no drafts ..just thoughts .. anything that strikes my mind is in writing..that's how it's goin to be..
why do we get blogs.?do blogs make our life interestig or do we make our lives interesting just to have something to write about each day.. ..or may be our lives are as boring as they are and we just try to make a big deal ,try to search for something worthwhile [or worthless ]to get onto our blog...may be that's it..it's one thing just to live a boring life and another to share it with the rest of the world[not to mention being proud of it]..ok may be some people do have gr8 lives but then those who really are that lucky will be busy having fun right ...they wont while away time writing a blog...
i know one reason why people get attracted to having one..its just nice to know that whatever nonsense u write is accessible to almost anyone and everyone on this planet...and that there is just a teeny weeny possiblity that someone might read it and and an even teenier possiblity that someone might comment on it...and the teeeeeniest weeniest possiblity that someone might actually like it...it's hard to believe we are that desperate for appreciation.. ..
another reason could be that we all love to see what we have written ,on the screen,in the colourful fancy templates,in ur fave font,decking them up...filling our views...self loving narcissists that we are...cummon who doesnt love to tell the world what they think...who cares a damn if anyone's listening...we just louwe to talk...hey ..theres always that teeniest possibility that someone might read[ i told u earlier about]..there's nothing wrong in being highly optimistic....

snapshot of a bus....

It was more than just curiosity that made us take the bus that day.We were tired of our now prosaic bike rides and we knew that if he have to go that far , the auto guy would charge exorbitant prices..Here I find it necessary to let u know,that we don't remember the last time we've been on the bus.That's how often we travel on it.
So the next day we came prepared with the no. of the bus we had to take and were ready to spend a hour staring aimlessly out of the window in peace.
boy!! were we in for a surprise....
when we saw the fast approaching 45m heading towards srnagar,it was relief first at getting the right bus and as the bus drew near so also did the realisation that buses come in 3 capacities..1.the empty..2.the full and 3.full with 7-10 people popping out.as luck had it,the bus concerned belonged to the latter category. ..
To begin with,we were confronted with the imminent task of fighting with 10 others to get into it.So when the lady holding that closed bucket[i later came to know contained dried fish] asked me to help her get in,I gladly obliged realising only later that etiquette wasn't a requisite here...I staggered my way across ,stumbling over many feet and managed to barely stand which was a luxury in itself.The bus pulled on with a jerk ,as i swayed forward bumping into a rod, just coming to terms with the use of those dangling holders....
I suddenly became conscious of the fact that my friend whom i seemed to have left to struggle with her fate while getting on the bus had miraculously managed to do so and was now having as much trouble standing as me..
.After a few sharp brakes ,just when i was beginning to appreciate the use of those holders,the conductor squeezed through out of nowhere.And as much illiterate as I am about travelling on a bus,I now knew that my feet had to be trusted upon as my hands would have to leave the safety of those holders to grope their way through my bag for coins.Another brake i knew would send me in forward propulsion....The brake did arrive but surprisingly nothing happened...
It din't take long for me to realise that the reason for it could be the fact that i was so well lodged between two women who were sending me out of breath or maybe that ''out of breath ''feeling was because my nose was too numb due to it's close apposition to the hair downed in jasmine oil.Whatever the reason the propulsion did not, but repulsion did take it's stand.Got the tickets ...one job well done i thought...
But before i could be grateful for anything two ladies planted right in the middle of the bus had to move.Now i seriously din't want to know what was in store for me.My feet i knew were in for impending doom.As they made their way across,i was caught unawares in the eddies of the crowd and like a ping pong ball in a mexican wave [neither am i so light ,nor was it that fun]got transported into the space between two successive seats..and stayed there...
Coming to my friend now,maybe due to the resilience of the attack ,she seemed to have recoiled to the other end and landed [with her enormous bag ] on the lap of a woman who was already sharing the single seat with someone else..and as the lady shooted expletives right in my poor friends ear she had no other choice but to savour them in all glory,because she couldn't budge..Many passengers seemed to have noticed our plight ,coz there was no other reason to explain the giggles..
It took some time for the bus to empty and we got our seats in the last 5min of our journey and almost as a reward the driver offered to drop us off exactly where we wanted.
The next few days somehow were getting better ..infact we soon began to enjoy the bus rides ..,may be because we learned to laugh at ourselves ..or may be because out of the obscure multitude we now knew faces ,nameless faces..but we knew them now...the conductor who recognizes us,the driver who waits for us to hop on,the girl who gets off at the life style showroom,the woman with too much make -up on,the old man who spoke to us about the traffic,the little girl who was moving to the song on the radio ,the ticket we passed on for an unknown guy,the old woman who held us to stand still,the lady who offered to hold our bags...
the subtleties of life seems to echo within a bus.....
so many moods,so many thoughts,so many people all huddled together..intermingling,differences melting down,to form a human web behind all the chaos..
What is it that makes me want to come back....
may be it's the comfort that you are not alone in facing the world....
maybe it's the warmth of the people...
or maybe it's just the aroma of life in the snapshot of a bus....

JEANS THAT FIT U RIGHT...[think friends]

u'll find them in heaps,in blue,beige,in every size..
the boot cut,the straight fit,thebranded,for those not so moneywise,
u crib about how u haven't found the ones that fit u right
but when u do ,hold on to them tight..
u might not c them when they're right under u'r nose..
u might not c them when they r lying too close..
but when u do hold on to them tight
coz u'll never find jeans that fit u right..
they're u'r comfort,they know who u are..
they know u aren't the purported star..
they've seen u drunk,they've seen u puke..
they know u ain't any duke
they've seen u laugh ,they've seen u blue..
they're there for u and u know tht's true..
they might not give u money even if u plead..
but ur pockets will hold pennies just when u need..
coz the jeans that fit u right needn't have prices steep..
thay might be rare ,but they come cheap..
so u''ll know the next time ur in doubt..
those that make u look good ,are those truly worn out...

sounds of silence

in a street i lie..
desperate and lonely in a crowd..
as my mute cries go in vain..
sounds reach out to blinded ears..
as they choose not to see pain..
my words go unheard ,tears dry uncared
prayers unanswered...
and i retire to my fears..
to rest with the buzzing emptiness in my ears..
to hum the elegy of my pain..
awakened only by the sounds of silence