Writing is simple,but not easy.

January 23, 2014

Indelible India

Where we get fairness in a tube
and Taj Mahal is a lube,
Where  Balaji wines,
and Ganpati dines.

Where Bheem is a cartoon
and Lakshmi is a bai
Where Maula is found in malls
And Christ in stalls.


Where Akbar royally travels
and Spice is really a jet
Where corruption is a skill
and tears come on the will.

Where paroles are like a remote control
and people fight for channels.
Where reality shows drag and drift
and supreme justice is done in a lift.

Where mothers buy traditions
and fathers kill girls.
Where death is on every page
and rape has a blind spot.

Where support is not a family
and payers are alarmed
Where reliance is broken
and brothers in arms.


Where there is democracy in shouting
and silence in candles.
Where News anchors manufacture consent
and reality is conspicuous by its absence.

Where Chinese food is Indian
and Parathas are called wraps
Where butter is on a billboard
and water dries in taps.

Where movies escape reality
and your library is Facebook
Where deadlines can wait
and yet updates cannot be late.

Where opinions are cheap
and onions priced high
Where nominations are inherited
and inheritance is discredited.

Where Shivaji is the Boss
and Parvati is found in a cafe
Where God used to play cricket
and priests only collect tickets.

Where honking is a birth right
and road rage is a given
Where torching busses is a regular sight
and empty glasses start a fight.

Where science touches Mars
and originality is lost in scars,
Where you sleep peacefully at night
and the soldier is ready to fight.


Where scams are common wealth
and toilets promote public health
Where you crib and bitch , scream shit.
and yet you do nothing about it.




Gyanban Thoughts : India is a land of paradoxes and irony and we shout scream, discuss and debate...but like me, most of us do nothing about it. So if I am not going to do anything about the way my country is being run, then I give up the right to crib about how it is run and who runs it.I give up the right to feel frustrated,because this is the life I chose no one forced.and if one day I cant take it anymore, then I will do something about it and earn the right to question the system.

January 16, 2014

Guddu's Story



The hills have eyes.

Its true. I found out that night while walking uphill.


The overnight snow had made the walking path quite   vulnerable. The sharp edges of broken pebbles and rock      chips mixed with mud and snow made for  a walkers            nightmare. Usually,I walked six to eight times everyday quite comfortably.Though towards the end of the day it would get quite tough,but I would still make it to the top.I was not alone.There were others walking as well,and it always gave me support and    encouragement.

I never could understand why we needed to carry the load everyday? They came in all shapes and sizes, some had really bad odor and some loads were simply back breaking.I  tried my best to keep going but every now and then I would stop to take a breather.My master would get wild at me.He whipped me,abused me and kicked between my legs.It hurt. My neck bled when my master clenched his fist.

It was just after sunset and there was no moon in sight.My master never came to see me as he would usually do every night. He would never miss giving me food even if we had a fight early in the day. I was worried for my master today.
I didn’t worry about the stiff winter chill across my face and snowflakes that dotted the skyline. The place soon emptied and I was alone standing under a thick cloud cover and snow fall. I stood at the foot of those hills watched others go by as usual.As it grew colder and windier,at first I hesitated to move from my fixed place, but then I ventured to a nearby shed.

Its then I saw something quite extraordinary. A rock tumbled from the top of the hill and stopped in front of me.It was not an ordinary rock.It had a flat top,as if someone had just sliced the uneven part on top and the bottom firmly gripped into the ground.

Before I could unravel the flat rock mystery,another identical rock came tumbling down. And within minutes a barrage of rocks came rolling down. Was it an earthquake? I don’t know.It was a bit confusing and scary considering that there was no sound in the vicinity.
There was snow everywhere,except on those rocks. As I lifted my eyes,I could see the rocks had formed a path leading on to the hills.I was inexplicably drawn out of my shed and stepped on top of the first rock. Was it trying to show me a way? I set foot on the second rock out of unstoppable curiosity and before I could bat an eyelid,I was walking on top of the rocks at a brisk pace.

This was the same difficult hill I would walk up and down everyday, but today it all          seemed so unfamiliar.For a minute I did  think all of this was a dream, but it wasn’t, even after I had shaken my head three times!
At precisely the two hundred and thirtieth step ,it became clear to me.I saw a red stain on the white snow.It was master.He lay there helpless,hope less,motionless ,and perhaps lifeless.He had been hit by a boulder.

I did consider, albeit quite momentarily, but certainly, leaving him right there and walking back,but I didn’t.I stopped to think.I took a moment to recount my journey on the hill. The steepness never tired me, the mud and snow didn’t slow me,the rock chips didn’t hurt me and moreover,I was not tired anymore either. I managed to wake up my master, and all he said was 'Guddu I knew you would come', I nodded and brought him back to  town.

The hills have eyes I concluded.




Gyanban Thoughts : The story is a narration by a young pony.The inspiration for this fairytale came from a little pony called Guddu,I saw in Kufri. The locals used their mules and ponies to carry people up the hill and back for money. The irony was that neither was the money enough for the master to feed himself and his horses nor was it easy on the pony to carry overweight people up the steep hill.
As a result the masters would whip,kick and shout to keep the ponies moving. The quicker they finished the ride the better chance to earn more money,while the tourists had the   time of their lives.

I realised somebody's joy, was someones pain.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

January 1, 2014

Real Dreams

Where dreams are real,
And life is fair,
Where love prevails
And hatred is rare

Where honesty prevails
And self esteem reigns
Where self discipline is first,
And ignorance is a shame.

Where we back each other
And live happily together
Where there is just joy
And and sadness is not a ploy.

Where everyone gets to eat
And no one is alone,
Where everybody Is safe
And they have a home.

Everyone says its just a dream,
And Reality will check.
Is there one who believes?
And not make dreams trapped in checks and balances.





Gyanban Thoughts: As John Lenon said dreaming together makes it a real. We all need to dream together and it will become real.So let live,let love,and if need be,let go. I wish all readers of Gyanban  a very peaceful and dreamy new year. May you all have the courage to make your dreams come true. Happy New Year!

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