The Kashmir Concert - LIVE - Zubin Mehta and the Bavarian Orchestra

FALLEN LEAVES--POEM

1.Cloudy sky singling much needed rains, Sitting on a bench, feeling relaxed free, I’m wondering if the heat wave will go, With the lashing winds and swinging tree. 2.Suddenly winds pick up a menacing speed, And turns into fierce and revengeful dusty storm, Blowing everything on its way, tearing branches, Uprooting trees and scattering leaves of every form. 3.Do these tree lament over the fallen leaves, As humans fight to save their dear ones in vain, Do these trees cry over the broken branches? Or simply look forward to life emerging once again. 4 Such questions often remain unanswered, Why dying is must before life begins anew, Why suffering is essential before glory, And why cross leads to crown but after all hue. ,

THE HORIZON OF MY DREAMS-SHORT STORY- PART 3-THE END OF HORIZON. 3. THE END OF HORIZON

My child is no more a child. At least that is what I am made to understood in the language of a teenager. You should not worry so much for me Mom. I am grown up and can take care of myself. Dad’s DNA!!! You should take care of yourself. Look at yourself. You are just 30 and you look 50. Why don’t you have friends? Why does the smile fade away from your face, the moment we say goodbye? Do you think I don’t understand? Cheer up Mom! I want you to be smiling, cheerful and beautiful looking at all times of the day, even when I am away to school. Promise? This is how the summer vacations ended with a few words of advice from my growing up child. Back to the same crushing routine! I am, however, finding some changes in me. I dress well now. Return home immediately after office, cook the meals I like and wish I could share it with someone who cares. The past is all I have or is it the present? Does my present has a future and who will be responsible for that? I look around and find no one, not even my son. One day he too will be ‘gone’. He will have a career, a family and perhaps a place for me too. I am my own shadow. He seems to be a nice person. He has just taken over as a Head of the Business Division. He does have attitude but then he can afford it. The restructuring process that he has initiated calls for reduction of work force and relocation too. He thinks I am good enough to take charge of a branch but that means leaving the town and going far away from my son. I explain to him that career is not so important to me, my son is. He could understand. I never try to know anything personal about him except that his wife does not live with him. He does not seem to be worried about it. He is sort of a workaholic. He is the first to reach the office and last to go. Higher management is happy with his work. He has so many success stories to his credit. He does not show any personal interest. Times passes so vaguely. We have an annual office party to celebrate the successful year. After a few words of official jargons, we are left to enjoy the evening. I do not why but I thought of giving a try to a glass of wine. I do not know when and how took another glass offered by him. He can be so sporty and copious, I never anticipated. The party gave us an opportunity to open up. We are coming nearer to each other. He invites me to a late dinner on the weekend and I willingly accept it. We keep our meetings as discrete as possible. We do not want any problem in the office. He is as lonely as I am and both have the right to be happy. Old days of happiness seem to be returning. He is so caring. I think I have got my wings again. I can fly again and touch the horizons. I am pregnant and tell him so. You should have been careful, he says. I do not complain. I should have been careful in the first place. He looks worried, lest I may try to take advantage of him and his position. I am told that he has asked for a transfer. Management does not want to lose him and therefore agrees to his request. Don’t worry I tell him. It was my problem. I show him the termination of pregnancy certificate. I am not sure how he felt but I know there is no horizon. I know because I have taken many strides towards it but could never touch it. I will have to look for my horizon within myself. Concluded.

THE HORIZON OF MY DREAMS- SHORT STORY- PART 2-BLURRED HORIZON

Horizon can be so deceptive! It’s like mirage in the desert. One moment it is just within reach. You run towards it and it moves away inviting, tantalizing. Those who know its reality do not fall prey to its deception. It is however possible to possess the horizon however illusory it might be, and I know it. Reality dawn when you lose that horizon of your dreams, and I know it too. Life moves on. I have a past full of treasures, a job for support and a child for company. I am becoming selfish though for my child. I have to tell you, my child, my dear, my dream now or never. When you grow up you will understand why I had to be cruel and selfish. In a quest for a very successful life for you, I have sent you to the boarding school up in the hills. You did not want to go but my ambitious self would not budge. I promised we will meet on weekends. In some remote corner in my heart is the desire to show that I will not fail in taking care of you. Believe me it will be tough in the beginning but in the end we both will succeed. My job was keeping me away from you for hours and you were anyway spending time with others. Sometimes I failed to pick you up at the appointed time, and you had tears in your eyes. It won’t be any different but we will get used to it. Besides, you are not very far from here. I can come to you any time you want me. One day, when you will grow you will realize how this separation helped you in becoming an independent, disciplined and knowledgeable person. Our sacrifice will not go in vain. I am taking this step for your future. Deep inside I also know I am doing it because I have a promise to keep. I have to ensure that you do not hear people saying –‘only if the dad was alive’! Does life moves on for persona like me? Why do I feel my life is stuck at one place? Everything else seems to be normal. The same people are moving around. They are happy and giggling. The cycle of time moves in the same direction. Seasons come and go. The river is still flowing under the bridge. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Clouds deliver rains, sun burns the skin. But why the moonlight is not soothing? Why it looks so lonely? Am I lonely? Should I be? There is hardly any change in the daily chorus. Why is it then I do not feel like returning home after work? Why it does not look inviting? I am becoming workaholic. I am still in office when everybody else has left. In today’s global village, one can work 24x7 but my job contract does not require me to do so. I do get some extra payments but I am not working for that extra payment. I know I do not want to return home. Its empty walls close on me the moment I enter as if to crush me into powder. Sometimes I go without having anything for dinner. Lying awake on the bed does not shorten the night. Many a times my hands reach to the phone to talk to my child and then I withdraw. Five years is a long time but not long enough to forget the loved one. Five years can be very long years in a life of solitude and desertion. Every day comes as one more day of futile struggle. Every night come one more night of depression. Somehow I try to fight it out and remind myself of the goal ahead, the goal of making my child, a child of our dreams, the most adorable person in the world. It keeps me going. I do not know what would have happened to me if we did not have the child. My whole life circles around the life of my child. I am the horizon of my child. I hope you are listening, I will not fail you. My loneliness will not come in the way of your dreams because your dreams are my dreams. Continued

THE HORIZON OF MY DREAMS-SHORT STORY-PART 1-MEETING THE HORIZON

I never knew the true meaning of horizon until we met. As a child I was told horizon was the point where the sky meets the earth. I believed so because I could see it as far as my eyes could take me. I thought of going that far one day and see it for myself. I simply imagined it as best as my imagination could lead me. It was a place where the fairies resided. It was a place full of goodies, dolls, flowers, candies, fancy dresses. As I grew up, I fantasized of horizon a place where two lovers met. Then I was told there was no horizon. It was only an illusion. I tried to go by this logic but imagining, to me, was something very natural. One has to imagine things what one cannot see. Don’t we have an imaginary figure of God, our own God, different from all other Gods? We imagine places we have not seen but hope to see some day. Some places look so beautiful in photographs. May be they are or are not that beautiful in reality. I imagined of foreign lands where soil was green, not as brown and black as ours. I imagined of rainbow forests, silvery peaks, and flowery valleys. I dreamt of all what I thought was beautiful, mesmerizing and twinkling. I was not sure if they existed but I had to convince myself again and again that they did. I met my horizon in you and that convinced me that my dreams were for real. You encompassed me from all sides possessing, protecting and forgiving like the horizon encompasses the earth. I was scared and lacked confidence. You gave me wings to fly and together we flew over the mountains, down the valleys, across the oceans and along the winds. At times we flew against the winds also. Initially I was scared of flying but you were there to hold my hand and I was no more scared. You gave me strength to swim against the tides of the deep and stormy oceans, race along the fast and furious rivers. Why does it happen that faith surmounts all hills? Could I have done this without you or you were there just to witness that I could do it? I knew you will support me if I fall. My faith knew no logic. Strange it does look, but we were not even known to each other before we were made to live life together by our parents. I remember those early days of strangeness and hesitation. As days passed, realization drew home the reality of a life to be lived together. You made it so easy by taking care of me. You could read my mind and peep into my heart. How else you knew everything before I even conceived it? I agree that there are people who can do it if they are in love you. You made me so dependent on you that I could not visualize a life without you. I never wanted to be otherwise. It gave me some unspeakable pleasure and sensation beyond the boundaries of our relationship. I loved being dependent on you. You were perfection incarnate. The horizon of your love for me knew no boundaries. It was limit less. It is for this reason of need for limitless love that the earth does not want to touch the sky. How can it touch the sky that is protecting it from all sides? Illusion it may seem but touching the limitless may defile its purity. How can a mortal human be so perfect? How can one even think of touching perfection? You made me a person capable of facing the world on my own terms. You taught me everything as if I will need them. I could overcome my shyness, my lack of confidence in myself and more importantly to be always on your side in every situation good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant, success or failure. You insisted that I complete my education and obtain a professional degree. You insisted that I take up the job offered to me during the placement times. And then fate snatched you away from me. You knew it. Didn’t you? Now I can recall your words why you wanted me to be strong and independent –‘you may need it Darling’. Trust me I did not fail. You must have seen it from where ever you are. I am raising our child the way you would have wanted. I am not perfect and have to stand on my guard all the time. What if I fail? What if my horizon gets blurred? Continued---

A TRUE CONFESSION-THE REASON FOR STRESS AND DISCRIMINATION IS MAN -HUMOR

My Lord! I have a confession to make. I confess that I am, the man, is the reason for stress for and discrimination against women. From the very beginning I have caused her stress and have discriminated against her in every possible way. It started from the day she innocently offered me that damn apple. Before that she was a very happy person. She would get up in the morning, go about her usual chorus, wander in the vast splendor of the mighty ocean on her boat, occasionally anchor the boat close to some island, collect fruits for a few weeks’ requirement and return to her heaven under the banyan tree for a good night sleep. Then I appeared as I had lost my way in the vast expanse of the ocean and requested her to show the way. She was kind to offer me some sweet water and a fruit which later on I came to know was called apple. I ate the fruit and drank some water and asked for her permission to leave for my destination, still unknown to me. She told me it was too late in the night and I could do so in the morning. I agreed and rested under that banyan tree. Something happened that night and in the morning neither I asked for her leave to go nor did she ask me to go. We would roam about the island, pick fruits and thought we would live happily ever after until one morning she complained of sickness. It was the first morning of sickness but many more mornings of stress. She had no clue what was happening to her nor did I. We thought it would pass. There was no question of my leaving her in this state of affairs. Her belly started growing up bigger and bigger and with this the stress became acute to the point of beyond tolerance. My Lord, since then there has been no let up in the stress level. It has only gone up. In time we were joined by another being like her. After some time she again had those morning sicknesses and then one more addition of a being under the banyan tree sometimes like her, sometimes like me. We developed some sort of feelings for them and consciously knew they were our responsibilities. My lord responsibilities add up to stress more for her because she stopped going out for the sake of them and thus lost her independence. I, on the other hand was not stressed because my job was to remain outside most of the time and for that I had a big excuse of collecting fruits. I confess I should have helped her. My Lord! I also confess I have discriminated against her, not only against her but also against like her. Like me, my likes also joined me in remaining outside for collecting fruits. They learnt pretty fast how not to return before sunset and avoid helping the ‘shes’. I sided with them even though I knew I was wrong. I made sure that those like me got all the attention, ate the best fruits and did practically nothing around the banyan tree. I discriminated against them because they were not like me. With the passage of time, we learnt more tricks to make living more living like. We covered the trunk of banyan tree from all sides and made a cover over our heads to save us from rain and cold. I would say we became sort of permanent livers under that banyan tree. The grownups like me and like her left for better living and probably settled under some tree in pairs of like me and like her. My Lord! I am the 100000000000000000000000000000000thafter as many winters. Today we are so to say modern and civilized but I confess nothing has changed for her, we call woman. I, now called man, am solely responsible for her stressful life and I leave no opportunity to discriminate against her. Still today I do not share any household responsibilities while she for long started sharing outside responsibilities. Her stress level has increased many folds but I couldn’t care less. Same with discrimination. I discriminate against her from day one. She gets lesser clothes, lesser food, lesser education and sadly lesser love. She employed lesser than us, is paid lesser than us, promoted lesser than us and forced to quit in the so called family interest. My Lord! This is my confession, my sin and my redemption. I know it is too little but I think partly it is your fault too. You could have kept me with you. She would have been still single, stress free and independent. She definitely could have lived without me. Now she has got used to me and I am used to her. Confession is the only way-out.

THE CROWD PULLER -3-IDENTIFICATION WANTED-STORY

Three days after the following Notice appeared in the local News paper. “IDENTIFICATION WANTED. General Public is hereby informed that a man, who was seen performing jugglery at several places in the town for the last one year was found hanging from a tree in the Town Hall Park. Post mortem report has confirmed death by strangulation and no foul play is suspected. So far no body has come forward to claim his body. He is about 35 years of age, medium built, wheatish color, about 5’ 7” height. His photo is given below. Anybody known to him may contact the town police station within 3 days. If no claimant comes forward within the stipulated time, the body will be donated to local medical hospital.” Normalcy has already returned in the town. Media has more spicy subjects to cover. Some journalists tried to follow the rumor of someone looking the juggler performing in nearby town but could not establish the truth. There were people swearing by their Gods or mother but that was all. They too were of no help. This only showed how unconcerned our journalists are. They need someone to take them to the subject and then only they can click their cameras, activate their mikes and open their mouths like untrained parrots. Some families who had earlier said the face resembled the face of their long lost son did come to the police station but returned without saying anything. Had the dead man left some fortunes behind there would not have been any dearth of claimants but who cares for a man so shabbily dressed lying in a police morgue with a decomposed body? The three days notice passed and if anything happened it was that the body became 6 days older and still dead. Police was left with no option but to notify that the body of the juggler has been donated to the town hospital. It was expected that the doms there will help the student doctors learning anatomy.