The Journey

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Written in June 2008. Followed by a poem written in December 2013.

Every morning is a new night. Every morning the struggle begins. For they are the condemned – the lesser of god’s children.

In this incarnation, it’s no fault of theirs. But who knows how the karma bank works?

Every morning, after a bath as quick as a blink, and a breakfast as frugal as an ejaculate, these lesser, yet envied from afar, men and women go about doing what they are best at. Or what they got to do out of no choice. But their destinations vary and a journey has to be undertaken. This journey is where they are tested the most. Not only are the weak weeded out, they are mercilessly banished. All they had to do was say yes to the journey and then survive it.
This journey is none like the ones we hear in lores and legends. This journey is different. It happens everyday, for one. It happens everyday, twice, for second.

And it is no child’s task. Heck no! It’s no man’s task either. You have to be much more than just a man to survive it. Or maybe less.

Another peculiarity about the journey is that you can’t just go about it by yourself. One of the most important elements is you need to take up someone else’s place. You have to dethrone someone in order to win. Even if your objective doesn’t need you to win over others.

It happens in more than one stages too. Stage one requires one to get out of the house and onto the land. From here you catch a feeder ship to get into the current. The current is what carries you to your destination or your final shuttle. Getting to the feeder ship is a task by itself. Walking for what seems like miles in the scorching sun, the freezing wrap of winter or the wet muckiness of the rains, you reach the feeder ship port. There are other warriors waiting there. They watch you with interest and disdain when you arrive. Eying you from head to toe, they try to intimidate you with their wrathful stares. You defiantly stare back. While this war with stares and glares is happening, you and everyone else hears a distant roar that grows louder each moment.. On the horizon, you can see a cloud of smoke. Everyone readies for the arrival of the feeder ship…

Tension mounts as bags are clasped harder than an orgasmic nubile girl clasps the bedsheet. Eyes are squinted and the foot adjusts itself inside the shoe, resting on the toes, ready to run, jump, kick… The air is balmy, with a disgust of the curse, more than anything else.

At last the feeder ship arrives. Before it has even chance to harbour, people leave port as if the land is poisoned. Some get in, some stay hanging at the porthole. Some sadly never make it. But not one soul waits behind to tend to them or even empathize. Some get in. For them this day, shall not end here for. A good start is always a good omen. And a good omen is the most worthless thing in this land.

The feeder ship moves swiftly for sometime. No one is comfortable. No sir. Not at all. But then comfort is a luxury for rarer times. Suddenly the feeder ship stops. None are too unaccustomed to care. No one even cares to ask their neighbor why, or even stare out of the window. Maybe it’s a crushed boat. If it is, the people in the feeder boat will just curse their luck, for they will have to be inside this hell for some more time. And time is something, every one has on wrist, but none has on hand.

Stopping like this more often than not, the feeder nonetheless reaches the current somewhere near the appointed time. As people get down on the created port near the current, they heave a sigh of despair even as they get ready to get into the current.

The current was created both as a curse and a respite. It was actually created as a respite. But man with his infinite amount of resourcefulness, managed to turn the boon over on its head. The current is an extremely long, serpentine device which enables the lesser of god’s children to undertake their journeys. Only problem with it is, it makes the feeder ship look like Eden.

Getting ready to get into the current is describable in no words. It takes guts, nothing else. And it takes guts that are ready to get churned. As people get onto the man created port, they can see the ones already in the current. These onboard people evoke extremely mixed reactions. Envy, for they are already on. Relief, for they are not you.

After undergoing a battle with others, at least three times fiercer than undergone to get into the feeder ship, the lucky or the more skilled ones get into the current. Inside the current is no romance novel setting. You are dumped with those who share the same genitals as you do and these genitals brush against yours and other anatomy. It’s not pleasant and there are so many of the cursed ones, you cant even move. The collective body heat is so much, it would make the Queen sweat and smell dirty. The current is no man’s land and no man wants to be in it. Condemned is not an adjective these souls took on by choice.

Having borne the current, the final shuttle with the intensity of the feeder ships seems like a rose garden. Having gotten down on another man port from the current, the final shuttle is taken with much more ease.

Then after a day’s work worth every man’s salt, the journey back home begins. They call it life in Mumbai. And it is lived every single day

-X-

Reblogged from The Official Poetry Tuesdays Blog

The Travel Poem

Walk-walk, Run-run, Catch a bus, get a Rick;
Bustle in the busy local, get in Quick Quick!

Hands up, bag down, feet hanging in the air,
Fourth seat, get it NOW, stare a butt in the face.

Sit-sit, Squirm-squirm, Shift seat, do it now!
Quarrel in the ladies dabba, Boom Boom Pow Pow!

Read more… about 40 more words.

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Long Copy Ad – Product: Writing

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*Written for the Introduction to Writing Course held at Northpoint, Khandala for advertising students.*

“Aww! He’s learned to walk!”
“Oh my god! He’s grown so tall!”
“If I would have met you in the streets, I would not have recognized you at all! The last I saw you, you were a baby!”

Time and again, as we grow from a child to a teenager to a young adult, people around us, of course, except immediate family, notice how we have grown, how much we have changed. As a person standing inside the gigantic footprint of Godzilla, we keep looking at the ground and around, failing to see where it is.

“I want to get into client servicing!”
“I am so good at drawing, I will become an artist!”
“I can’t do maths! I am not going to take science!”

As we grow up, along the path, we keep stepping into chewing gum. Chewing gum of who we think we are, who others think we are, who we should be.

“But, boys should not wear nail paint!”
“All girls are mean!”
“I am who I am!”

And you know what happens when you step into chewing gum. It doesn’t go off! Imagine your entire body being covered in the chewing gum of what you think you are. And now imagine all sorts of dirty things sticking on to that. Runaway hair, flying sticky wrappers, dust, pebbles…eww! I wouldn’t want to be you!

Yet, we keep insisting we are what we are. By the time we are just about exiting our teen ages, most of our ideas have been formed for life. What you like, what you dislike, what you think you are capable of, how you think the world and people function. These ideas also shape how open we are to learning new things. And barring a few lucky individuals who go through ‘life changing’ incidences, we take these young ideas to our graves.

Except, when you leave markers all along your life path. Like photographs of the inside you. When you write. Maybe a poem. Maybe a story. Maybe just a daily or weekly diary. Something that pegs you down to who you were when you did that. Because writing is like that. A blog, a notebook, the back of your bus ticket, the notes on your phone, wherever you are writing, you are leaving an imprint of you for you to look back at 2, 10, 20, 40 years down the line.

And when you look back, you would be amazed to see how much you have grown, how much you have changed! You might even be embarrassed about how immature you were! This is true even of when you are writing as a 40 year old and reading 20 years later as a 60 year old!

But don’t be embarrassed. See the chewing gum for what it was. Get into the habit of cleaning it off regularly. Fall in love with the you who wrote what you are reading now. Because really, you are not who you are. You are much more. Just leave some milestones in writing to look back at. Because nothing else can capture the real you. The changing you.

Writing-writing-31277215-579-612

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26 things that happen on the other side of 25

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1 – Too many people around you are married.

2 – Nobody asks you what college you are in, anymore. You look older.

3 – That college chick in the mini-skirt doesn’t look sexy anymore. She looks like a kid.

4 – You are horrified that college kids are already drinking with their other kid friends at only 18!

5 – 18 year olds have started calling you Uncle.

6 – You thought you couldn’t grow any new hair on the body after 20. You realise you were wrong.

7 – You thought that the body you had at 22 was going to stay with you forever. It is still with you, but with a little extra paunch.

8 – Sports can no longer be indulged in without the preparatory warm-up.

9 – Carpal tunnel and spondylitis have started looking more real.

10 – Those 20 hour long sleep sessions that used to be once-a-week? The last one I think was 3 months ago.

11 – 8am actually seems late when you automatically get up at 6am everyday! No matter what time you sleep.

12 – Women in your friend list have become symbiotic organisms. Every social media post starts with, “Me and (spouse name) wish/think/congratulate…”

13 – Parties, road trips, dates no longer have the same zing and colour that they had at 21.

14 – The learning curve of the new phone is noticeably steeper. Yet, your younger siblings seem to take to it like monkeys to trees.

15 – Winning an fb argument or getting a friend request doesn’t light up the reward areas of the brain anymore.

16 – Relationships become functional. Hurt becomes the given. Happiness becomes the bonus. Total flip from 5 years ago.

17 – Personal and professional merge. That promise to yourself to not use friends for work? Guess what. Friends are now because of work.

18 – School friends, college friends, colony friends all have their own lives now. Meeting them becomes rarer but sweeter.

19 – You actually miss your teachers from school and college. Especially the ones that took the time to give you a hard time.

20 – You understand why family is so important. It is the only thing that remains constant while everything else changes.

21 – Making money takes up all of your time. But if that was taken away, there is nothing else to do.

22 – Your superb skin you had after college? It has a become a whole new palette. Age marks are real and now.

23 – You don’t feel like using your writing/art from days gone by. It seems like plagiarising from someone else.

24 – You realise you no longer are ok with shady hotels, cheap motels and plastic cups for alcohol. It comes as a shock.

25 – Your dreams and ideals become a luxury to indulge in when you have the time. You try and pass some of them onto the next generation.

26 – You realise that the world has changed a lot since you were a kid. You feel grown up not because of your paunch, your beard, your marriage, your promotion. You feel old because you no longer relate to the younger ones.

 

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