Random Thoughts

The World as I see it



Will you rock my cradle O Mother…



When eyes are brimming with tears

But there isn’t a tear to shed

When emotions are locked in heart

But are too difficult to be read

When I seem unaffected, detached from pain

Sometimes even stone-hearted, uncaring instead

Will you rock my cradle O Mother!

As I sleep in your loving bed?

Because you and you alone do know that

Emotions strong can hardly be expressed


If separations increase far too much

And far away do I go in race

When I am too far for you to reach

And rarely do we meet face to face

When I am panting; thirsty for love

Heart seems deserted and seeks solace

Will you rock my cradle O Mother!

As I sleep in your arms’ embrace?

Because your love is the only way to know

The path right, when there is no other trace


When at the end of the journey I fly

Tired of the long intense flight

When sun bids adieu to the day

Submerges the last ray of light

When my tired body aches

Of all the strife and the intense fight

Will you rock my cradle O Mother!

As I sleep through the endless night?

Will you take me to the greater world

Where endless is the joy and there is no fright?

A Journey called life…



As molecules combined

and emotions intertwined

One of the true marvels of nature

In a hope for a better future

Created was a life form new

With opportunities and expectations due


Society sought a hope, a desire

Someone they thought would have the fire

To reduce the suffering and pains they face

And make the world a better place


And hence was nurtured the fate of the boy

Experiencing the tastes of sorrow and joy

Inherited he the knowledge of the greats

Prepared was he for the future that awaits


A hope remains as he moves on

Trying to add to the beauty of the dawn

With a will to try till the very end

On the the ladder of success to forever ascend


He slips sometimes but never looses sight

Of the ever-guiding beam of light

A desire, a hope and a dream

To bathe in the endless joyous stream


To add a true smile to a face

And make him live in a better place

A hope of a victory after the strife

At the end of a journey called life


21 years of this journey have passed and I can only hope that this thirst never dies because without this desire, life won’t be worth living…


By the way it would be my first birthday in air on the 15th. And yes, I am going back to my motherland India…



Next post from the land of culture, tradition and diversity 🙂

One with the target you do become



How does it feel, on a long unending trail

Or in a voyage with oceans to sail?

With so much to see, so much to adore

Having moments countable, but much to explore


The destination is beautiful, as in your dreams

With lakes and gardens, and countless streams

With birds and butterflies flying around

A place where joy is eternal and  unbound 


The only constraint which remains is time

Travelling too fast, way too sublime

Challenging your limits and your might

Shadowing your mind and filling it with fright


The path once taken cannot be retraced

You cannot give up once challenges are faced

You are free not to to choose the trail

But if once taken, you simply can’t fail


Wait for a moment and out you race

Trying to beat time with your pace

Maybe you fall, but quickly you do rise

You have a bleeding knee, but you never realise

A goal so enchanting that the pain disapears

You care no threats, dangers or fears

Emotions don’t slow down your pace

Mind is steady and undeterred does it race


Slowly the thoughts of beauty and pleasure

Are no longer the things you really treasure

Heart doesn’t fear if at all does it fail

Nor does it think of the beauty of the trail

When selfless, it thinks of nothing but the goal

Focused is your mind, body and soul


And suddenly the trail seems no long

The journey eases and flows as a song

A moment passes and the target is reached

A strong fortress seems easily breached


Aim the target, and target alone

Not the pleasures for which it is known

Victory will then await as you come

And one with the target you do become

Just like a flower


To sway in the swift summer breeze
Without compulsions but with ease
To flow with joy, sorrow and emotion
A strange lunacy, unparalleled devotion

May I live in the present, the current hour
And flow ceaseless with time, just like a flower

To bloom with glory in the springs
Or be the fragrance which it brings
To reach the pinnacle and whither away
With memories in heart of the wonderful day

May I rinse in this joyous, eternal shower
As I stand in the rain, just like a flower

With vivid colours and everlasting charm
To wear a smile and mean no harm
To be so vivid, complex yet pure
To be the joy which shall endure

May I seek such immense power
To fragrant the crusher, just like a flower

Inspired by the post by Le Superkikke

What is it that you call love?


O Friend!

What is Emotion? What is Pain?
The Love, which you seemingly seek day and night,
O Companion! What is it that you call love?
Is it but only full of sufferings?
Is it but only tears of sorrow?
Is it nothing but ocean of grief?

Then why is it, may I know
People in joy, aspire for such a pain?

For me, all are joyous
All brand new, all pure and clean
The blue sky, the green forest
Joys and and sorrows, the bud and the flower…
All are like me…
They all sing, they all dance
It is among all the fun and frolic;
That they aspire to die.
They know no sorrow, neither tears
Nor do they ever try to tame the pain…

Flowers fall off smiling
Moonlight fades with a grin
And full of joy; do the stars
Immerse into the ocean of sky!

Who else is as happy as me?
Dearest friend come to me…
A joyous song of the happy heart
Through which, the soul merges with the one.

If you weep each day
Never will you meet the joy
Never will we forget the grief
And together will sing…

What is Emotion? What is Pain?
The Love, which you seemingly seek day and night,
O Companion! What is it that you call love?
Is it but only full of sufferings?
Is it but only tears of sorrow?
Is it nothing but ocean of grief?

*My attempt at translation of a wonderful song by Rabindranath Tagore.
Here is the original song

Running Around to Keep the Chariot Still


Reading is a pre-requisite to writing. While I must admit that I am not a voracious reader of ‘highly intellectual literary material’, since my entry into the blogosphere I have been reading and enjoying (otherwise I won’t read) thoughts and views by people around the world. So in this regular routine of reading blogs, I came across this interesting piece by my friend priyom…


Dad accompanied and insisted on waiting with us for the school bus. We didn’t want him there, (certain issues regarding inappropriately-handled-teenage-trauma) we were perfectly capable of waiting on our own and we were already shaking with nervousness in our new grey skirts with matching grey stockings.

And it was in those quiet few minutes of silent anticipation that we saw a man with khaki pants and loose chappals. The man was making loud hand gestures and was walking around in circles. We smirked at the behavioral ridiculousness and wondered if there was something wrong with him. Our dad however did not even reciprocate by a small hu-ta-tu.

After that, we would see him there almost every single day, same routine of course. We pronounced him to be unhappily senile and yet crazily amusing. On perfectly good days, he would sometimes sit down to talk to himself from perfect hollow memory. At times, he would simply march to and fro. However if there were in fact more fitting conclusions to this daily show, we never did know because our bus timings did not allow us the opportunity of any more such clarifications.

In the afternoon, we would see him perched on this bench outside a tiny tea shop, staring into the distance. We speculated on an extremely sad family history and on his whereabouts during the night, if he actually had any place he could call home. We saw him as weak and uncared for.

We made it a point to shamelessly stare at him each morning till the day we allowed ourselves to grow up and till there was no longer a bus at 8.30 anymore. We gave ourselves the permission to forget about him simply because we didn’t care enough.


It was some time before I came back home for my college holidays. That day, they were sawing the huge birch tree near our lane. But that old tea-shop was still there. And sitting with the same vacant expression, was the same person that I had lost to memory some years back.

It was not like he was a part of an exciting story and deserved any specific remembrance. But somehow, on highly dramatic grounds, the fact that he was still there, unchanged, unaffected had me feeling triumphant.

His being there told me that he had survived changes and time. Because I sure as hell hadn’t.  Yes, he was a consolation. He was still there.

The author does not state what he had he been doing in the earlier days. Neither do we know whether he was successful in his quest. But the story reminds me of people around me who seemingly achieved nothing all their lives. You might very well say that they wasted one great chance over their cynical acts. Delve deeper into their lives, only to realize how they have meticulously succeeded in what they aimed for. In most cases their rarely appreciated contributions are instrumental in consolidating ground for things which can be appreciated.

Hats off to the wheels of the chariot of success on which our heroes ride; for they are the ones who keep running around to keep the chariot still…

Lifeless Life


I remember those eyes brimming with tears

Innumerable doubts and unknown fears

Firm in belief that heLi would earn fame

But when he comes back, will he be the same?

The world is cruel and harsh and mean

But for him it’s mainly unseen

What if his friends don’t cooperate

Or if he is lost at night and it’s late?

Confusion and chaos fill up her head

And then I saw the lines unread

What happens to her when I bid adieu

When things to do are a countable few

For whom would she prepare; with no one to eat;

The wonderful delicacies and the occasional treat?

Whom would she talk to when on a low;

Won’t her life become way too slow?

No one to talk; no one to hear

No one to share, joy or fear

No grief to be lost, no joy to be found

How lifeless will be life, with no one around?

Before the Sky turns Orange Again


New horizon welcomes with arms wide spread

The sky is orange with a tinge of red

Uncover your blanket as time doesn’t wait

The road is neither short, nor smooth and straight.

Eyelids are heavy and weather too cold

Yet get out of bed just to behold

The warm mild sun clearing the fog

And jolly men out for a jog

Out you go, and never turn back

In search of jewels you think you lack

Explore the woods, enjoy the rain

Before the sky turns orange again


With aspirations new and a novel song

With unending faith, a determination strong

With emotions that no word can bear

May I wish you a Happy New Year.

The Exam of Life



Why are you so restless, my mind?

Is peace that you seek so difficult to find?

Why do you tumble through ups and downs?

Why do you care about the smiles and the frowns?

“Sir! Please! For my Children…” (Bhaiyya! Bachchon ke liye kuchh de do). These words awakened me from a nap, only to  see a pair of hands been spread out in hope of money. I raised my eyes to see a lady, very poorly dressed along with a child, maybe in his tens. I took out a rupee coin and gave it to her.

It was a lazy afternoon and waiting for a train on the platform made it even boring. And after a very busy Christmas, one requires a short nap for sure. But as my sleep was already broken, I decided to take a walk down the platform. Then I saw a bunch of coolies (the people who carry heavy luggage for people) discussing the recent India-Pakistan cricket match. They seemed to be enjoying the rare respite from the work they do.

The jolly mind of mine turned pensive. I was happily rejoicing the long awaited results (which stated that I was amongst the toppers of the class), the eagerly awaited holidays and the ever delicious home-made food (one of the two reasons I want to goto home – the other being sleep). But now I was filled with questions.

“Look at yourself, Arindam! What do you do? Feed yourself over a huge scholarship! And why did you get the silly scholarship? Because you cleared an exam. Does clearing an exam make you so eligible that you make your living virtually without efforts for the next 5 years of life? Where does the money of your scholarship come from? From the government. More precisely, the tax payers. That includes the coolies sitting there, the vegetable vendor who comes to your house daily, the auto driver who drove you to the station.”

Very true! It is eventually they who let me study throughout at subsidised rates. And for all these favours, what do they expect in return? Development. Why is it that the lady had to spread her arms in times of need? I believe that I still have something to do to make the people here proud.

The problem of the country starts only when the brighter lot of the country flees away from the responsibilities. If I use the advantages given by my people for my own benefit and luxury I would be a parasite, a cheater.

So what, if you were born in a dirty lake? If you run away from the lake into a cleaner one, the lake remains to be dirty. Why not clean the lake instead to make the lake realise its true true identity?

“Try to make others happy; happiness for you is born out of the happiness they get.”

Yes I topped my class and a handful of people congratulate me on that. But I await the day when I die – May the world congratulate me on succeeding a exam – the exam of life…

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