VIRTUAL BEINGS

your mind is an endless well
of ideas brimming with ideas that gel
friends brooding for a golden deal
or a passion which is virtually nil
it’s a journey fraught with much pain
if you are looking for some virtual gain
who says we live in a real world
of typefaces which mirror your emotions
a machine that never fails to deliver
a message, sentiments on a virtual platter
when the fingers type out the last word
its not the technology that has failed
but the human who has stopped feeling
when I stare at a blank screen in reality.

Aabaad Karo khandhar (in hindi)

Woh dil se karti hai bayan
mera ek ghar tha yahan.
Pahad se nadi behti thi jahan.
Woh dhoodti hai bhai kee chapal.
Ek soorahi, aur gudiyon ka makaan.
Is khandar mein kon lotayega uski hansi.
Dur tak koyee aadmi bacha nahi jahan


Behta paani talaashta hai
Ek naya rasta
Toote pahad bhi nahi
Rok sakte uski fitrat.
Aadmi bhi aaj
Jaalata hai ek diya
Is veerane kee
Cheekh ko cheerta hua.


Haree vadiyon mein basa hai
Mera ek sundar gaon
Dekhna hai to phavde chalao
Ek naya nalanda shahar
Is khandar mein daba hai
Ek sanskriti bayan karta hai.

Choices---Amongst The Ruins

Today I despair, dont know
What to do, where to go
Choose to sleep in the cold
Or dig a grave in anticipation
Choose to walk uphill
Hoping for a shelter in vain.
Choose to stay back, wait
For benefactors aid
A body with waning breath
a wail of anguish and death
Can I
Choose to leave behind a life
Torn by the earths rumble?
Or choose to walk to a new dawn
Build a life to live again
LIGHTING A CANDLE
Atop the ruins of a city
With hands which yesterday
Had buried the stone-dead.

A GHOST CITY---BHANGARH

Near Jaipur in INDIA, a 2 hour drive away , nestling amongst the hills are the ruins of Bhangarh. Many stories of ghosts abound ---some scary ,others overtly nostalgic. The fort is in ruins, just below it there is an old temple of LORD SHIVA and a pond which is continuously filled with a stream. Behind the temple is a large garden filled with keora trees--botanically known as PANDANUS spp. Keora scent is a must in all the pujas and havans done by INDIANS in their religious ceremonies and the scent is extracted from the flowers of the plant. An old lady is grazing her goats on the lawns of the ruins. There is no entrance ticket to the site and we could not see a gate man either to tell the story of the fort to a curious traveller.

Ggrrrrrrrrr...a large group of monkeys welcome us at the entrance of the fort, where an elevated stone temple stands. Black faced and red faced LANGURS are eager to jump at our bags for goodies. They stare and escort you all the time you are in the premises. We wonder," is it their hallowed territory we have entered without permission?"Never try to feed them and they leave you alone is a valuable lesson learnt. Amidst the green hills we stroll on the beautiful green palm dotted gardens, admiring the architecture of the fort splendidly standing in isolation even today. Plants and trees dot the landscape.

The ruined fort also had a marketplace in a row, all shops have their roofs blown off. Why? What tragedy befell the people here we wonder?Did they abandon this site? The locals say the ghosts live here. We climb atop a hill to reach the main palace built in redstone, now crumbling. Some of it is being restored by the archaelogical dept and it would be a long time to restore the complete structure. Let people see the life of rajas and thakurs of yore and ponder about their living areas . WE, IN THE CITIES, LIVING IN MATCHBOX HOUSING WHICH IS BEREFT OF ANY AESTHETICS CAN ONLY ENVY THE RUINS OF BHANGARH.