Friday, December 31, 2010

What is it that we are supposed to do.

May the dark shivering
 beast in you lay low.

And the even odd
merging wickedness go slow

The eye has made the most obvious call
and as it involves each and all.

as we go through the motions with no clue.

What is it that we are supposed to do.

Are we supposed to create revolutions.

Are we supposed to be transforming new generations

Are we to fight hunger, illiteracy and corruption.

Or are we going through the motions.

What it is we are supposed to do.

Do we look for bigger purpose.

should we fight for good and just

Do we crave for love

or do we love gravely

Do we hunt for faith

or we trust blindly

When a shivering beast of even odd wickedness

Lies within you and me

When you eye watches at me with caution and vice versa

And then we do what we are not supposed to do

Tell me for once then

What is it that what we are supposed to do.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Mid Night Mass - Pune Watch

Photo Credit : Averee Burman. 

Can not explain the experience totally but can share a few tokens.

It was a silent night as we walked towards the house of God and we prayed. The alter and the surroundings gave us the feel of what it must be like to forget oneself and lay in the arms of the God, meditate your mind into peace and celebrate.

To be frank, the ceremony is not something we understood or completely followed with faith but the whole  experience of being a part it was enriching.

Lately popular culture has raised a lot of questions on this great old religion (at least the ones I have seen) and yet it was nice to see the core - belief, faith, hope  and joy at work.

And yes we were a group of young people and we did enjoy as young people do and they should.





 As said before, can not explain the experience totally.  

Friday, December 24, 2010

Comic Konnection - (The Christmas tale)


It’s a chilly morning as I decide to wake up and start my usual routine. So I get ready to go to school. The snow on the fifth street is something that I do not like especially as car tends to slip. Today is no different. I dress up and reach school. Not in mood for anything. I do want a dayoff today.

But Mr. Sherman wants to do an activity today. It is about charity since Christmas is around the corner, hence I can’t even say no. So I donated my comic books. My Archie's, my Axterix's and my Batman collections which once were my life at but now as a 16 year old, I don’t’ need them anymore.

My School in US is located in a small farming town where livelihood of locals thrives on apple farming and lately with New Zealand exporting apples for cheap, my family along with hundreds of other households is suffering. 

So Mr. Sherman collected all the donated items, we wrapped them and send them across to various countries in the world. We also wished Merry Christmas to unknown people in Africa, Asia and Eastern Europe.

6 years Later.
------------------------------------

I have now settled quite well here in India. I live in a small little apartment in Mumbai (Bombay) working 5 days a week in a well-known firm for a handsome compensation

For my latest holiday I have gone to Manali in Himachal and I am just roaming on the streets in one of the village near Solan. A small kid crosses me. He appears six may be seven and looks very thin. And he asks " Dada tumhe padna aata hai" 
(Brother do you know how to read). "Ha". (Yes ). Ye padke bolo na phir (please read this for me then) and he gives me an Archie's Comic. 
I open it to read and then - oh its mine. It cant be, but it is.  So I read a section. But I cant help it. So I end up telling the kid, that this book was once mine. 

I feel for the kid and hence arrange for his education with help from a Delhi based NGO. And then I forgot all about it.

20 years later.
-----------------------------------------------------

I am a big Manager now and I meet young people, old people, greedy people and hence I dont usually feel something great to meet some one new and especially a young man. But this young man I met this morning rocked me to my core.

And then he said those unbelievable words, " Sir, I am the same boy from Manali."  

He was a dynamic young man now and somewhere in all his achievements and educational qualifications was a platform which my comic book had aroused. It lead him to seek education and it lead him to success.

Through the Boy's Eyes. (After 50 more years)
-------------------------------------------------------------
I am dying next month due to incurable tumor and hence this is my will - " I, Sameer Sheikh here by leave all my industries, wealth and real estate to my son as the sole and only owner, but I also give him my most priced possesion my comic book which made me all what I am now"

And then the Boy (Sameer) died.  [I was also dead by then of course. But to complete the story I would still use first person so bear with me. As if you have a choice.]

So Sameer's son read the will and then as he drove out from his lawyer’s office, he threw away, the most priced and yet useless thing that his father had left him, out of the car. 

The book was gathering dust along roadside until a kid, from the nearby slum, picked it up out of curiosity. It seems, he is reading it and looks as if he actually likes it too, I am so happy.

May be, just may be the comic book can inspire him too.
Well that’s the hope!!!    

By Ninad Tatke


Aim (Poem)

Some Skies are cold
Some Skies are warm

Some are filled with webs
Some are with clouds

Yet the Sky I seek
stands clear
mocking at me
And each jump I take

Lands me back on earth, hurt.
Hurt from pain.
Hurt from emotions.

And then some day
I find new ground

And I jump and I fly
I glide like a eagle
I float like a kite
Skies dont bother me
And gravity ignores

Sky does not matter anymore
no praise for it no encore
What matters is the grace of the jump
and the pleasure of the flight.

Lost - the poem (st)

Think of the sea
think of the waves
think of the cool smell of coconut
through her hair

Think of the sand
in your shoes
Think of the smile
you had seen on her face

Think of the night
Think of the day
Think of the time you have spent in her arms
Think of the warmth and think of the calm

Brace your mind each time you feel lost
And just think of the sea.