Mirage- A desert dream

Through endless dunes of sun-baked land

Amongst ashen trees and forsaken abodes

A gypsy wanders through inimical expanse

In search of an oasis in a sea of sand

Alluring, enticing, and inviting which seems

He follows a mirage of a distant stream

For miles he walks but finds no reprieve

Yet continues the course which shimmers and gleams

The sun beckons him to find a shade

His throat parched and feet ablaze

An apparition it is that he goes after

Which he might have seen once in a haze

Oblivious to the heat, the sun, the sand

Like a whirling Dervish in an esoteric trance

Guided by a falcon he marches ahead

To catch the illusion in his hand

Though weary and lost he may seem

And he may never find his Eden

He believes and goes on and on

Living his delusional desert dream.

Queen for a night

This story is from a sire

Who lived ages ago,

Taught his child the value of love,

And raised an aching ado

 There once lived a girl,

As warm and gentle can be,

She was an unvoiced beauty

Left for the gaping world to see.

Loved a man did she so dearly,

But forever feared her lamented lack

In her heart she wept night and day,

For she knew he’d never love her back

The man was righteous

He was the part of everyone’s being

The man was spiritedly feisty

Hence he was known as the king!

The girl was humble,

And dared not a word she ever said.

However lovely she might be,

She was the gracious king’s maid

She sat under the moonlit heaven,

and gazed at the stars above.

Though she knew it was all in vain,

She sang of her unrequited love.

‘Twas then that she heard a clamor,

Of soldiers hastening forth and back.

Hue and cry rocked the kingdom,

As it was under an unforseen attack.

Ruthless and cruel as the assailants were,

Showed no mercy to young and old

It wasn’t the kingdom that they sought

They wanted the queen if truth be told

A callous king from a distant land

Had long been feeding a wicked obsession

He wanted to avenge a lost battle

By seizing the king’s most prized possession

The pining maiden, when she saw

the malicious plan unfold before her eyes

decided to save the queen, come what may

With a plan of her own devise

Amidst all the mélange of chaos,

She sneaked into the queen’s chamber

Told her of the impending doom

And offered to be the royal’s savior.

Upon hearing this menacing news

The king himself scuttled into the room

Having taken by surprise, said he

Was feeling feeble in this night of gloom

“Hope still burns deep and bright”

The queen consoled her forlorn king

For this loyal maiden hath been a blessing

And together we face what tonight shall bring

Having heard the maiden’s plan

The king rose up to heartily avow

Never had he met a young so brave

He then placed a kiss upon her brow

Not long after their little dialogue

Did the enemy march in to capture the prize

Surprised they were to see the chamber empty

With just the beautiful queen in sight

She stood fearless in the candlelit room

Ready to face fate’s undue test

But even at worst she did not imagine

being stabbed mercilessly through the chest

The evil king finally quenched his obsession

Thinking now ceased has his eternal lament

Little did he know he was fouled again

When the maid and queen traded their garment

This was a story of a lovelorn girl

Who sacrificed for her love and his plight

Though her existence once unknown to the king

Still she became his queen for the night

By: Rashveen Maini & Ayona Sur

With every fleeting day, I sink deeper into this fathomless quagmire and I am going down with a smile on my face and an ache in my heart.

Happiness is fugacious, you blink and it's gone.

Roar for a Cause

There are just around 1411 tigers left in India. WWF-India is encouraging people to spread the word and show solidarity and support for tiger conservation.
"Speak up, blog, share the concern, stay informed… Every little bit helps."
http://www.saveourtigers.com/index.php

Growing up on an assembly line

Who has the time to stop and smell the coffee? We are the children of a systematic world expected to be born overachievers whose lives and decisions are driven by the million expectations of our parents and the rest of the world. We start running in a lifelong marathon the day we start school. Weekends are a delusion and vacations are synchronized hiatuses to catch a little breath before we start running again. You know something is quite not right when you find yourself envious of the life your dog leads. An ideal life without any qualms about the past or apprehensions about the future. Talk about living in the moment.
The downside of being a living and breathing homo sapien in the twenty first century is that we have forgotten the meaning of the term. The "wise man" is hardly wise anymore. We have complicated our lives a bit too much and entangled ourselves in material wealth so much so that we are hardly the masters of our lives. Life's journey has become nothing but a profit and loss statement, defined by what we have achieved and what we failed to achieve.
While I wouldn't exactly want the life of a dog..it would be nice not to worry about the future or the past. It would be nice not to be pushed around by numerous expectations (often unsaid but understood). It would be nice to be your own boss. But its hard to go against the current. We are a species mass produced, grown on an assembly line, and expected to succeed without any malfunctions.

Tread Softly...

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

-William Butler Yeats

Forgotten War, Forgotten Heroes

Exactly ten years ago India went through one of the most gruesome wars with Pakistan. The war was broadcasted on the television sets in every living room and people watched how our men fought with valor and died with dignity for Indians and India. We were able to watch the war in the comfort of our homes because we knew we were safe, because we had complete faith in our men in that they will thwart any deleterious aspirations of the enemy. We watched them beam with confidence as they captured bunker after bunker in one of the most inhospitable environments. Watching them our hearts swelled with pride and our convictions were made all the more stronger that they will return victorious. But now, 10 years later, some people seemed to have forgotten it or rather been ignoring it. Our politicians of course are in the limelight again. Only if somebody could remind them that the Indian men in uniform do not fight or work for one political party. They fought for the nation and died for the nation, and I think they deserve a lot of respect and honor from everyone. While one politician says, “Kargil isn't a thing to be celebrated. The war was fought within our territory. We didn't even come to know when the Pakistani army crossed over and built bunkers inside our territory. It's only the NDA which may celebrate,” the other one doesn’t even remember when the war was fought and won. Forget big national level celebrations, government isn’t even going to give a thank you speech for the services provided by our men. What a big boost of morale our men will receive.

Can’t they shun playing crass politics for once and pay homage to the Kargil war heroes which they so rightfully deserve? This just goes to show that we are represented by some of the most callous, hypocrite and undeserving people. A big disappointment comes from Prime Minister Singh who took out time to attend the Bastille Day Parade in France. Perhaps he too has forgotten Kargil and its heroes.

There is this Hindi poem "OOnchaai"(Heights)by former PM Atal Bihari Vajpayee which ends with this line:
"My Lord, Never let me climb so high that I can't bend down to embrace another human. Deliver me ever from such arrogance."

What If...?

Na tha kuch to khuda tha, kuch na hota to khuda hota,
duboyaa mujhko hone ne, na hota mein to kya hota

At some point life comes to a sudden halt along with the realization that it wasn’t being controlled by you even though you may think you were in charge. It’s not until a maelstrom sweeps you away or the sheer redundancy of everyday events envelop you that you realize you had been nurturing a delusion thus far and chasing will-o'-the-wisps in a make belief world. It is then that you “wake up” to an excruciatingly painful realization of utter desolation and a void that had been formed while you were away from yourself. That void, an enemy in disguise, befriends and provides solace for some time but slowly bedevils every passing thought every time you decide to retreat to it. It becomes an addiction of sorts and insecurities and fear take a hold of you. Rest of the world seems tepid and devoid of any concern. You become the only spectator in the theater of life, where you spend your life watching the rest of the world live theirs in an unremitting movie. You start wondering about the “What Ifs..?” About the possibilities that could have been. You wait and wonder that perhaps somehow you will wake up from a horrible incessant dream or go back into the make belief world where you are happy chasing will-o'-the-wisps.

Hui muddat ke Ghalib mar gaya par yaad aata hai,
wo har ek baat pe kehna ke yun hota to kya hota.

The camera can photograph thought. ~Dirk Bogarde

I've always loved looking at pictures, and I've always envied people who have managed to be in the right place at the right time to snap that jaw-dropping and awe inspiring vista.To me photographers are poets, storytellers, and artists. To be able to tell a story or give character to still life, they have to have a bit of a philosopher in them as well.
I've just been so in love with my camera lately that I must have clicked away over a thousand pictures in the last one month. It's been a lot of help in taking my mind off of certain issues. I also feel when I am with my camera I become more observant which helps bring out a poet, an artist, and somewhat of a philosopher in me. And also what's so wonderful about photography is that it is a language in itself which is understood by everyone regardless of their ethnicity, vernacular etc. It speaks a silent language of emotions which is inbuilt in each and everyone of us.
I will end it here and hope those who visit my blog will take some time to go through my pictures and spend a little time with me in my memories (see that's the closet philosopher I was telling you about.. ;) ).
http://picasaweb.google.com/rashveen.maini
http://rashveen.aminus3.com/
And thanks for visiting.

"Quote-Unquote"

"Facts do not vanish because they are ignored, and when they compel attention, there is a feeling of displeasure and resentment at the unexpected happening, as of some trick having been played (Nehru, The Discovery of India)."

"I love India, not because I cultivate the idolatry of geography, not because I have had the chance to be born in her soil, but because she has saved through tumultuous ages the living words that have issued from the illuminated consciousness of her great ones (Rabindranath Tagore)."

"Man's dearest possession is life, and since it is given to him to live but once, he must so live as not to be seared with the shame of a cowardly and trivial past, so live as not to be tortured for years without purpose, so live that dying he can say: 'All my life and my strength were given to the first cause in the world-the liberation of mankind (Lenin)' (Nehru, The Discovery of India)."

"Today she swings between a blind adherence to her old customs and her slavish imitation of foreign ways. In neither of these can she find relief or life or growth. It is obvious that she has to come out of her shell and take full part in the life and activities of the modern age. It should be equally obvious that there can be no real spiritual or cultural growth based on imitation. Such imitation can only be confined to a small number who cut themselves off from the masses and the springs of national life. True culture derives its inspiration from every corner of the world, but it is home-grown and has to be based on the wide mass of people. Art and literature remain lifeless if they are continually thinking of foreign models. The day of a narrow culture confined to a small fastidious group is past. We have to think in terms of the people generally and their culture must be a continuation and developments of past trends, and must also represent their new urges and creative tendencies (Nehru, The Discovery of India)."

"About her (India)there is the elusive quality of a legend of long ago; some enchantment seems to have held her mind. She is a myth and an idea, a dream and a vision, and yet very real and present and pervasive. There are terrifying glimpses of dark corridors which seem to lead back to primeval night, but also there is the fullness and warmth of the day about her. Shameful and repellent she is occasionally, perverse and obstinate, sometimes even a little hysteric, this lady with a past. But she is very lovable and none of her children can forget her wherever they go or whatever strange fate befalls them. For she is part of them in her greatness as well as her failings, and they are mirrored in those deep eyes of hers that have seen so much of life's passion and joy and folly and looked down into the wisdom's well. Each one of them is drawn to her, though perhaps each has a different reason for that attraction or can point to no reason at all, and each sees some different aspect of her many sided personality (Nehru, The Discovery of India)."

Enough of these Senas, Dals, and Jamaats...

Acts of vandalism, public harassment, assault-all in the name of what? morality? It seems almost everyday you wake up to fresh news of such acts committed by hooligans calling themselves moral police honchoed by those who themselves hold an extensive criminal record. The status quo has become a tit-for-tat game by a petty neighbor and exploitation of the word "secular" by hoodlums within the country. Secularism is becoming ostensible. The "secular India" that was born 60 years ago has become a mere cliché, or at least seems to be advancing towards becoming one. The masses are looking up to the government for immediate action to put an end to all this. The time for phrases like sochenge, dekhenge, vichar-vimarsh karenge has long passed. There is almost a desperate NEED (and I can't emphasize this word enough) for strict laws, swift trials and harsh punishment for those convicted. The government also needs to get strict with Pakistan or this will drag on for years to come. Why are we still running the samjhauta express service? Why haven't we put an end to imports from Pakistan? What the hell is going on in this country? Hello? Is anyone listening??

Unanswered questions...

I am repulsed by the thought of how the Brits treated us in our own country. How humiliating and exasperating that must have been. But at the same time I am stupefied as to why it took Indians such a long time to realize the atrocities and raise their voices against the self proclaimed landlords of this country? Is it because we try to adjust to anything and every situation- no matter how repulsive or unjustified? Why is it that we accept things the way they are and restrain ourselves from changing them? This ignorance is the "gap" that Nehru talks about in The Discovery of India. Referring to the Indian people he writes, "The people generally had grown apathetic and servile. There was thus a gap which had to be filled before any revolutionary change could take place. Perhaps this gap had been produced by the static nature of Indian society which refused to change in a changing world, for every civilization which resists change declines. That society, as constituted, had no more creative part to play. A change was overdue." We still seem to find bliss in the same ignorance. We might not be under the British rule anymore but are swayed by hard-boiled politics and apathetic politicians who threaten to consume us in their wild games. Why are we still not able to break out of the shell that binds us in many ways? What would it take to bring about a bigger and much needed change? Are we waiting for another revolution?

Some came, they saw and conquered. Others came, looted and went back. With them went away most of the wealth, and in a way the pride of our land. India has had a long history of tolerance, something which she still maintains. During the course of her 5000 years of history many invaders came to conquer her but became a part of her instead. Then there were those who were able to take advantage of this tolerance and took back a lot that did not belong to them. Unarguably, most of India was sucked dry of its wealth by the outsiders, and bled white until poverty and famine had enveloped what remained of her. Now that it's been 61 years since Independence, I wonder why the government isn't asking back for the "cultural property" of this land? There is a piece of India's legacy and pride still under the control of foreigners. Will we ever get it back?

Mumbai terror attacks: India will never forget

A thanksgiving break that was going to be utilized well as a study break turned out to be something that was far beyond imagination. On Wednesday morning I turned the tv on to catch up with some of the day's headlines. The breaking news (on NDTV) was that Mumbai was under attack, and it wasn't just those low intensity time bomb attacks that other Indian cities had endured throughout this year. This was much bigger, unprecedented and something that would be known as India's 9-11. As the reporters explained that terrorists had entered and shot many people inside some of Mumbai's most posh and luxurious hotels, and were holding many hostages, I knew it was going to turn out to be a very long day. Little did I know, that one long day was going to stretch into sixty very long and unforgettable hours.
As the news story unfolded in front of my eyes, I found out that the bloody rampage was carried out at multiple sites around the city -10 in all. Some of the early pictures showed the massacre at the Leopold cafe and the CST station which were merely a diversion for the authorities as the main targets were the Taj and Oberoi. They had come with the intention of causing maximum damage and to kill till the last breath. After killing a couple of the terrorists, arresting one and losing some of our own top officers, the attention of the nation turned to three major sites where these terrorists would wreak havoc for the next sixty hours-The Taj Mahal hotel, Oberoi and Nariman House where many people were held hostage.
Amongst the first ones to report were the local police authorities, the army, MARCOS (naval commandos), and RAF (rapid action force). As the authorities realized the severity of the situation, they also summoned the elite NSG (national security guard) commandos who are trained throughout the year for tackling situations like the one at hand.
The courageous men from the army, the commandos and the Mumbai police force fought with much bravery to save the lives of innocents caught up in the horrific ideology of these terrorists. These men carried out their duty well and some of them even laid their lives down in the process. After rescuing hundreds of hotel guests and staff members, they went in to confront the terrorists and only emerged after neutralizing every single one of them. Not to mention they saved Mumbai's most precious and iconic symbol-the Taj from being reduced to rubbles as planned by the millitants.
As for me, I was glued to the couch with my eyes on the television for the length of the entire operation. Switching back and forth between four news channels I tried to make sense of what was going on, and why it was happening. Somewhere in the middle of the operation, the whole thing started to look surreal. It seemed more like a bad movie with no end in sight. There were times when I felt bursts of anger and sadness. At times I wanted to yell out, how dare they! I wished I was there to help people somehow as those who did by donating blood and those who came together in this time of need and served refreshments to policemen and firemen working nonstop to save lives. While other times I just looked helplessly into the eyes of my clueless dog. In the final hours of the operation as a part of the Taj broke out in intense fire, tears welled up in my eyes.

India watched in horror as innocent lives were lost and as shameless, callous politicians played the blame game and used the tragedy as an opportunity to propagate themselves. We applaud and salute the martyrs who sacrificed their lives; the commandos, the police and army personnel, firemen, the hotel staff, and other civilians who acted valiantly in this time of terror.

Mr. Terrorist: I am alive. What more can you do?

Mr. Politician: I am alive despite you.

I am a Mumbaikar.

-a placard held by one of the persons at the Mumbai vigil

Sitaron se aage jahan aur bhi hain

Sitaron se aage jahan aur bhi hain
Abhi ishq ke imtehan aur bhi hain
Tahi zindagi se nahin ye fizayen
Yahan siakdon karwaan aur bhi hain
Khana’at na kar aalam-e-rang-o-bu par
Chaman aur bhi aashiyaan aur bhi hain
Agar kho gaya ek nasheman to kya ghum
Maqmat-e-aah-o-fughaan aur bhi hain
Tu shaheen hai parvwaaz hai kaam tera
Tere saamne aasmaan aur bhi hain
Isi roz-o-shab main ulajh kar na rah ja
Ke tere zameen par makaan aur bhi hain
Gaye din ke tanha tha main anjuman mein
Yahaan ab mere raazdaan aur bhi hain

Beyond the stars there are worlds more
Our quest yet has more tests to pass
This existence alone does not matter
There are boundless journeys more
Do not rest on what you have
There are paradises more to explore
Why worry if you have lost one abode
There are a million addresses to claim
You are the falcon, your passion is flight
And you have skies more to transcend
Lose not yourself in the cycle of days and nights
Within your reach are feats even more
Gone is the day when I was lonesome in the crowd
Today those who resonate my thoughts are more

Mohammed Iqbal
Naujawaan ke Naam, Bal-e-Jibraeel, 1908

Happy Independence Day

"At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance..... We end today a period of ill fortune, and India discovers herself again" - This is what Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru had said on India's most significant day.

Okk..here I go preaching again...bare with me as I need to get it out of my system...

They gave their lives without any indecision...
They raised their voices with righteous indignation...
Their sole purpose in life was to attain 'freedom'...
And they brought us our India in a palanquin- They were our freedom fighters. They had many aspirations for this country, for their country.
It's been 61 years and we have come a long way...or have we? Look beyond the glitzy malls, and the slums are bigger than ever. Look beyond the private schools for the elite, and we have underprivileged children working arduously just to make ends meet everyday. Look beyond the fake countenances of politicians and you will see charlatans in disguise. Look beyond the jazzy eateries and you will see impoverished, famished and emaciated individuals without a ration card, look beyond the female leaders, professionals and the glamorous babes of Bollywood and you'll see female foeticide.

We are in a funny, and contradictory position. Seems like we have achieved a lot and yet nothing. We took one step forward and two steps into the past. We would gain independence in true sense when we clear away our societal flaws. That is the 'freedom' we need to obtain as the upcoming generation; play our role as the offspring of those freedom fighters and give something back to our society. We are at it.... just need to keep on trying...harder.