Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Friday, May 31, 2013

Who are We? Where are we going?

P.S. - I don’t know philosophy.

I shall be turning 25 and the world still amazes me. Well, the amazement lies neither in the underwater fauna nor some outer-world asteroids. It rests in basic things that human beings do. The way people decide, prioritize and act. The reader here might be a 17 year old high school graduate waiting for his results or a 31 year old boy/girl waiting to get married. The sample may also include a 48 year old cashier sitting in his office or a 24 year old girl who recently married somebody she never knew.

If we could know who are we?
Who are we?

I still look avenues beyond truth and capability in finding myself. I failed. The question haunts me like a somnambulist who haunts his own peaceful nights in oblivion. Most of us don’t know what we were meant to be in this world. We were born and that followed a list of random tasks that dented us into what others wanted us to be. Hard Fact. So, who are we? Are we the ones who run after money and keep wasting our best years of time? Or, the ones who are ready to die to go viral on the social network? Or, the ones who carry their family bastion and roll the family silver in grass and hash? Or, the regular managers who give their subordinates their peace of mind? Or, the naive job-seeker who did everything that the world spelt correct to get employed? Or, an individual caged in an iconic buildings waiting for attention? Or, an upcoming artist (photographer, writer, band-member etc) waiting for the big break? AND, the ones who are still in the journey to know who are we?

It may be a boring set of questions and there may be a striking chance that it would not have covered all samples of personalities or would have matched the reader’s current situation. But the answer to all the questions is same and unknown. 
The tryst between existence and purpose remains unattended unsolved and gets complicated as times pass, days go and years change.
Are we heading anywhere?
Where are we going?

Today, we live in a world of jobless growth and unprecedented polarity. The 80-20 rule is now no more applicable when I talk about the financial polarity. By now we don’t know our identity so it is difficult to say where we would be heading to. But as human beings we are well known among ourselves to figure out the solutions to problems of unimaginable complexity. The television sets keep on flashing so called ‘News’ depicting money laundering, corruption, rapes, success stories (rarely), murder stories and so on. For regular people like most of us, it gives a view to the daily course of events happening around or with us. So are we going in the direction of a humane less future? This isn't being negative in any aspects, rather it is being practical in all aspects. And lets not forget the vices that the media misses to report. The daily pressures that we meet in our lives related to success, work, marriage, money and sustenance. This makes me feel like a blind traveler hoping to feel the breeze that blows around the Seven Wonders of the World.

So, Who are we AND Where are we going?

Are we The Angry Birds?
They say there is a thin line between existence and living. We might not be knowing our identity and our reason to exist but we know one thing in our lives better than what others tell us. We very well know that what we are doing! And if most of the things we do doesn't make us happy. It gets us money though that helps us doing some of the stuff that creates an illusionary happiness. 
The ways to be successful and the ways to be satisfied never meet and everyday we tend to drift from the latter.

What are we doing?

We are all searching things that make us happy. We try to make ourselves available around people and places that we think can make us happier - knowingly or unknowingly. And in this quest, we tend to lose the major chunk of time that result in unhappiness. Strange and True. We tend to keep items of materialistic values like gadgets, cosmetic items, and travel badges and so on around us to keep that illusionary happiness alive. I often see people doing secretive stuff that may range from keeping hobbies to scoring flings. Secrets keep us grounded. But still the question stands tall. We actually don’t know what are we doing and tend to do stuff that majority of human looking creatures around us do. Some tend to go a step further when they lose their integrity and intellect while coping with ‘people’ around them. 
Most of the times we keep ourselves busy in filling the gaps of the past. The gaps may be enlisted as a failed relationship, a broken dream or a mounting loan (for car, degrees etc.) 
We all are now turning into instruments of searching things that make us stand out from the others. In due course of events, we are losing wisdom to the search engines available and tend to believe them as messengers of God (whose existence is still doubted).

I read a book titled ‘Into the Wild’ by Jon Krakauer. It is a story about a boy who tries to know the reason behind his existence and dies in the end. Many of you might have read the book or would have watched the movie. Try and get connected with your own selves instead of getting connected with the whole world on the go...!

“If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed"
- Into the Wild, Jon Krakaeur.

 Amit Purohit
 The Lone Soldier
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Thursday, November 8, 2012

Little Do I...


Little do I move ahead…
                On the ways I had wished…
As the seasons blink…
                Little do I grow on the sands I stood…
Little do the clouds move in the sky…
                When the Sun ponders over its daily plan…
Little do I sing these days…
                The Songs of Summer and Spring…
The keys of my piano remain silent…
                So do I; Often the clock kicks me awake…
Little do I follow…
                The footsteps of Destiny and Time…
Keeping and Falling things in place…
                Little do I follow my life and its pace…!

 Time has its own magical pace that plays an instrumental role in human life. Be it pacifying some emotions or altering one’s plans.  Everyone keeps speeding up day in and day out to match the so called inimical pace by garnering land or paper rockets and balls (Read: Degrees & Currency Notes). Let me take some time out, take a pause for some unknown cause and let me be oblivion of any such apocryphal pace and see what was left and what more could suffice…!!!

Amit Purohit
The Lone Soldier

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Monday, April 16, 2012

The Cuckoo Behind The Kolaveri...


12th Apr, 2012
3:35 pm, Somewhere On Earth.

Very few of my friends have heard the song ‘Guncha’ by Mohit Chauhan. Guncha means a young flower. The most fascinating lines of the song go like this:

“Subh ko teri Zulf ne sham kar dia,
Guncha koi mere naam kar dia…!’’

                And I dipped into my favorite arena where my pen did the talking. Pondering over the thought of writing a book woven with words around women, I felt I had now walked the talk with enough women in my life and their depiction of emotions. I was wrong, point blank.

                Allow me to tell you an open ended story of a girl I met and was startled.

                She was 26, MBA. She had a CAT percentile I could dream of and a persona I was jealous of. She landed and ditched one of the finest corporate jobs which people like me deem of. But things weren’t rosy as I thought of.
                She was working for nuts but for a cause by means of which she drove her life. And when inquired about why the ‘fish’ she worked for nuts; she smiled with an uncertainty at the back drop of her cerebellum. Being the ‘local’ Sherlock by nature, I was curious with some questions and the day occurred when the sun rose and her answers came searching my questions.
                And like any other Cindrella, the story stalked and sauntered around marriage – the lexis behind her uncertain smile she showcased, sitting near to the beautiful coffee cups she was fond of. Scores of questions rambled her mind about ‘the one’ and started driving her life. And I was surprised again…
                This time, I was surprised by the feminine psychology of considering ‘the one’ as the center of her earth. I watched her about and by now almost a 24-hour office day stamping documents with a smile incomplete in its own sense. The smile that carried pain of a broken song or the panicky of her parent’s toil of finding ‘the one’. For ‘the one’ and with the uncertainties tied to him she worked for nuts instead of diamonds.
                What was more! Adding more struggle to the smile was the debris of a musical dream that never shaped out of her parental pressure. As this ink flows on this paper and turns into blatant hieroglyphics; a day passes in the life of an individual getting the pangs of being alone and clearing the misty air of not so certain things tied with and for a stranger.
                A dream stifled like a soda bottle welded with the cork. Blueprints of a business, a career remains on paper in her minds; somewhere buried. I had never thought of weaving my life and its winged dreams for anyone. And she was living it, staking and sauntering her gold clad MBA for the unknown waiting, hoping to meet the next door.
When I see her I think of a flower vase with dried roses yet fresh leaves…!
When I see her I think of someone breathing for clouds that change shapes daily…!
I hear a sunken song that was never written; but a singer composed it for life…!

“Aankho ke jazeero ko tere naam kar dia,
Guncha koi mere naam kar dia…!’’

Amit Purohit
The Lone Soldier

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Friday, February 17, 2012

Clearance Ki Kahaani...Balls to 'Sayonara'


Characters:

GET : X (Graduate Engineering Trainee Resigning as Senior Project Executive)
Manager Y (Eating, Doing Nothing and managing GET X)
HR Z (Helpless Rascal @ the Human Resource)
Note: Trying to avoid being harsh
Warning: No resemblance with real world. If you find any, have beer and chill because none gets to bother.

16 Jan 2012

It was the 89th day of the three month notice period at a company called Lallu & Tappu Ltd (La&Ta). My brain was bleeding as I was the only one around going home instead of going to some MNCs who pay like pigs. And adding pressure to the pumping blood was the Manager Y who was not clearing off my handover dues. Actually speaking, he didn’t know what I was handing over as he never worked till it came to brim.
The HR Z was any other person who was least bothered who was leaving; knowing the reasons might be his dream job that he used to actually do while snoring at 2 pm after the hefty lunch.
I was to leave at 17th Jan and it was already 4:30 pm. It was getting tougher to nail Manager Y.
He only had to tick on a clearance form in his mail and like any day he wasn’t bothered when it came to work.

10 minutes of Creative Planning by GET X passed by.

To Retaliate Is Human Nature...
Manager Y: So why are you exactly leaving?
GET X: Does it make sense on the 89th day of my 3 month notice period?
Manager Y (Stunned): What does it mean when you question a query?
GET X: It means I am not interested to entertain the query and the beholder.
Manager Y: Tell me which company are you joining?
GET X: I am getting out of this company business. It adds no value to my thoughts.
Manager Y: The world is small. We will be informed where you are heading.
GET X: Please clear off my dues, just by clicking a simple icon in your mail box.
Manager Y: No, I won’t till you let me know.

Nonsense heated argument follows.
GET X watches the clock. It was 4:50 pm. He knew Manager Y will run to the punching machine at 5:15 pm and drive home. At 5 pm all he wanted the subsidized tea offered at the labor canteen.
He wanted the tick as it was HR Z’s turn tomorrow.

Manager Y (provoking): He will be a Master (professor in derogatory sense) one day and then he thinks he can add value to his thoughts.
GET X (keeping his cool): Sir G, its 4:55 pm. (Actually the clock showed 5 pm). I am going for tea.
Manager Y: Oh! Where I have to tick for clearing your dues?
GET X (thinking prey had come to daddy): Here, over here sir…
Manager Y: Is there any provision for partial clearance?

Manager Y actually didn’t know what he was handling and still he wanted GET X to be trapped.

GET X: Sir G, its 5 pm (Clock actually showing 5:15 pm) we will miss the tea.
Manager Y: Here is the password of my mail box. Get it done.
GET X: (enters the password like a ninja): Click..! Bang you go…!!
Manager Y: Let’s go to tea.
GET X: Its 5:18pm.
Manager Y (Astonished): What?
GET X: So you finally come to know that is the way you get to work…! Good Bye.
Manager Y:  (Now knew the trick) If you wish you can share your personal contact details.
GET X: Good Bye.

17 Jan 2012.

HR Z: Have you ticked all departments in the form?
HR Z never knew what kind of intellectual capital the company had and the least he knew about the loss to company when most of them were leaving the company.
GET X: Yes
HR Z: Get your dues cleared by the Finance department know.
The official time to leave was 5 pm. But as I had received clearance from all departments I could have been relieved earlier. Every one applied Murphy’s Law.
I requested HR Z to relieve me by 3 pm. I asked him to at least hand over my documents against the I-card I had submitted. He said a cold NO.
He did every procedural works at 5 pm. I kicked the door.

17 Feb 2012

I am still waiting for my salary. Manager Y wants me back.
I got my clearance done over a Rs.3/- tea.
I left love and opened the doors of uncertainty in my life…!!!


 Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier

Monday, October 11, 2010

Let Me Be Myself...

Let me be…

Let me live the way I can…
And let my dreams swell insane
Late night coffee sips and mental drifts…
Some lights; loud sounds; my table mundane
Let me love the way I can…
Cozy afternoons dripping in rain
My old scooter and the feather touch…
Rolling eyes; Ice creams; walking the deserted walk ways...
Let me lead to love the way I can…
Living apart with the pain all slain
The soul striving harder to the roads…
All lost; found and lost again
Let me dream the way I can…
Piercing the clouds;
Prickling the skies…
And picking the stars once again
Let me die the way I can…
Let it be magnificent the way it can
And let these words be the epitaph…
Let the world wait to see me again…!

Surat, 11:57 pm

It is raining! Often I write at the end of my odes something about my mental stance that made me to write the ode. But this time I am running out of words. I actually don’t know what made me pen this. Is it the directionless way of living or the well crafted foreseen failure I fear, I deem…

It is time to hear my favorite track from the film ‘Udaan’. It’s called Azaadiyaan…!

Let me set myself free…!

Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier
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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Life has come too far...



My mind has been monotone these days as blunt and plain as a spread sheet I just saved and mailed to my boss. I planned to write an article about love; life and dreams. I ended up writing some poetry over it. Life has been changing all the times. It became evident to me when I found some old friend’s mail in my so called professional mail box. Life has come too far and changes undergone are too swift to be felt. The hustle and bustle of traffic around just seems to swell as days pass. The rivers either go dry or ruin every nook and cranny coming their way. People around me change before I switch between my SAP windows. The red color meant love before and now it signals some sort of delay in some junk of my project. The gliders I see today never kick me to be a pilot as it did when I was 5. Love too succumbed to the pace of life. The black berries are bitter than the cherries I used to relish on. The money in my salary a/c gives me a kick of joy for some seconds. But the pangs are endless when I see my neighbor making his son do geometry and trigonometry.

Life has really come too far. Some set of rules and an alien feeling of getting freed tends to be apocryphal all the time. The loop is set and we are in. Mice are ready; Cats keep chasing. Money and expectations go with the same nick. The only thing that remained the same is my old radio. It is playing now a track from Dev D:

‘kudrat muskurati hai meri nadani pe; Sarghoshi khud se karti hu main herani mein…!’

I deem of an article in motion…!

Life has come too far…
With memories to cherish and money at par
The old photographs make me cry
I used to sit next to her; no matter the teachers pass by
My old algebra textbook and the Shakespearean plays
Life shaped as spreadsheets with formulae at play
Those changing clouds and honey bees sting
With butterflies around; Ringa Ringa roses sing…
Dreams dwell as I see the glider go…
My pants all wet as I find the only coin in muddy row
My father’s fingers; my sister’s palm
And I miss my mother’s warmth…
Life became a station; trains come and pass
Tickets cost me more as I go far
Table clocks; Presentations; Mail boxes
Schedules; Bosses and some more taxes
Cheque Books; Wallets; Blackberries
Travel; Itinerary and some sundries
Love was on the way to loss
With the salary slip shooting beyond no cause…
Time kept running; Dreams keep playing
People keep moving; The smoke does the chewing…!

Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier
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Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Beautiful Heart

The Beautiful Heart

1-September-2010
10 pm

It has been more than a month since I had spelt something. I faced writer’s block. But the vista of yesterday’s night inspired me to pen again. She was with me in a train’s compartment. Her broken leg still gave her jitters. We remembered the day when she met an accident. It was raining outside. Surat was on the verge of one of the deadliest floods the city ever witnessed. Her face rested on my thigh. My fingers roved around her forehead. I could feel the war her mind was going through. We were in pain. Inevitable; cold and eternal. The stormy rain drops peeped into the windows of the train. It was cold. The rain drops could not wet the already wetted couple in love. We never knew where we were heading; we had a feeling of togetherness that made the journey clumsier. She tried to close her eyes. The confused beholders of love were helpless. Time twisted their tale of love. Dreams ruined it often. Commitments slaughtered it. The train stopped. We departed. The rains and tears could define the feelings well. The lines of ‘The Beautiful Heart’ were imprinted in my mind. And the happiness linked with every creation of mine was replaced. The rains were in full swing. She stepped back. He looked into her eyes. The cacophony of the station turned mute. Time stood still. People paused. We kissed…!

There were times when she was far…

And I alone with my life at war
She cried and was lost in pain…
When I saw the sunny day and the blunt rain
The day when my shadow looked alien…
And tried to touch her; insane
I could hear the winds blowing…
But failed hearing her scream
The boisterous horns and the shining stars…
Made me think the glaring tear on her arm
The blond rain and the seas’ summon…
Rest is lost; the days pass; the nights inhuman
True love went to flames often…
Cherishes a moment; perishes sudden
Life has answers the more does it question…
Dreams keep rolling; Time ruins often...!

Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier
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Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Love, Honor And Killing.

Love; Honor And Killing


12th July, 2010


A famous newspaper quoted: “If you find something wrong with a newly married couple don’t go for the police go for the Khaps…!”

The TV screens flashed killings of some young couple in the northern parts of my wonderful country, India. I very well know the name of the place; the lobby of people and the date, time and reason when the killings happened. But I don’t wish to mention all here. This is because the sentiments I wish to talk upon I guess is paramount. The media did it the most idiotic way they could with the word honor in bold and red. I turned off the tube. Two of my female friends were confused over honor and mercy killing. I smiled out of a stifle. We need to react and generate awareness on such burning societal issues and the so called young feminine India boasting of ruling corporate and begging all the way for reservation in every nook and cranny of the system was confused. Mercy and Honor. My heart pumped lava instead of blood thinking of the visuals related to the incident. People were doing what human kind and its creator can’t deem of.


Two souls fall in love. They are not of the same caste. Some people in white turbans behave like courts and issue life sentence for the love birds. The so called youth of India executes it. The brutal the execution the more is the pride carried off. The news keeps coming in newspapers. They talk of the northern part of this country. I feel safer in Gujarat. Love is merrier here. And the day I think of this the page 5 of a leading newspaper tells me of a case of honor killing in Surat – where I earn money. Sometimes I think the proactive media has made us notice vices like honor killing these days. Love is ancient and so honor killing would be! Honor, I seem to be in such cases of killing is a mental block. The word mirage would rather suit such notion rather than a mind’s block. The situation goes pathetic when the couple marries against family’s will and remains alive. You read it correct. The situation gets worse as they tackle the tide their home all alone just because they decided to live life at their own terms. Their parents feel like they had been murdered. Casteism was an old man’s thought and now the same is killing his successors.


The Sunset Time


With all these emotions roving and raving in my mind, I thought of taking a break and watching some music videos. And some anchor was interviewing the local police commissioner over the couple’s murder who sought police protection a week ago in the same news room. I thought education has cleansed the minds of my country’s people. I am wrong. Religion and Honor are Everest sized mental blocks of people and people can’t see the sunshine beyond it. It reminded me of the ‘Sania-Shoaib’ marriage episode which followed nasty SMSes, Facebook status and tangy tweets. People just can’t accept the fact and carry life on.


Love is godly. They say it is beyond boundaries and borders. It is because of love we breathe and feel our existence. Killing love and its beholders in the name of honor is itself questioning love’s existence on this planet. This ultimately makes me think of our existence and extinction. We are against the emotion which binds us all. And the worst part is we count on it as our token to unravel our geographic and economic problems.

Sad is the story that all is happening in a country where romantic films run for 25 years at a stretch and the countrymen there kill those who are the real inspiration behind such immortal stories…!

Let me love without the honor part of it; I will be breathing in the end…!
Give me freedom!

Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier.
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Sunday, July 11, 2010

Love Is Far...

Love Is Far


8th July, 2010 1:30 pm.

Jammnagar Inter City Express

                  I boarded the train to Ahmedabad from Surat. It was raining hard. I was irritated. The train passed over the rivers and plains. The effect of the rain comes to life when you see it from a river side. You can feel the rain falling from the dark clouds. The winds trying to show its might and ruining the clouds while the river enjoying each droplet kissing its soul. The dry plains went wet in a minute as the rain unpacked its arms over the orb. I felt the sky’s love for earth. I thought of my love which was far and life had travelled miles. Life was too far to let me excise my control over it. The war seemed to be endless. The destinations in life seemed like a carrot hanging in front of my face which moved with the pace I walked. The world seemed like a spinning top with I at one of its edges giving my fortunes away…!

Love was far…
Life was away…
His God too vague…
To enlighten his way…
The rain and its droplets…
Wetted his soul all the time…
And the pain from the heavens…
Questioned his existence every now and then…
The seas of happiness died the way they can…
And the salty sand ruined the merry plains…
The dark rainbow;
Darker the sunshine…
Those praying hands and rolling chants…
All lost in the winding ways…
Love is still far…
Life is still way…
What mattered in the end was his luck…
This too parted the thorny ways…!

Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier
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Sunday, July 4, 2010

My Old School

MY OLD SCHOOL


                                    We all love our alma mater. Isn’t it? And even some one who is left and lost in our alma mater. It may/can be our first love/infatuation. This ode is all about those mesmerizing thoughts of my old school. The blurred memories of the first day of my school are still in this engineering mind. Every one of my porpoises wept, but it was I who confronted the school gate with a smile on my face. I was fervent to learn the ABCs. The origin of the arduous feeling was to read those fancy advertising boards all round. I still remember the hand that kindled me with the knowledge of English and Mathematics. I was weak in performing subtraction, but my Mathematics teacher was no naïveté. She tried hard to imbibe her knowledge in me. The steps of my old school were not leveled properly. We always slipped to one or two of them and ended with a bruise on our knees. Still our peon personified that the faller is the real winner as he/she learnt a lesson every time he/she falls. There was a boy in our class who once rang the school bell exactly 5 minutes before the lunch break. It was the time of our academic era when we were neophytes in looking at watches. Lastly, I only miss the angel seated on the second bench of the girls’ row. Whenever I roll the cavalcade of time I always end it with this rosy chapter of my verve. We were good friends and I used to guide her in Algebra and Geometry. However I was a novice in the calculative crusade still I managed to challenge the tide. I am still in juxtaposition rendering the fact that was it my love or infatuation…?!?

There lies my old school where
I learnt my ABCs
There lies my class where
I learnt those tongue tizzies
My teacher taught me
To subtract and to add
To read and to write
To face problems with glad
Those cozy class rooms
That became the place to gloom
When the exams surround
With the chilled supervision around
There lie my school steps
That taught me never to regret
Even when you fall in a bet
As the faller is destined to get
There lies the ringing bell
That we use to bell
Always a minute before the recess
To get that extra minute in excess
Finally we come across the row
Where I met my first lady love
We used to rhyme this bow:
To be together in any flaw...!
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