MARTIAN BEAUTY

She must've come from Mars,

For she's out of this world,

Beyond this planet,

An alien with hazel eyes.

She must've come from Mars,

For she was so pretty,

So beautiful,

That she could never be human.

She must've come from Mars,

For her hazels had superpowers,

That mesmerised me completely,

Got me attracted like a magnet.

She must've come from Mars,

For she was unlike others,

Extra-terrestrially pretty,

She was a Martian beauty.

Who says there's no life on Mars?
Just look at her,

She is Life herself.

She is the beginning,

She is the end,

She is in my dreams,

She is in my head.

She's like a mermaid in water,

A hazel queen on land,

She's as white as snow,

She's a Martian beauty herself.

I love every atom of her,

Every single atom,

For it must be from Mars,

Because she's a Martian beauty herself.

THAT HAZEL PAIR

For ophthalmologists shall say that,

It is only the colour of your iris,

But only a poet shall tell you this:

That Hazel Pair,

Shines brighter than than Sirius,

Brighter than the brightest,

Brightest of all.

That Hazel Pair,
It entices me

To explore the realms of something,

Unknown to most humans.

That Hazel Pair,

It has a sparkle,
It has a twinkle,
It has its own lustre.

That Hazel Pair,

It is a puzzle,
Yet to be explored,
A treasure,yet to be unearthed.

That Hazel Pair,

It has a depth,

That even the most advanced SONAR,

Wouldn't be able to measure.

That Hazel Pair,
It lures me,
Into a dimension,
Unknown to all others.

That Hazel Pair,

It has an aura of anonymity,

A plethora of satisfaction,

Contentment...

That Hazel Pair,

Stands out from all others,
Blue,black,brown,green....
O!what are they but negligible in front of it.

That Hazel Pair,

It has a uniqueness,

It's own identity,
Unlike any other.

That Hazel Pair,
Its mere presence alone,

Pacifies me,
Quenches my thirst.

That Hazel Pair,

It has a voice,

A voice that nobody else can hear,
But only me.

That Hazel Pair,

When it squints,

Its shallowness,

Is what captivates me.

That Hazel Pair,

It is shallow and deep,

Calm and serene,

A recurring scene.

That Hazel Pair,

It's like the Pied Piper,
Musically mesmerising,
Shrewdly scintillating.

That Hazel Pair,

It's so prepossessing,

That it accentuates your beauty,

And sets the starer on fire.

That Hazel Pair,

Has the power to pause,

The whole wide world,

And send it into a trance.

That Hazel Pair,

Against the backdrop of white,
Looks newly polished,
Looks extra bright.

That Hazel Pair,

It's neither very red,

Nor is it very brown,

It's simply hazel,an amalgam of the two.

That Hazel Pair,

It crinkles when you smile,

But when it floods,

Something's sinisterly wrong.

That Hazel Pair,

Its breathtaking beauty,

Provides panacea,

To all the problems.

That Hazel Pair,

Neither has any beginning,
Nor any end,

For it extends from nullity to the infinite space beyond.

That Hazel Pair,

Has around it a thin haze;

A riddle,a complicated maze,

Making it difficult to avert my gaze.

That Hazel Pair,

It's so far,

Yet,I feel that it's so close,

That I'll extend my hand and 

touch it.

But,before I even try
That Hazel Pair

Vanishes,
Dissolves into the night,
Slips through my fingers
And I wake up,
Having a longing...
A desire for
That Hazel Pair,
To visit me again
That very night
And,make my dreams bright.

WHAT IS LIFE?

"What is life?",you say,

Life is but a way,
A path that one chooses,

No one knows right or wrong.

"What is life?",you say,

Life is but a struggle,

Come what may,

A battle against every odd.

"What is life?",you say,

Life is but problems,
Nay,problems interspersed with joy,
Amongst many other things.

"What is life?",you say,
Life is but a beautiful day,
At times sunny;at times rainy,

Yet most times;dull and overcast.

"What is life?",you demand,

Life is but to reprimand,

Others,
And reciprocate yourself.

"What is life?",you inquire,
Life is but fire,

Sadness is smoke,

The feelings that choke.

"What is life?",you wonder,
Life is but a blurry blunder,
You might not be able to see it clearly,

But ultimately you realise and regret.

"What is life?",you wonder,

Life is but lightening and thunder,

Followed by a downpour of sadness,

But ultimately a sunshine of happiness.

"What is life?",you brood,

Life is but directly proportional to your mood,
At times harsh;and

Most other times crude.

"What is life?",you contemplate,

Life is but a huge mistake,

Amidst people who are wrong and,

People who are fake.

"What is life?",you ask,

Life is but a mask,

A mask of artificiality,

A mask which people wear.

"What is life?",you ask,

Life is but a difficult task,

Something that can or cannot be done,

Depending on your own wills and inclinations.

"What is life?",you ask,

Life is but a book,

And every new day,
Is a fresh page...

"What is life?",you ask,

Life is but an abyss,

An abyss of sadness,sorrow,depression;

Overcome these and you are the happiest person.

"What is life?",you ask,

Life is but birth and death,

What have you brought into this world?

What will you take?

"What is life?",you ask again,

Life is but an incessant rain,

A rain of happiness and joy,

A shower of contentment and blessings.

"What is life?",you think,

Life is but a momentary blink,

Unexpected,

Unpredictable...

"What is life?",you think,

Life is but a connectionless link,

A link between nothingness and infinity,

Neither knows no bounds...

"What is life?",you sigh,

Life is but as irrational as pi,

3.141592653589793238462643383279...

Non-terminating,non-recurring,never ending...

EXPECTATIONS HURT

I was waiting near the bus-stop.My friend had not yet turned up.I was supposed to go to school with him today.In his car.

My cellphone rang.I picked it up."Hello,"I said.

"Yeah,hello...,"said my friend,"we'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay,"I said,"by the way,what's the colour of your car?"

"It's white,"he said and hung up.

"Five more minutes only,"I told myself.

The sky was growing dark.Somewhere in the distance,I heard thundering.It could rain at any moment now.I hoped that my friend would come to pick me soon.

Suddenly,I saw a white-coloured car in the distance.It was coming closer.Closer.I don't think that the car was travelling slowly,but I experienced the whole thing slo-mo.

"Skoda,"I almost screamed.

I had just realised that the car was a white-coloured Skoda Octavia.Could it be my friend's car? I felt excited at the mere thought of it.

The Skoda went past me.I simply looked on.It couldn't be my friend's car...

Apparently,I had asked my friend only the colour of his car.I hadn't asked him the name.

I heaved a tremendous sigh.

Soon,it started drizzling.As I like to get wet in the rain,I didn't make an effort to find any shelter.I simply stood over there.

I don't really know why,but at that moment I imagined myself as Aditya Roy Kapoor.I pretended that the song 'Tum Hi Ho' was being played in the background.I was completely soaked.Raindrops dripped from my face.It seemed almost like the scene from the movie 'Aashiqui 2',except for the fact that there was no Shraddha Kapoor around...

Another white car!

This time it was a Volkswagen."Wow!"I exclaimed.Those who were standing at the bus-stop looked at me,clearly astonished.

The Volkswagen zoomed past me just like the Skoda Octavia;except that,this time I found the lower half of my pant dripping with muddy water.The goddamn Volkswagen had done that.

Having learnt a lesson,I went and stood quietly under the shelter of the bus-stop.I wondered whether my friend would ever come.

Two or three cars and about a dozen scooters and bikes later,I saw another white car.Even as I was contemplating whether it could be my friend's car,the passenger's window of the white Maruti 800 rolled down and the freckled face of my friend was unmistakable.

"Hop in,"he said...

It was on that day that I learnt a really important lesson of my life:
Never expect anything.
Expectations hurt.

From that day onwards,I stopped expecting that somebody would come to pick me up in a Skoda or a Volkswagen;and I thanked my lucky stars that my friend had come in a Maruti 800 and not in a bullock-cart that was painted white!

CRUELTY

He slapped me hard across the face.I scowled at him.

"Only this much?" he asked and held up the money that I had given him.

I scowled again.I'd never had even the slightest respect for him.I hated him.I had to tolerate him everyday.He tortured me.But still,I had to put up with him.After looking at both of us,who would say that he was my father?

He is a drunkard.He beats me everyday for no reason at all.He has never earned a penny by himself,as far as I know.I earn and he spends it all on his useless alcohol.I work in a restaurant,he spends it in a bar.

But,things were different when Mother was alive.I am thirteen years old now.Mother passed away when I was seven.Back then,I used to go to school.Mother used to earn for the family.Even at that time,he drank liquor.I still remember how brutally he used to beat Mother.

Once,he hit her with a stick.She cried.She begged for mercy.He didn't let her go.He hit her again.And again.And again.He hit her repeatedly.Several times.After that thrashing,Mother never woke up.I cried beside her bed for hours.I told him to take her to the hospital.He did not listen.The next day,we came to know that Mother had died.The monster had killed her.I could do nothing but cry...helplessly.

Right from the next day,he told me to go and find some work.He burned all my books.He told me that I wouldn't go to school anymore.I was terrified.He didn't even have the slightest regret for what he had done.I wondered how heartless a person could get.

I started serving tea in a restaurant nearby.I still do the same job.He snatches away all the money that I earn.I eat the leftovers from the same restaurant that I work in.The owner is a nice fellow.

When Mother was alive,she had made me promise that I would never ever touch alcohol.I have kept that promise.

Mother was a really nice woman.This brute...this monster.He spoiled my life.

"Only this much?" he repeated.He waved the money in my face.His breath reeked of booze,as always.

I remained silent.He raised his hand to slap me.

A resounding crack filled the air.He had slapped me across the cheek again with brute force.I wondered if the neighbours would come to my rescue like they have done on so many other occasions.But,they did not.

Another slap.I couldn't contain myself any longer.Anger surged through me and erupted out just like lava erupts from a volcano.

"I earn.You have no right to spend it on your alcohol.It is my hard-earned money.You haven't earned a penny in your whole life.You killed Mother.Now,you're all set to murder me.Aren't you?"I said,angrily.

Those words seemed to have some effect on his mind.His expression softened.But,he didn't answer me.

Even monsters have a heart;although it is made of stone,they do have one.I could say that from his expression.

"You are never going to understand me,"I told him."You never understood Mother.You just want money for your alcohol.You will never let me live in peace.Never."

With that,I left the room and walked away.

How long would my life continue like this?Would I ever be emancipated from this bondage?Would I ever be free?

CAREER COUNSELLING

Choosing a right career is a very important decision that each and every person has to take in his or her life.Often children,especially teens,are heard saying that they want to become doctors,engineers,lawyers,sportsmen,sportswomen,business tycoons etc. in the future.

So,today I am going to focus on a profession that is abundant in India.Most children,if not all,do not wish to join this profession(which is not a bad thing,actually).Nevertheless,I would like to draw your attention to the advantages and disadvantages of this profession;the educational qualification required;and of course,the salary that this profession has got to offer.Now,let me tell you about those who have joined this profession.

You will see them almost everywhere you go.There is no shortage of them at all.Right from traffic signals,roads,pavements to temples,churches,mosques and public parks,gardens,railway stations;they are found everywhere.

Wondering who I am talking about? Well,I'm talking about those people who are found in almost every city of our country.Those,without whom our nation would be incomplete(or maybe not).Those,who bang the windows of your car whenever it stops at a red-light.If you haven't guessed it already,then let me tell you that I am talking about the beggars of our country.

And the profession that I am going to elaborate about is,obviously,begging.

Once you take to this profession,your kith and kin follow suit.Then,there is no looking back.The advantages of being a beggar are numerous.Here are some of them:
1.No investment is to be done.
2.All the money that you get is profit.
3.Other than cash,you also get paid in kind.
   e.g.leftovers,old and torn clothes,rags,blankets with holes etc.
4.You don't get constantly nagged by your boss.In fact,you,yourself are the boss.
5.People sympathise and pity you.
6.(Now,this is perhaps the most important advantage)
   You don't have to pay any kind of tax to anybody.

Now that we have seen the advantages,let us look at the disadvantages.
1.You lose your dignity and respect.
2.Most of the people ignore you and turn up their noses at you.
3.At times,the so-called 'salary' is quite low.
4.Mostly,you have to spend your life on pavements,roads etc.

Let us now look at the educational qualification that is required if one wants to become a beggar.
1.Good news!Good news!Good news!There is practically no educational qualification required if you aspire to become a beggar.Right from an IITian to a child who has failed in nursery school,anybody can beg for alms.There is no age limit,as well.

You may be deaf or dumb or blind or lame or all four simultaneously,but these conditions cannot occlude you in fulfilling your dream of becoming a beggar.As a matter-of-fact,differently abled beggars earn much more than those,whose body parts are in their right places.

According to your inclinations and wishes,you may become a full-time or a part-time beggar.

Always remember that a successful beggar is one who can win the sympathy of others by either fair or foul means.You may not be blind,but you can always close your eyes and pretend to be one.Only then will people notice your presence and give you some money.

Being a beggar is a laborious job.You have to put up with people who throw coins at you.They think you're a beggar(well,actually you are.But remember,you are a dignified beggar).Never pick up coins thrown at you(I mean,only in front of those who throw them.Show them that you've got just as much self-respect as they have.After they go,you can always pick them up.The coins aren't running away anywhere).

Now,we come to the most important aspect.The 'salary',of course.As I have already said somewhere,people donate in cash as well as in kind.So,you may not get money,but so long as you get two square meals it is perfectly fine.The turnover isn't much.But,that's okay.Isn't it?

For becoming a beggar,one does not need to have a good family background.All that one requires is will-power and courage.A strong belief in God is a must.You have to learn the art of emotionally blackmailing people in the name of God.I have never heard of atheist beggars...

Begging is an art not known to many.It is yet to be explored.So,how many of you are ready to roll in the mud,join this 'noble' profession and ask in the name of God?

ATM-Aunt,Train and Music

Well,my aunt had promised that she would show me 'The Gateway of India' the next time I came to her house in Mumbai.Unfortunately,I reminded my aunt about her promise.The next thing I knew,I was in a Mumbai local with my aunt.

Now,if you've ever travelled by a Mumbai local,then you'll surely understand my problem.Even before the train arrived,many people were already waiting on the platform.

"Surely,so many people will not board the same train,"I told myself.As it turned out,I was wrong.

I was standing on the platform.In the distance,I saw the local curving like a serpent and coming towards us.It slowed down to a crawl.Even before it had stopped completely,people who were on the train started disembarking.All the people who were on the platform started to get on the train.I stood rooted to the spot,wondering how so many people would embark the same train.The doors of the train were so narrow that only two or three people could get through it,simultaneously.According to my estimations,there were hundreds of people,if not thousands,who had been waiting for this local on the platform.I was dumbstruck.

"Quick.Get on the train,"said my aunt and shoved me from behind.That cut me short from my reverie.I stumbled and miraculously,landed in the train,somehow.

As soon as I set foot in the train,it started moving.Soon,my aunt got on the moving train.The train had hardly stopped for a minute at the station.

"We are used to it,"she told me.I nodded.

"What did you think? We were going to see 'The Gateway of India' in a limousine?"my aunt asked me and chuckled.

Before I could even answer,she said,"we are travelling in a mode of transport that is ten times longer than a limo."

"And a hundred times more crowded,"I wanted to say but,instead,thought the better of it and decided to keep my mouth shut.

I glanced out of the door of the train.All the people who had been standing on the platform were now inside the train.It was amazing how so many people had entered the train within a minute.

Many men were hanging from the door of the train.They seemed to be enjoying the effect of the cool breeze on their faces.Some were holding on to the pole that stood near the door of the train and appeared to be doing some sort of weird pole-dance!

Mumbai locals are dangerously over-crowded,especially on weekdays.As a matter of fact,a large number of people perish after being bludgeoned by track-side poles while hanging out of overcrowded trains or electrocuted by power cables when they sit on the roof of the train.

I turned my attention inside the train now.As expected,there were no vacant seats.All the seats had already been occupied.We would have to spend the better part of our journey standing.But,believe me,there wasn't enough place even for standing.Just like us,most people did not have a seat and were standing.I'd heard that the Mumbai Suburban Railway had the highest passenger density of any urban railway system in the world.But now,I'd experienced it.

Now,even in such crammed places,only one thing comes to my rescue.My earphones,of course.I carry them along with me,no matter where I go.

So,standing in a compartment with more than a hundred people surrounding me,I took my earphones out of my pocket with a little difficulty.The coach was awfully crowded.I plugged in my earphones.Then,I hit the 'Play' button on my I-Pod and started enjoying the music.

My favourite band,Linkin Park,started off with its song 'Bleed it Out'.

Yeah,here we go for the hundredth time
Hand grenade pins in every line
Throw 'em up and let something shine
Going out of my fuckin' mind...

Out of old habit,I started whistling to the song.Soon,I realized that two or three women who were standing in the compartment,were staring at me.Before they could have wrong notions,I stopped whistling.

Instead,I started humming and tapped my feet in the little place that was available on the floor.

I bleed it out,digging deeper
Just to throw it away.
I bleed it out,digging deeper
Just to throw it away.
I bleed it out,digging deeper
Just to throw it away.
Just to throw it away.
Just to throw it away.
I bleed it out.

I was enjoying myself very much now.

I've Opened up these SCARS,
I'll MAKE YOU FACE THIS,
I've PULLED MYSELF SO FAR,
I'LL MAAKE...YOOUU...FAACE...THIISS...NOOWWW!!!

Now,almost all the people in the coach were staring at me.Clearly,my humming had turned to shouting.Let me tell you very frankly,that I am no good at singing.So,I flushed and removed the earphones from my ears.

"I've never understood why these people shout so much,"said my aunt."As if there isn't enough of shouting and screaming inside the train already.What's the need for more?"

"It's rock music,"I told her.

"They scream and shout so much and finally call it music?"

"It's absolutely cool."

"They speak so quickly and expect us to understand it?"

"That's rap.It's fun."

"As if there isn't enough of it in India already..."my aunt said.

I wondered if she had confused 'rap' with 'rape'.Finally,I decided not to ask her.

"Oh!Forget it,"I said.

The train had stopped at a station.I simply plugged in my earphones and started singing again...