Sunday, 30 November 2008

SOUL OF MUMBAI

 

 

The calm water swallowed quietly

The 26th sun of a cool November

As every soul went on its way,

Some to work, some to slumber.

 

A shattering sound startled a city,

Whose worst nightmare was from ninety three

An attack of proportions massive at hand

And an infamous history begins in me.

 

I am the soul of the broken glass

Which spills its heart on Leopold’s door

I once housed the simmering evenings warm

Till I got bathed in a bloody downpour

 

I am the glitter of the chandelier’s smile

Which once hung proud in the Oberoi

Till I was reduced to a silent audience

To a massacre meted out by but a young boy

 

I am the soft drape of the Trident’s walls

Which drowned the sound of innocent screams

I watched the red spill, on me and around

My lifelong memories will be bloody dreams

 

I am the broken wall of the Nariman house

Who housed a crowd of unarmed rabbis

What cowards called an act of bravado

I heard it in little Mosche’s cries

 

I am the soul of a grand old crown

Whose name was apt as the Majestic Taj

I have seen the worst and best of history’s games

From the riots to times of the British Raj

 

In my womb are hidden, an evil lot

Whose soul is be-devilled and minds benumb

I stand through fire, and smoke and shakes

And listen to screams fade into a dying hum

 

I am the heartbeat, of a soldier’s breath

Which screamed in fear amidst concrete courage

I screamed to run at every bullet’s burst

Yet I fought, fuelled by an innocent rage

The murders are fuelled by an insane wrath

And the leaders watch, from a cowardly shell

Hundreds die and as many more fight to live

In this place called home, within a living hell.

 

Yet my hope rises, as the sunrise comes

And brings new dawn to an angry nation

People unite, one voice cries loud

Enough is Enough, I want salvation

 

Forever have I been tormented thus,

Raped and left, yet refusing to die

I am the screaming anger of 60 hours

I am the surviving soul of Mumbai

Tuesday, 17 June 2008

First days at Training

Okay....

So I am in land of the Goths..

Once ruled by seriously unusual guys who thought long hair in pigtails was cool, and who made really tough rulers..
One thing about the Germans that will grab you at first sight is...Their Discipline...

So I am about to be trained by them, and i reckon, i should be on time right??

So for a 8 am arrival at office, i wake up at 6-15 or so.

And on the way i get to know, that you can come to the office anytime between 7:15 and 8:30 am.

So much for my attempt at ON-THE-DOT-PUNCTUALITY.. I really thought i would be there at 8 sharp when the cuckoo clock at the main entrance went DING DONG...
Firstly, there was no such thing as 8 Sharp....secondly, they dint have a cuckoo clock either..

Double Dhoka !!!

Well, i walk into the office, just a bit hesistant before opening the door to the Admin section..
And inside, half the workstations are empty...

Phir Dhoka !!!....

And I walk in and its just 2 ladies whom i know among the lot.. Ladies whom i had spoken to before on phone from Dubai...Friendly ladies though...
One was named Raveena and the other was named Shabana.. (names changed to hide the identity of the nice ladies)
Shabana is like this newly married lady...looks like a rock-star with a piercing through her eyebrow..

Raveena is this sweety lady in her mid 30s.. With a smile on her face whenever she sees you..Awww..

After the usual Hi, hello....i reached a blank in the conversation....Ever had the feeling there is an uneasy silence between u and the people in front of you..and you are expecting to say something..
It doesnt help if the person in front of you is giving you a sugary smile...Oh man...!!! And your brain is saying...SAY SOMETHING...and all you can come up with is...."SO, HOW ARE U???"
And then u realise thats the 3rd time you asked her that.

CRAPPPP !!!!....and you wish that a train crashes through the wall and takes you away on its windshield..

And she smiles and replies for the 3rd time....I AM GOOD...HOW ARE YOU....?? And you reply the third time too....OH YES I AM GOOD.....

ON SECOND THOUGHT....MAKE IT A SUPER FAST TRAIN..!!!


And then, i am standing there, hoping that someone asks me to sit, and they look at me and smile....
I think now i realise what an Elephant feels like in the Zoo...under the gleeful faces of the visiting audience....
Nevertheless, thanks to god i get a workstation to myself, which actually belongs to a girl who is at school today...(She works and studies alternate days....Germans start early - WOW)

So well, I started work, had a bit of catching up on my mails...(45 Unread ones--- Man the business world is so jobless)
And Shabana walks up to me and says..>Want me to help you with ABCD...(tats a software which we use for customer references....named changed to protect the software's identity)
And i say...thanks Shabbu but I got a bit of work, i'll clear it and then i'll listen to you blab about this software (of course not exactly the way i said it...but close)....
And shabbu smiled and waved her blond hair and left....

First thought that came to my mind was....SHE LOOKS SOOO DAMN DIFF FROM HER PIC...(yeah she had sent her wedding pic to the whole company...) But then i figured...All girls look prettiest on their wedding days....thats why they're glowing in white...
And all guys.....Well .... Black has always been the colour of mourning....;)

And then as I am going through the usual work, A Man walks in....blond, 6 feet, and in formal shirt, trousers, and Puma sports shoes....

wait a minute....Whats with the shoes??? Well, i guess he has to "run" from one meeting to another....
Lets call him Metallica....coz he looks like James Hetfield From Metallica...And he was really a nice guy....I could tell by the fact that he was immediately casual and asked me to shoot all questions and he would help me learn everything I had to over my training...I was really tempted to ask about the Puma shoes....but then....I didnt want one of the shoes in my face...so left it..

The rest of the day passed nervously....because i was seeing all new faces....and something about these guys and ladies....they're too polite....every one walking by me in the hallway would smile and say...HEY !!... HI !!....HELLOO !!!....i mean...wow...

coming from a place like Dubai where you see an eccentric arab or an indian or pakistani or bangladeshi on the road and your lucky if you get away with silence...coz he's had a rough day,and unfortunately he will hold you responsible for it and u will have a finger shown to you
or some mother tongue curses thrown with smiles at you....

This place was Wayyyy toooo different....

Later something my didi told me made me wonder...There is a reason why these guys are successful.. In most of the spheres of success.... Its their attitudes towards the people around them...

I guess Success stays best with the person who doesnt behave like he's got it....

Kewl !!!

And then i met many others....Raghu The Special design guy, Tabrez and Chandar the construction design guys and a few ladies....It was really nice...

My laptop was then taken for a CT Scan...coz i wanted to connect to the resident network..
So Raveena takes me to the IT Department...

Surprisingly, i was kinda anxious to meet these guys...I dunno why...but i felt, man, an IT department without an Indian must be one hell of a sight...And guess what....the location of these guys was AMAZING...

They were given a state of the art place...clean and big....................... In the Basement !!!!!!

OMG it took me a lot to hide the smirk on my face....Okay so they are geeks (techno term for brains behind the whole virtual office), but they were kinda thrown into the abyss.... Next to the cafeteria...which for some strange reason, smelt like Masala Poppadums to me...

They took my laptop and said....Okkkk, weeee vill scan it for infection....I was like...Uh Oh !!...I hope they do not open my pictures directory....no no...no such thing to hide...but i m not entirely comfortable with showing the germans the pics of Robert sleeping in his volleyball shorts, and Raju cutting onions...(names as usual changed to protect the identity of my roommates)

So i handed my laptop to a guy...who looked like those German Secret Service guys you see in cheesy american movies....all he lacked was a tight black suit and a Black Audi....I almost expected him to say...."Pleaz show me yore Eye Dee Carz (I.D. Card) "
But he didnt know english...And the head of the department comes to join us....Dharam...(he looked so much like the Jat Superstar).... After the usual pleasantries, he told me....we will just check your laptop for virusess, we dont want our system infected...(duhh...i wasnt specially keen on having the entire organisation fall because of a silly trojan from the Mp3 Downloading site) So i said...yeahh...please do...

Thankfully i later found out that Dharam and Secret Service dude found my system clean...not to mention they have put in a chip which helps me to access official programs...(Hmmmm !!)

Nice guys though.... Finally an IT department in the world, which has No Indians....(Countrymen...we have to move up the bar guys...commmonnn)
But nevertheless...>ISOLATED<

LOLLL

And well...there were the usual people i met who i am sure are there in all offices...

There was TINA...the mentally day dreaming, all beauty-no duty kinda secretary/employee who smiles at you and also at the potted plant next to you with equal kindness

There was the impatient Pandey....who had important meetings and had to leave....

Not to mention....The usual run of the mill Skeptic Vamp (evil Lady...or so i thought)
Lets call her Sundari....And she looked at me as if i have just been released from the Jungle....

MAN WHERE THE HELL IS THAT TRAIN.....!!!

Lunch was Salads..... :((

YOU SMILED AGAIN DINT YOU....!!! Sadistic Creature....

And after lunch, Metallica introduced me To Mr. Bean....our new collegue...who, like Mr. Bean, smiled often, said little, and was very prim and proper...(a real opposite to my Adidas jacket and Westcoast gold shoes)

Metallica took us around the whole factory...t'was great...

But thats all another story....

The following day was also smooth, with me learning the ropes slowly, and using them....


Tomorrow will be 1 week since i tasted Meat....!!!!

Give me Strenght ya Allah...!!

Friday, 13 June 2008

Destination Deutcheland..(Stepping into Europe)


I read a quote at the training today.

“One does not discover new lands, without the acceptance of the fact that he will have to leave sight and memories of the familiar old shores behind him and spend ages at the uncertain route of the sea !!”

Whoever wrote it was clearly aware of what he was talking about.

Its 10 pm in the night, there is still hint of twilight at the horizon. Lazy European sun !!

Let me begin at the start of it all. The journey !

I started alone from home, all my friends busy away at their job, in the peak summer afternoon of 11 June 08. (A tad too prosaic huh? Sorry) in lame terms, I was sweating my t-shirt to saturation when I left home. (Howzat) And all the airport formalities were like..BLAAH.

What did catch my attention was the whole Terrorism prevention steps the airlines are taking these days. After checking in, I walked through to the passport control, and a female a red tee (which read MAY I HELP YOU !!) asked me if I had any liquids in my hand carry. I was like…ummmm, maybe, I guess I will check, she said I must.. And there I found out I was carrying a potential terrorism weapon. My Can of Gillette Shaving Cream. Forgive me for my ignorance, but I actually acted surprised to her that my facial hair removing cream could be used to put the entire world through another terrorist activity. I reluctantly left it there. (For those of you who love to point out that I could have packed it in my check in baggage, well the trolley was check in, just 4 kilos too heavy, so had to tag it along.)

The better part was when she saw my toothpaste tube. (Yes I was carrying one for fear of not finding my brand here). And she goes…Awww..This is also not allowed. I cocked an eyebrow and she explained, “Well, permissible limit is 100 ml, yours is 125 ml. so not allowed, but you could try, they might let you”.
Few instances in life where I was left with no words, this was one of them. I mean..the security personnel think that 25 ml of fluoride toothpaste (promising white teeth in 30 days) would actually be a Weapon. I mean, which terrorist came up with that idea. I mean, which self respecting terrorist would pull out a toothpaste tube n say, “I AM HIJACKING THIS PLANE. IF YOU DO NOT CO OPERATE… (for dramatic affect he shows the toothpaste tube)..” What is he planning, to brush the pilot to death if he didn’t take the plane to do his bidding?????

I mean.. WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?? I mean, I cannot carry 25 ml extra toothpaste because some fanatic thinks that he can blow up innocent people and get rewarded for that? Allahu Akbar, talk about delusion.

Nevertheless, the actual weapon was more cleanly concealed in my small shaving pouch. When I walked out of the security check, the officer tells me, SIR WE NEED TO CHECK YOUR LUGGAGE. I for a fact know that my teeth are in deep trouble now if the Germans don’t stock my brand of toothpaste. And the woman who checks my luggage says, “Sir Please remove the scissors which you are carrying”

My brain does an immediate recap of the packing I did earlier. Hell yes I was carrying a pair of scissors. The total length of which is slightly greater than my forefinger. She takes it and calmly puts it away and says, THANK YOU THAT WILL BE ALL.

Mixed emotions again.

MY 25 ml EXTRA TOOTHPASTE HAS BEEN CLEARED. BUT THEY TOOK AWAY MY NOSE HAIR CLIPPING SCISSORS.

Again my imagination runs wild, HOW DOES A TERRORIST HIJACK A PLANE WITH NOSE HAIR CLIPPERS. Man are they desperate or what?


“MUHAHA THIS PLANE HAS BEEN HIJACKED. EVERYONE REMAIN IN YOUR PLACES. WE’RE GOING ON A LEETLE TRIP. HEY PILOT, TURN AROUND THIS PLANE..WE’RE GOING TO MADAGASCAR.. IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY, I WILL SURELY……(this is where my mind goes blank)

“…..SURELY PUT THIS SCISSORS IN UR NOSE AND PULL OUT UR NOSE HAIR ONE BYE ONE??? ”

“…..CUT YOUR THROAT (expecting you to sit silently and see me try to use a 1 inch long blade to slaughter you) ”

“….GET CREATIVE?? ”

I mean….WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU GUYS….

You fall below the dignity of the so called jihad you are running. What will you tell the Rasul Allah? “Ya Rasul Allah, I hijacked a plane full of kafirs with a nose hair clipper”?

Go read your books for the sake of Allah. GROW UP !!

Because of your terrorist fears, now I have to spend atleast half a Euro on a pair of brand new nose hair clippers.

Ironically your jihad caused me…A MUSLIM…to go through trouble.

I hate being able to pick out the irony of situations..

Nevertheless, lets move on.

My joy knew no bounds to find out that I HAD GOT THE WINDOW SEAT….

Hey don’t blame me for being a lover of scenery.

And my joy was crushed when I saw that the best in-flight movie was HORTON HEARS A WHO!! An animated story of an elephant who ….. (its pathetic to even mention the plot so forget it). But I loved one line in that movie. The elephant thinks he has a mission which he must accomplish A.S.A.P. ….. which according to him is,

ACT SWIFTLY AWESOME PACHYDERM (not verbatim)

Lol…imagine my boss telling me…FARAZ I WANT THIS QUOTATION OUT. A.S.A.P. I mean, WOW !! would he be right or what.

For those of you who didn’t get the pathetic joke up there, a pachyderm is a synonym for Elephant.

For those of you who still dint follow, a synonym is a word which can be used in place of another similar word. (Football = Soccer)

HAHAHA…I still retain my PJ talent.

Well, to make matters more beautiful, the lady behind me was an Arab lady travelling with 2 kids to Germany. Lets call her SPECIMAN LOUDSPEAKER. Because, she felt she was royalty I think. She didn’t let me incline my economy class seat, coz I would be practically sleeping in her lap. But she could very well tap with all her strength at her personal entertainment screen, which strategically was placed in my seat’s headrest. So every time she hated the program on screen, my spinal cord got the message.

Not to mention, the flight was delayed, Munich it seems was in a mood to have a thunderstorm in protest of my arrival, so the plane was sent to Nurnberg. Whoop de do. And the pilot forgot to mention that in Arabic. A mistake for which I and my surrounding passengers paid the price.

Once we landed in Nurnberg, our specimen loudspeaker lost her marbles, or so it seemed. Coz she expected Munich, and this certainly did not seem like Munich, (unless the Munich-ians had opted for a more agricultural lifestyle). She asked a German lady WHAT WAS HAPPENING.

And the German lady knew that this lady wouldn’t understand German, so she might as well tell her in English.. “WEEE ARE IN NURNBERG BECAUSE…STORM…RAIN…WIND IN MUNICH

Big mistake.. The Arab lady was insulted. Thus began her Shakespearean recital of the injustice of everyone speaking English. I mean…hahaha…she actually expected the German female to speak Arabic. LOL.. She went on a shouting spree asking for cabin crew with Arabic knowledge. And when he came, more recitals. I am pathetic in Arabic, but I did manage to hear what I think meant

“ I AM ASKING THESE PEOPLE WHAT HAPPENED AND ALL ARE GOING BLOLOLOLOLOLO IN ENGLISH………………..”

Speechless twice in 1 day. Brilliant start. She was a big hit with the Germans I tell you. They loved her. And she enjoyed the stardom. (or so it seemed)

All this while, I was turning page after page of Andy Mcdermot’s ATLATIS.

But let me tell you this. The first sight of Europe fascinated me. Fascinated is a small word actually. You could say, Speechless Hat-trick.

The sight , most simply described, would be that the Europeans atleast managed to keep Allah’s beautiful gift to human beings intact.

Coming from a land where it was sand and mud from horizon to horizon, not to mention the neo-concrete jungles. This place was a sight for sore eyes.

It was like someone had taken the paint bucket from MS PAINT and splashed the desert landscape with green. I mean….THESE PEOPLE HERE HAVE FORESTS.. You know…BIG HUGE PATCHES OF TALL GREEN TREES… The last time I saw them was in ooty, but even there, the trees weren’t as pristine, each of them carrying a LAXMI LOVES SUBRAMANIYAM love ode.

Nor had I seen such buildings except in the preserved buildings of Mysore and Bangalore, whose corners are painted red by eccentric pan-chewers and the walls again a tribute to SALEEM + ANARKALI love stories.

Prosaically speaking

“As the plane came descended towards the carpet of clouds, and slowly cut through it with its wing, from below came into view a land, where it was green all the way to the horizon. Patches of farmland was evident from the houses and barns which were like a shot out of the late 18th century landscape paintings. Among these farmlands were huge areas covered with trees whose imposing height was evident even from the air.

As we landed, I could see more clearly the sloping roofs of the houses in Nurnberg. Straight out of the paintings we did in 2nd grade. I felt like I had just walked into a screenshot of ROBIN HOOD- PRINCE OF THEIVES.

European landscape was all it promised to be in the Yash-Raj movies…and more.

The sunset was simply stunning. I mean, the unpolluted air showed me how orange the sun really gets just before it disappears for the night. A sight which I previously admired at the Goa beach.”

SUBHANALLAHIL AZEEM. I can only but marvel at the qudrath Allah Subhanawataala has created for us.

The European landscape isn’t very different from the bits and pieces of rural south India that I have seen. No. Infact, the streets, the houses and the plains remind me very much of Bangalore and its old areas like Richmond Town and Jayanagar. It’s practically the same. The difference comes in the fact that Bangalore has moved on to a concrete jungle, but the towns of Europe are reluctant to do so. They leave the huge cities to do that. While they sit in the peaceful satisfaction that its possible to live in century 21 with all our amenities and still look like a lost paradise.

I pray that India still manages such places, ooty, kodaikanal, the backwaters of Kerala and hill stations of north India will match what I have seen of Europe. Only matter to hope for is….Preservation of Allah’s art”

If you read all that, you are either mad, or jobless, or both.

Hahaha

To cut a long story short, we waited for almost 2 hours or so at the Nurnberg airport before flying back to Munich. The late summer sun had left a slight twilight which was strange for my Asian eyes which were used to total darkness at 10pm.

My poor colleague, May Allah bless him, waited out for me at the Munich airport. The drive from there to Frustenfeldbruck was pretty smooth.
For a person coming from Dubai, empty roads like that are nothing less than miracles.

The hotel room is lovely mashallah.

And the morning happened earlier than I presumed.

I spent the day at a nearby village called Landsbried. The local clubhouse serving as the training centre for the EMEA Teams. And by village, I should probably say that its like looking at visual of something out of a FAMOUS FIVE story. Green grassy plains ending is far away forests which could serve as a great exploration pastime in summer holidays.

My hotels is on the banks of a river. The view outside is of clear water reflecting the greenery lining its banks.

Right now, its 11 pm. There is a thunderstorm outside.

Thank you for reading.

By the way. Its been 24 hours since I tasted meat.

NOW WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE…!!!

Sunday, 20 April 2008

5 Star Dining

Date : April 20
Place : Radisson SAS
Occasion : Boss's party


Dont get me wrong, I enjoyed the dinner party, it was to celebrate something, and the gesture was lovely. Its the dining that got my brains fried.

The place is stinking with filthy rich people who are doing god knows what in a place like that. I mean, hey doncha have some billion dollar industries to take over or some ships to buy? what are u doing in a place like dat, and they say, HOLIDAYING...relaxing...lolz

The dining itself got to me, as we sat down, i noted with horrendous realization that my eating space was infested with spoons and forks and knives of different kinds and sizes. I mean, we use our hands at home, and if we used a fork n spoon, WE USE ONE SETTT.... these people had a whole silver set, just for me....bonkers you think, but nooo, its true.. And i wondered, what the hell am i gonna do, i cant eat my whole meal with just one spoon and fork, my boss would think me a villager (where again, they use hands). It seems awfully stylish to dirty as many utensils as you can. They probably hold bets in the kitchen and washrooms as to how many Mr. Snob De Fink the 4th would dirty today. And its not only the spoons. I MEAN ALL UTENSILS.

So then i walk to the salad bar, and i find out, its seafood night. (hurray :-l). But the salads are mindblowing.
And then i walk past something which i later realised was a mortuary for all the sea creatures...
A big glass bowl shaped as an oyester shell, which was filled with ice, on which lay the remains of many a sea creatures freshly cooked (or so the people said, but i have my doubts)

And as the meal progressed (slowly) we faced a choice between still a bottle of still water and a bottle of sparkling water.....

BLANK....

i mean, water is water innit, or have they manipulated this luxury too, my assumption was that still water is taken from ponds and sparkly water from a flowing river...but damn was a wrong, he brought 2 bottles, and surprise surprise...BOTH CONTAINED WATER...grrrrr..but the magic was when he opened it...it fizzled, now this raised another question, why would anyone in his right mind fizz up water ?? dont we have tooo many fizzy drinks already??

and my boss says, I like sparkling water better than plain one....i was like...woahh...must be something....and when i tasted it, i felt like i was drinking a fizzed up cough tonic mixed with 7Up.. lolz..

Maincourse : A bigger morgue of fishes...this time, all raw, kept in big pans, in ice....strange i thought, for a hotel, these guys dont pay attention to detail, LIKE THE FOOD NEEDS TO BE COOKED, or is it IN to be a caveman, less clothes are in, raw food too???

Then i realised, you selected the pieces you wanted (which all looked the same) and gave it to the chef who cooked it right in front of you. WHY?? i dont know, " BCOZ FOOD IS OF YOUR CHOICE" i can almost hear u say that, but hey, in normal restaurants, you order food of your choice and it comes from the kitchen..COOKED..

here you choose the food, you pick it and take it to the cook and eat it too, talk about 5 star SERVICE.

Being used to fast service from pakistani and indian restaurants, you kinda loose your appetite waiting for the master chef's CREATION..

and when it comes, you think, maaan, this could use a bit more ingredients. But reality flashes its ugly face at me..That most of the multi millionairs who come here prolly suffer from a wide range of disease..from common diabetes to high profile cancers..so their food has to be like tat..tasteless...but expensive...

all in all, the food and desert was great, but the funny protocols had me in fits (in my mind of course, else i;d stand to loose my job)

as i walked back home, I had 2 take a water taxi (there's a creek here u see)...and i felt the fishes in my belly were wishing they could come alive...Full moon and high tide certainly didnt help.

And when i was walking towards my room, i passed by a barbecue being put up in a pakistani restaurant, and the only thing stopping me from jumping the gun was that my tummy had been over populated...and i dint wanna hurt the feelings of the fishies....

To all those who know me as sharky, it certainly was a La dee Dah expirience, but i'd trade it for a dhaba ANYDAY

Sunday, 16 March 2008

Saying Goodbye

People ask me when it was
I seem to recall, but with a pause
It was a sunday, all but sunny
The day was a joke life found funny

I saw her lying, with her eyes closed
Such a calm figure she was, so composed
The white shroud around her was pure
She had left me and gone, i still wasnt sure

The day she left, my world felt blank
Like i was left to walk, the pirate's plank
And as the time comes, to take her away
To the end of this life, which she'd loved to play

I walk with silence, close to her place
And with my warm hands, touch her cool face
The sobs around me slowly drown
And all i hear is her voice, warm and brown

With tremendous effort, I lift her in silence,
My brothers and all help, all eyes and hands tense
I carry her off, to her new resting place
Even as i do, i can remember he smiling face.

I love you, she'd tell me, I love you a lot
And hug me in a very adorable way
I feel like betrayer as i take her, i feel really Bad
When i leave the graveyard, i hear her whisper, Bye Dad

Sunday, 10 February 2008

Lessons learnt in flight

The wind screams in a low pitched voice which can almost drive you deaf. As my wings hold the currents and push my body upward, my tailfeathers balance the ascent. Mom and Dad watch from the craggy peaks, seeing me fly solo and onto my first dive. An achievement for any peregrine of my age, as generally a dive comes a little later.

As I soar to a considerable height, I start thinking about who I am and what I am doing here. A stupid thought for a falcon at this altitude, but i guess heights make you philosophical. I have seen humans in airplanes look through the windows in silence and the look in their eyes is a sure sign that they are pondering about the magnanimity of the sky and the cotton clouds. We peregrines feel it all the time, I guess this is why the state is called GETTING HIGH. I hear humans can do it with a few powders or a bacteria infested drink.

From so high up in the atmosphere, the world looks so small (DUH!!). And I have to strain my eyes to see my parents down there on the edge. Dad must be thinking, "Get on with it already, Silly stool pigeon" . But deep down inside, he is proud that i have come here without his help.

Everysince i hatched, they said I was special. Funny thing that everyone felt it but me. As life passed, I realized why. Because what i am is an individual thing. For a person looking from outside, it is something great. Like for a person in the aircraft, the feeling of flying solo is great. And sometimes the lazy one inside me longs for a chance to fly like them without flapping my wings. So I felt they were special, and they inturn felt I was. Funny creatures. Its all hunky dory until I realized the fact that, not only did they feel i was special, they believed that I SHOULD KNOW IT. And unfortunately I guess I am the last person to accept it. Or rather, Last Falcon.

I got along my small like being ME. And they thought I was being nice. I knew how to fly, they wondered how I could do it. I wondered how they couldnt. No I am not suffering from Optimism. And I didnt attend a personality development course to become this. I guess we all are born with an ability which we dont see, but feel it naturally. And this is unique to others.

I look back at all the times I have cried, all the times pain tore me wing to wing.. I remember the times when life was nothing more than one small jump from my nest into the ravines below. It could all end in a snap (wats with the puns today). But somehow I held on with all my might. Strange eh? I didnt grow physically , but I always knew that my first flight would be memorable. When i didnt grow, people who thought I was special thought i was "SPECIAL". And belonged with the owls and the nightingales. But when i swept past them in a few days time, they knew i belonged with the Falcons.

Life gave me good times, but more bad ones. And it all made me the bird I am today. They say its a journey where u learn everything at a level. Bad days are best coz u get to learn. Good days pass off with no solid lesson. Paradoxical isnt it? I know. I am still high you see.

And as I reach the point where I feel I may not be able to breathe, I knew I had reached my peak. When I look down, I see no one, but the image of my parents never leaves the heart. And I look up at the vast unconquered sky, and the earth below. From here, life is lonely, and sad, and silent. Everything my past showed me enough. And then I bend my neck first, swung my wings along the streamline as dad had told me to. And I dived.

As I picked up more and more speed, I realized how fatal this can be. The dive is in every possibility the last one too. And then I could see my eyes turn hazy, and so did the brain. And deep inside, I smiled and thanked all the painful lesseons I picked up and faced with people.

My Dive got faster, I was a missile coming to earth,at 250 as dad said, My balance started shaking. And for once, It wasnt scary. It was mind numbing. For the next few seconds I didnt see the problemes ,u life was plagued with. At this time, It was me, and the dive. Nothing else mattered.

As I zoomed towards the earth, only one thought struck me was whether I would return alive.

And it made the dive more challenging. As I broke the paragrine threshold velocity, I realized the silent power in which calmed me. The wind screamed and howled in my ears, And i remained silent.

300 Kmph. And I was the fasted moving thing on this planet (naturally atleast). And suddenly all my problems disappeared into the receding skylines. As the craggy outline of the peak came into view, I could see mom with her wings over her eyes. And a smile on dad's face which said.

He's a Peregrine.

Friday, 18 January 2008

Take Off

January 19th
2:55 a.m

Cold Desert Night, a temperature of 10 degrees atleast. An unearlthy hour. And a crazy man at the keyboard.

What do you think I will write.

I guess no one might read this. So I better write for myself.

There are times in one's life where a person feels unsure of himself. And its these times when he wants someone to hear him. Ironically, it is these times when one doesnt find anyone to hear him. If luckily he does, he doesnt trust him well enough to talk.

So feelings remain buried in the heart, never to surface.

What we do in life, Echoes in eternity. I couldnt agree more with Russel Crowe's character in Gladiator.

But how are we really like this? Do we take every step thinking of eternity?
When we do, what are the repercussions of it?

When we make decisions, what do we keep in mind? And come to the big part of people's lives, The sacrifice, who do we make sacrifices for? Our faith, our parents, our loved ones, our unloved ones? I feel, every sacrifice we make..is for ourselves.

If you wish to know a character of a man, look at the sacrifices he has made in his life. No one knows what lies inside the heart of anyone else. But if you wish to know what a man is made of, look at how he handles the word sacrifice.

Never easy, and we know it.Never wanting to be in that situation. Irony again.... we are compelled to face something which we dont like. And it makes us who we are.

A sacrifice, the reasons for it, all a part of what we do. Of who we are inside, and what we appear to the world.

When a Peregrine is born, it cant fly for days. But when it does, its mother teaches it to hunt, and off it goes. Never a chance to return to its parents. Like many other animals. But we humans, have it difficult. No matter how much we learn to fly, no matter how much we learn to hunt, and no matter how fast we can dive at the prey and catch it midflight at about 300 mph, one day we return to our parents, and we need to face something which no other animal does. The reciprocation of love.

No love is complete without a sacrifice, If it is complete, its not love, its a compromise.

P.s. If this doesnt make sense to you, do not be troubled. The human mind is a complex thing, the heart, is un-decipherable.

Peace !!