Versions

Presenting the past and present through filtered light

Showing their apparent bounty or dearth of might

Far from providing a well-rounded insight

Free to exercise their choice of delight, spite or fright

Create a new version, then spray and pray

Hope for some people to sway along their way

Whether they win or whether they lose

is determined by the version they choose

Specially selected with a view to cash in

Neglecting versions that seem to be clashing

Ruthless reactions whenever a view

Comes to the fore in a different hue

The believers and adherents continue to adhere

Be it out of passion or be it out of fear

A more complete view is looked down upon

A more complete version frowned upon

There is often a dagger that dangles

There is often preparedness to strangle

There is often a web that entangles

A head that turns to seek a different angle

But rebel heads continue to turn

Renegade minds continue to learn

Pursuing the original, seeking the pristine

Looking through the glare of the manufactured sheen

The eternal contest continues as time unfolds

As happenings happen and versions are told

Riverfront Reminiscences

Bright lights shining like jewels in the night

An air of delight where happiness can take flight

Frolic shown in all its splendor

A place to create moments to remember

Bridges aplenty from bank to bank,

Ripples reflecting rays from rows of lamps

A play of light and architecture

Against the canvas of the night sky, a perfect picture

A limited frame, merely an illusion

Deceiving the eyes to jump to conclusion

Some often pay too heavy a price

For a false belief sometimes on the verge of delusion

People drawn like moths to a flame,

Towards an eden which is only a given name

Calm, gushing, endless ripples putting the senses at ease

A feeling of lightness brought on by the gentle, cooling breeze

And the acceptance as small sacrifice of the smell of stagnation

Along the way it picks up some stench

Gets more severe when tightened with the economic wrench

The path and process of free flow constricted,

Concealed by a fairytale deviously depicted

The stench of stillness hangs heavy in the air

Victimized by prejudice lies a sliver of despair

And an unnoticed but burgeoning yearning for change

A wish to meander away from the course

And a desire and fear of making a stand against the force

The Name Game

Why is it that our top decision makers frequently show a tendency to merely name and rename things?  This symbolism, and the importance attached to such superficial changes, often emerge from people who belong to, and sometimes mention an intent to guard/revive, an ancient culture which attracts people from all over the world who have a desire to ‘explore their inner depths’ or ‘find a deeper meaning of life’ or such similar things.

What changes does it bring about? Now that JnNURM has been renamed, people are hoping that AMRUT will take care of their wish. People who are still trying to work their way around the Madrases, Calcuttas and VTs may not be too happy with the additional burden of Sambhajinagars or Karnavatis. Ask someone in Nagpur the directions to the nationally ubiquitous MG Road, and there is a fair chance you’ll end up with nothing (even Google Maps looks a bit misguided on this issue). Somewhere, there might be a school whose authorities rename it in honour of Jyotiba Phule, and appoint a principal who believes that girls don’t need education since after all they have to stay in the kitchen in the future. Maybe, somebody would list down such a renaming on their resumé as “Initiated a change that was easily implemented and showed immediate results”. Some would indeed find such a statement, such instantaneous results, quite attractive in an age where life is too short to safely remove a USB device.

But change is sometimes good. Some might argue that such changes are a reflection of the culture or history of that particular region, and may create more awareness about these among the people. But such change may show a more pronounced effect for those who are in businesses related to signboards or visiting cards. At least someone can expect Achche Din if such announcements of renaming become more frequent.

The overall verdict? Before our eyes, we have the example of the Blame Game, another futile exercise, which incidentally happens to be a favourite pastime of our decision makers. These changes are only cosmetic changes, not cosmic changes as some of them might want us to believe (or worse, believe strongly in this principle themselves). At the end of the day, Bangalore, by any other name, would be just as expensive.

Comatose in Crisis

The idle idols watch silently from their plaster cast

The images watch unmoved from their frames

Showing no traces of their legendary, unmatched power

Leaving unchecked the mayhem propagated in their name

Pigments on parchment, the scriptures, texts and scrolls

Alleged words of the allegedly divine

Sit still but safe after playing a role

In providing a treasure for manipulative minds

The guardian, the supposedly mightiest of all,

Looks too helpless and weak to stop the blaze

Flocks of the faithful shield him against the squall

Under the dubious cover of mysterious ways

In that hallowed cage of gold, amidst the palaver of praise

A quiet whisper of sense echoes, reverberates

It draws a heavy price, this ultimate vice

As it is construed as a plot for the credence’s demise

Least bothered about what the omnipresence heard or saw

Driven by the greed of expanding their controlled creed

In they draw those who are clutching at straws,

Spread the weed as they prey on those in need

The scriptures survive on the perceived sanctity of their words

Through warmth or force, in voice or in black and white

Induce unnatural instinct in the voluminous herds

To trample outsiders in a show of holy unholy might

The static statues sit on their pedestals,

Serene expressions set in cement or stone,

Assured of their chances of survival

In the tumultuous tussle for the throne

Power Factor

The name plate sits pretty, looking polished and neat

Shows off the dormant power that’s lying beneath

It needs to be taken for a spin, dragged through some murk

It needs a bit of excitation to prepare it for work

At the flick of the switch, the current rises high

Pent-up inertia needs a fitting reply

Heavy-duty equipment, freshly commissioned

Spins into life, hums into rotation

More noise, less work comes from unloaded spinning poles

Time to put the wheel on the shaft, get things to roll

Action for reaction spreads through the circuitry

Intensifies with addition of more machinery

Needs to be controlled by some additional accessory

Need a greater overlap, need a better cosine

Need to stop the wave from lagging behind

The wave must stay in step, the electrons must drag their feet

To avoid a slip-up and release of excess heat, a sign of impending defeat

Need to put the fear of disaster, of swaying wildly off the mark

Of someone who’ll cut off the power and extinguish the arc

Of new installation being preferred over excessive operating cost

Of someone who won’t hesitate to replace if the efficiency is lost

Battle for bandwidth

Introducing to reality

To what the brightest minds aspired

Working wonders without wires

Waves carry coded data at the speed of light

What is now commonplace was once a display of might

From a modest start the burgeoning e-balloon burst

More people, more gigabytes, more megahertz

Renovating and innovating to keep up with the pace

Fighting a real battle for precious virtual space

It goes on becoming harder to just describe the ease

As asteroids of factoids strike you at 4G

Everything the world shares is now in your pocket

There’s a newly gained importance of proximity to a socket

A thousand answers to every question at the drop of a hat

A thousand pings every hour from the never-ending chats

Meet the new-day messenger: short-lived, bloodless, heartless

A fragile plastic package of portable, programmable smartness

Worlds get connected with just a touch on a screen

But it’s the power of the human touch that’s turning man into machine

Reflection of the Moon

Far away from the city lights

In the darkness obscured by their artificial mist

Dominating most of the starlit nights

Gleams the ever-changing lunar disc

Reflected light casts its image

On the dark, still waters of the silent lake

Dark, menacing clouds hover in the sky

The winds wild, howling, astray

The brief staccato grows into a roar

A downpour develops from a fine spray

The flashes of reflection are restored and distorted

By the ripples perturbing the silent lake

Waning every passing day

The lunar disc vanishes for a night

The stars, despite all their might

Apparently do little with their rays

A day later, the lunar crescent emerges

Painting the blank canvas of the silent lake

Occasional tremors trouble its surface

But they are kept out of sight

In a show of power at the late hours

It invokes the mammoth ocean’s might

But still casts the same reflection

On the dark, still waters of the silent lake