Monday, 20 April 2015

Incomplete व्याकरण

lakdi ke takhat par
naram baazu ke sirhaane
kat-har jaisi neek gardan ka
maathe se chhu karke ghisna
aur talvon ko ek dusre ka araam

geeli kaayi pe nange paav chalke
silvatte pe pisi mehendi ki bu
umas mein liptee aagosho bhari raat
ke baad jo garam silvatein dekhi thi
taaze bistar pe
angoothon ke chimti ke khel ke baad
hota edi ke ragadne se ek abhaas

jaise deh ke rongton ne ki ek dusro se kaanafoosi
toh girti seelan se ladi deewar pe ki papdi
baahar sadke bheegti iss boonda-baandi ke shor mein
phir bhi pardo ke gali se khambo ka rukta nahin 
kabhi shikaayat karna
aur kaano ke daaton tale kutarna
taalu ko yaad rehta hamesha
aur anishchit karvaton mein
has-ro ke ghum hojaana neend mein

udhaar rahega mujhpar yeh
adhoora saraansh tumhara

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

Sahyadri and the reclaimed lands.

he wakes up and looks at the ceiling. Ceiling Fan.
She is already in the kitchen. Boiling Milk.
he closes his eyes. the Sayhadris.
She looks out of the window. adds tealeaf.
He comes and stands behind her. kiss on the nape.
She covers the heated vessel with a lid. Brings down the boil.

He talks about erosion. How he feels at par with the western ghats. How he remembers the crayons and the monsoon and his childhood packed in a crayon box. The color of the transparent water in the lake nearby. He is vanishing and feeling eroded like the Sahyadris. He says.
The Western Ghats and it's magical days.

She tries to forget all this. All of this.
 The sound of bacon frying in its own fat.
The horrible lustful smell of it.
 Through the window she sees the white flowers falling.
 She throws these images outside the window.
Out of each and every possible window.
Color temperature of life SHIFTS

Pours herself a cup. Sits on the sofa. It's without milk this time.
Not like the last night. Not like the last morning.
Nothing is the same. A is not equal to a,
And B is not equal to b.

Looking at new flowers and rays.
Fitting feet in the painful leather again.
Without hanging onto the past again.
Stepping out, once again.
Mosaic is more romantic than marble she says.

She will soon go to the shore. Let the old memories sink into
the sea along with the golden drop of Sun.
The people standing against this background
in a silhouette will too forget her soon
The unfortunate maternal love
this land presented her with,
will happily disown her too 

 A drop of gold. She likes to call the Sun.

* Parts of Stanza 1 and 2 are inspired and partially taken respectively by the works of an upcoming Indian writer/ photojournalist and film maker Ishan Sadwelkar. The Sahyadri metaphor is a part of his extensive study and understanding on the region. 
* The pictures have been clicked by me at Sinhagadh fort(lies in Sahyadri range), my lovely Kitu Gupta's house in Mumbai and the 'arabian sea-the shore-the all and ever accepting endless horizon' seen from Juhu Chowpatty. 

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

bhaari post

There are some days in MITID, my college, that make me feel like I am actually in a college. All thanks to some really talented friends and faculty which know how to teach and inculcate the habit of expressing ourselves on a regular basis. It is just that it is not so often that one does so. The open elective course in our 6th sem brings out the best of us. I did mine last year which made me go through a carrier change and a reformation phase in life. Well it's not that hardcore too. I don't mean to give any wrong ideas here. It's a course in which us 'design' students are made to choose from a list of activities other than their own departments.

You will come across a Retail student working on a sewing machine figuring out the stitch for his vest, a product student dying endless ropes for an elective in weaving, a graphic design student understanding how zeebrush works. And same goes for everyone else. It's like acquiring a new skill-set all together and not being under the pressure of doing it to get marks, but to have a product by the end of it all.

This year's highlight for me was the comic illustration O.E. conducted by Aroop Sir from the animation department. Some of the panels were so good that made me laugh at and enjoy the very reason of our existence in this place. Humor often comes out from a tragedy. And the students came up with hilarious visuals of the day to day life we spend here at mitid. Some choose to sulk over the problems and some come up with light hearted comical visuals to eradicate the misery temporarily, which does no harm to anyone :-)

I don't really know who has done what, but just sharing the stuff students had done during the course. These were one/two/three panel artboards for comic design. Took all the snaps in a hurry as I had to catch my train to Mumbai. Was lazy to crop and compose (like always). Also, scanner was not the feasible option at that moment. The folks currently at Mitid would empathize with me :-P