Dreams Don't Die

A body adrift

In the clear vastness

Disintegrating, floating

Immersed, absorbed

In the tranquil waters

Flowing through

Surrendering to Solitude

A comfort that absolves

And amid this ease

A Vortex builds

With a rebellious intensity

Ripping apart

Each revealed particle

Actualizing

Its essence of existence

Collapsed yet free

The detached pieces

Floating loosely

In the massive black hole

Getting pulled

Into a blinding whiteness

Where

Quietly, softly,

A dream gets reborn

Rising

Waiting to shine

What's Better?

You there, the one

With a rounded belly

Chin held high

In egotism, with welly

Leather belts and

Big fat pockets

Sharp eyeballs

In cold eye-sockets

You there, the one

With your upper crust chick

Haughty strides

Dresses slick

Such pride, such envy

Such high heeled shoes

Incapable of compassion

Manipulated rues

Why do you see me

With ridicule and hate?

When I stand in anticipation

At your shut gate?

Is it because

I beg you for food?

Or do my frayed clothes

Appear rude?

My face fatigued,

And my manners crude?

Oh I get it,

It must be because

I stereotyped too

Excuse me, I forgot

That’s the one thing

Done best by you

And pardon me

When I dare to state

That even in my

Haplessness and misery

I feel great,

Because, given a choice

I'm pretty sure

Anytime, anywhere

I’d rather endure

A hard sustenance

A poor house, falling apart

Than be like you

With a hollow character

and a poor heart

Chimes

She falls into her abyss
a void so vast
deep down, melting, dissolving
into the open skies
breathing into a
a giant clear universe
bathed in countless
softly shimmering stars
like pearls floating
atop the drowsy water
making softer tinkling sounds
dyed in subtle hues
of grays and blacks and blues
where silent dreams
glide gently, like feathers
awed, consumed, possessed
by a surreal world
the world of a day-dreamer
or an escapist?

My Valedictory Speech - 2012 :)

I still remember the first day I came into the campus. Through the cluttered Mumbai roads and rains I couldn't hide my disappointment at seeing the "unwelcoming"  gates of the campus and the chaos outside of it. But once inside, my expression changed completely. All the greenery was too good for my poor-eyesight. The Kresit building, hostel 11, Powai Lake, the temple, Sameer Hill, the lanes and the quiet... everything seemed so welcoming. This was to be my home for the next 2 years, and I was looking forward to it.

And now as I stand here, with just two weeks more for this journey to end (If I graduate this year, hopefully :P). Just two more weeks of college life for most of us, I can definitely say the time here has made us strive to achieve our potentials, and has left some amazing memories.

Einstein once said, “Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school.” What will we remember about IIT Bombay in two weeks, after forgetting all about Networks, Graphics or... ITPM?
Seniors, Juniors, Batch-mates - Friends.

Friends from all parts of India with their peculiar accents - Learning Khyamadema, ami jol khaabe... Vedi Mulgi aahe re... Inge po, Inge wa.. was a lot of fun! In the beginning there was a common joke on the names of our classmates... Malani, Nihilani, Rajwani, Gokani, Chhatani, Patani... kaise kaise naam waale students hain... par kuchh bhi kaho... sab ke sab studd hain yaar! No wonder then that I experienced apprehension and self-doubt looking around, but this was gradually replaced with a confidence and a quite resolve as I became acclimated to IIT B. I learned a lot from the other students. My respect and appreciation for them rapidly increased as I became more aware of the numerous bonds we had in common. I also made several friendships along the way that will hopefully last a lifetime. So much so that now its hard to believe that these same crazy people are going to be professionals in world's top companies!

We will also remember the most important pillars of the institute, our Professors. It is said - to err is human, to forgive is divine. But now there's a better version of it - to err is human and to really foul things up needs a computer. And trust a Computer Science Engineer to do just that. Who will understand this better than our teachers. They inspire, hold our hands, forgive, forget and guide us through our difficult times. They are like Petrol Pumps, (given the price hike, this seems even more relevant now) - we stop momentarily at their doorstep, and they, having filled our knowledge tank with vision and confidence, wave us off to a fulfilling journey called life.

Oh yes, I’m reminded of yet another version that I cooked up: To err is Student, to forgive Guide. And I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Pushpak Bhattacharyya for being my mentor and for guiding me throughout my two years. I am also thankful to the entire CSE Faculty for the immense inspiration they have been to all of us here.

We may have disappointed you many times, but leaving the institute we do realize that we carry with us a burden, a Privileged responsibility of being an IIT Alumnus. And all of us here hope to give our best to everything we do in our life ahead and make IIT Bombay proud of us.

And lastly we’d always remember the time spent here at IIT Bombay. From First semester - with the stress of not being able to work enough when you know you Have to, to the Last semester – with the stress of trying to work when you know you don't want to. Birthdays, friendship days, Traditonal days, Department trips, Class trips, and numerous treats. PG Sports, PG Cult, GRA, India winning world cup, KPL, Night outs, meeting strict deadlines, apology letters for coming late to the networks class, trying not to doze off in some other class. And of course getting 'First Zeroes'.

Jokes apart, through the failures and achievements here, I have learnt how to believe in myself. How to not be worried too much in times of failures. And how to remain humble during the high times. In short, how to handle failures objectively and take success subjectively. And in this the college has provided a stimulating, caring, and a very supportive environment.

In fact, following lines may just well sum up what I want to say:

With each passing hour the desire escalates

with each passing day the strivers yearn

Don't want this rigour to cease at all

Don't want an end to this sojourn.

And even as we have to leave

With cherished memories and self-belief

Where-ever we are, we’d always be proud to say

My alma mater? IIT Bombay.

As this beautiful journey ends and we go our separate ways, I'd like to say:

Do what your heart desires. Find the path to your true happiness. Even if it means taking the "road less travelled".

Rise, Shine and always be in your pursuit of happiness.

... and thus spake a Delhi Girl

“Such boisterous nature! I’m sure you must be from Delhi”

“Your first impression was of a haughty girl who is arrogant and always bossing around”

“You’re from Delhi? I’ve heard Delhi girls swear a lot!”

I was baffled at these reactions I got from people during my first few days  in Mumbai - a city, as I was told, that was very chilled out; where nobody really cared about who you were. I couldn’t possibly fathom how any Delhi Girl could be different from the ones from a similar metropolitan. But soon it dawned on me. Yes, there was good enough reason for this difference. For being classified as a 'Delhi-ite'.

I have been born and brought up there. I have spent the crucial 21 years of my life in Delhi. A city where being out of your home alone beyond 9pm is almost a sin; where chain-snatchers, eve-teasers and disgusting-oglers wouldn’t fear going on about with their corrupt actions and lewd statements even in bright daylight. The ‘heart’ of India where wearing a cut-sleeve tee and shorts in Delhi Metro was as inappropriate as butterflies to wicked 10 year olds, they’d pester them even when it’s totally uncalled-for.

How could the ones freely roaming along the marine lines at midnight learn to prefer a backpack with pepper-spray instead of a journalist/side bag in public places. How could the cool and easy going people coming from oh-so-not-Delhi states know why the girls with perpetual stone-faced looks are always ready to remove their chappals for a good thrashing at the slightest sign of mischief.

They say ‘better safe than sorry’. So that’s how we grow up; learning to protect ourselves, be bold and assertive about our own ‘rights to swear’.  Ah! So much for Delhi-bashing! But despite all its lack-of-security (or too much insecurity?) and power-hunger, it has its own appeal. It is the one state (okay, UT!) that will always be close to my heart.

For the uninitiated readers, Delhi’s cultural heritage is only too intriguing. The Red Fort, Purana Quila, Qutub Minar, Jantar Mantar,  Lodhi Gardens are just few indications of a regality that it has been. The ‘chaat’ and ‘chehal-pehal’ of Chandni Chowk, the classy aura of Connaught Place and South Delhi, our own Delhi-Metro, its food and foodies, its shops and shopaholics! Everything about the city is lovely.

Having spent almost 2 years here in Mumbai now, I can definitely say that it may be the fashion capital of India, but it can never match the sense of confidence and asservation of Delhi-ites. Its congested roads, tiring traffic and rickety Best Buses can only dream to match the wider roads, Low-floor CNG Buses  and Metro (okay! We take too much pride in it J)

If Mumbai-rains are much sought after, ask a Delhi-ite how he feels about ‘Garam Pakodas with Adrak waali Chai’ in ‘Dilli ki Sardi’. If Mumbai has the whole of Bollywood housed here, ask A Delhi-ite how proud (s)he is of the Republic Day parades and India Gate and the Commonwealth games being held at Delhi.


Every city is special in its own way. And Delhi, my hometown, has its own exceptional charm. Someone has said (and rightly so) that it can't be described wholly in one person's viewpoint. Every Delhi-ite has his/her own view of the place. His/her own way of getting enchanted by the small city that has so much to offer.  And it is my ‘Clean and Green Delhi’, my 'City of Flyovers' that I'll always miss no matter where I am.

This post is merely a result of reflecting over the scepticism towards Delhi and its people that I have seen in the two years I have been in Mumbai. In no way do I mean to demean Mumbai over Delhi. Because all said and done, “Agar Mumbai India ki Jaan hai, to Delhi Dil se kam nahi” :P

(Pardon the Pjs plz!)

जाने क्योँ

काम के बोझ तले, रोज़मर्रा की दौड़ में
वक्त यूँ ही निकल जाता है
पर अगर माँ से न हो दो पल बात, 
दोस्तोँ के साथ न हो कुछ देर मुलाकात,
तो दिन नहीं बन पाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

कभी तो भरी भीड़ में खोये, डरती हूँ 
पर स्थिर कदम नहीं डगमगाता है
फिर कभी यूँ ही अकेले में
पुरानी यादोँ के बीच एक आँसू छलक जाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

कठिन राह पर, भरी धूप में 
पाँव के छालों का दर्द भी महसूस न हो पाता है 
और कभी तो एक हल्का सा हवा का झोँका ही
अन्दर तक हिला कर छोड़ जाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

मंदिर की सीड़ी पर वो छोटे बच्चे
हाथ फैलाए, प्रसाद से पेट भरते किसी तरह
"मैं क्योँ सोचूं यह सब, मेरा क्या जाता है"
पर रोज़ वो निश्छल आँखें,
हर वो मासूम चेहरा नज़र आता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

Uncertainty!

Uncertainty, it's such a pain,
Uncertainty drove me insane
indecision, anxiety, doubt, dilemma
I wished it were all on the wane
so why is it when life's so certain,
controlled, regular, plain, mundane
it's puzzlement, enigma, chance, fun,
a little uncertainty that I want again?

    

अभिलाषा

*my first ever Hindi poem. It sort of has two meanings - one being told by an individual, the other by humanity (personification).


रोज़ शाम चौराहे पर
लौटते हुए, नाजाने क्यों
होता एक अजीब भ्रम, अहसास है
रौशनी, रंगत, चकाचौंध के बीच
दिखता मुझे एक अँधेरा कोना
खींचता जो अपने पास है

मन करता है बस एक बार
कुछ पल के लिए
खो जाऊं उस अँधेरे में
बस कुछ पल को
पाऊं खुद को हँसता हुआ
लालच, घृणा, मुखौटों से दूर
भीतर के डूबते सवेरे में

पर डर है रह जाऊं ना भीड़ में पीछे
काबू खुद पर आ जाता है
फिर रोज़ नाजाने क्यों लगता मुझको
उस घने अनजान अँधेरे में
आज भी जी रहा अंश मेरा आधा है

अधूरे सपने, भिखरी उम्मीदें,
सहनशीलता, करुणा,
दो लव्ज़ स्नेह के
बटोरे हुए

डरा हुआ, सहमा सा वो
हाथ फैलाए वहाँ रहता है
दबी हुई कराहती आशाएं लिए
दर्द से नम आँखों से
नाजाने क्या कहानी कहता है

Just for fun!

~Poem #1 - Wrote it for a lecture on Machine Translation that I had to take a few weeks back. Just to add some life to the otherwise boring lecture (I did also try including a lot of PJs in there though... Ya! Madness alright! :D )


Syntax, Semantics
Discourse, Pragmatics
Alignment, Multi-Words, Punctuation

Sarcasm, Intention
Poetry, Convention
Phrase Sense, Word Sense Disambiguation

Language Divergence,
Its core essence,
Are all a nuisance for Machine Translation

No matter which you try unriddling
You would still be lagging

If you forget or underrate
The Power of POS Tagging!

A Little Bit of This and A Little Bit of That

A few silly poems

Some shabby sketches

Those random poor jokes

That no one catches

Unprepared speeches

No hesitations

Stealthily reading novels

In exam preparations

Goofy dances

hard to stop

Zumba and tumba

and weird hip-hop

Croaking out songs

Like crazy loons

Grave guitar banging

more noise than pleasant tunes

The game of basket ball

where a tooth was lost

Those races, disgraces

sprains that caused

Sitting alone in evenings,

With deep profound thoughts

Funny fictitious philosophies

Beyond the grasp of clots

Hobbies, recreations

Had all the fun

Been there done that

All said and done,

"Jack of all trades, 

master of none

is certainly better off 

than a master of one" 

Athirst for Warmth

In stifling air

as it gasped
for breath

it saw it was just

benumbed from pain

not yet dead

And so it lay there
once again

Emotions dried

the darkness filled the

Void inside

Its thirst got quenched

From the tears it cried

But its hunger

Lingered on

For the light that crept in

At the break of dawn

And healed its

Bleeding flesh and bruise

Its wounds were tender

Painful, sore

It yearned for the light

Often, more

This restless yearning
Too long a wait
More anguish of mind
Than of physical state

Thats when its

Anger and fury peaked

Encaged, enraged

Vengeance it wreaked

overpowering

the numbing fear

It broke away

From the dungeon drear

Beating, defeating

The guilt, disdain

The mighty dragon

Rose again

In wrath, it exhaled

the fiery fire

intense, ablaze

with passion, with desire

its eyes

penetrating, sharp and still

stirring fright

a mere look could kill

its muscles burnt with

venomous hate

wings flapped wildly

toughened by the long wait

with mad ambition

dominance, decision

unparalleled strength

and fierce precision

a strong will

and stronger might

it readied itself for

The Last Fight

-         

Solace in Solitude

Impermanent impressions

Of bare feet on wet soggy sands

Silhouette fading

As the horizon hues to a dull orange

Lightest of winds

Kindling currents through the soul

These long evening walks

Spellbind with a strong sentience

The essence of being Me

Unsounded Wails

Wandering, wondering

Skeptical, straying

Always betraying

Its own thoughts

Its treasured desires

Buried inside

Alone in the corner

It struggled; it cried

The mighty dragon

Could not confide

Its dreams; its hopes

Bounded tight

By mightier ropes

Ignorant of the

Power each one owned

It sat there watching

While the others honed

Grieving, heaving

It sometimes did try

To breakaway

But left midway

It was too shy

Haunted by the dreary dark

Held captive by its

unsoundable screams

And so a withered

Dragon lies among

Frayed ropes and bruised dreams

Waiting in pain till it rots by bit

Surrenders and dies young

You're still here

Standing amid a cool breeze

with sun descending

soft and slow

reminded of sweet memories

not wanting to let go

some beautiful feelings, moments

buried deep within

never again to show

and even when there's

a lot to look forward to

no reason really to whine

a gentle tear dares to fall off

I sense the presence of

a spirit around

inexplicable, divine

- dedicated to Mumma (my grandmother)

Enchanting Days

Smell of petrol
wanting to eat chalk
playing office-office
fear of the dark

dusty roads
lazy afternoons
huddled in corners
helium balloons

red tricycle
candyfloss
goofy giggles
mumma's gloss

plastic pistols
oversized shoes
camel crayons
Swatkats, Baloos

magical days
all was good
I do indeed
miss my Childhood!

The Choice

Day after day
another, more
these thoughts they
keep rebounding
the more you try
to pull me in
these words they
keep resounding

unanswered questions
about the living, life
unending search
to lay off
this inner strife

this bitter quarrel
a constant battle
between
your world and mine
one says rise
rise to closure
the other tells me
to shine
your world is cruel
led by them loathers
where only the fittest
survive
but mine is one
where heart prevails
wounds are healed
where strength
I'll help revive

but courage it needs
a lot of it
and I'm afraid my dams
too shallow
with time
I fear it might burn out
the pity in which
I wallow
will you be there
beside me still
when the strength
within me dies
will you wake me up
to my world then
where my heart really lies

I'm afraid
I'm scared
to step out alone
the dimness may
mar my sight
unsure unclear
of the mettle it takes
to drive away
those monsters of the night
confused, befuddled
I wander till then
I wait
I wander
I wait

for the moment
when all this muddiness
will start to make
some sense
when I can live
the way I want to
put away this
mask of pretense

Rise and Shine

O Dragon,
Rise and Shine.

Rise. Steady, Slow.
you still have the power to grow
deep down 'they all' opine.
 
Shine. Glow.
of all, 'You' must know
you have within you
beauty pristine.

To you, before it sublimes

- dedicated to the so-called 'crushes' people have ;)


A thump of heart

Like a step it skipped

Attention divided

In anxiety it flipped

Kept all this concealed

Eyes focussed on the floor

Just as you passed by

My joy would soar

Was it your panache?

Or was it just me losing ground

The increase in volume

Gait of the zippy kind

When I knew you were

Coming from behind

All attention on you

Yet pretending

It wasn’t true

Was it your charm?

Or was it just me enchanted

That pang of envy

When you

talked to another

And more hurt

When you

didn’t even bother

Were you playing games?

Or was it just me getting deceived

A lonely walk

Along the crowded lane

Hoping you’d cross by

Always in vain

A sight of you

Made my day

No sign of you

Led my mind astray

Was it your presence?

Or was it just me longing for it

Once or twice

You looking at me

I think I did find

Your poses, your ways

Showing you were inclined

The long chats

Those times together

Impishly teasing

When you’d much rather

Was it you too?

Or was it just me being a cuckoo? 

from Under the Veil

misfit? unfit?

vague and fake

in gloom I wake

I’m shattered I’m scattered

I’m hollow I’m battered

Disquieted, I’m straying

I sinned then

Now I’m praying

misfit? unfit?

I’m wired but tired

tired of this chase

constant disgrace

tired of being me

of trying to be somebody

ending up being someone

someone I’m not

forgot with what I set off

discarding what I got

misfit? unfit?

I’m narrow I’m shallow

Weakened, shaken

with this hurt

I’m wholly taken

pain disdain

efforts gone in vain

I deceived, I got defeated

Now I'm left with

no soul, just clay

I cheated then

My morals sway

misfit? unfit?

I’m beaten, I’m broken

Can anyone mend?

Can’t take it longer

when will this end

That what I forgot, when shall I learn

That what I desire, when shall I earn

#1 - Parmita - Wandering Wisdom of the Carefree Twosome

#Upside Downside upside down

The 100 Rupee Note

It was only half a kilometer walk to the Metro station from their college, yet they used to take a cycle-rickshaw daily. For a frail man in humble clothes and worn out chappals, riding a rickshaw a few kilometres was also a troubling sight. Yet, there he was, earning his bread by doing some work rather than begging. This was the sole reason they preferred taking his rickshaw. He was earning with dignity, they were trying to help him do it. Both Paridhi and Amita, despite their diametric natures, were very particular about righteousness.

But one day in a rush to make it to a meeting they were already running late for, they sat behind a much younger and well-built rickshaw-puller and asked him to hurry the cycle up. The man however stopped midway with a jolt. He’d found a 100 rupee note lying on the road. He picked it up, pocketed it and sped the rickshaw even before they could ask the reason for this sudden halt.

Paridhi felt strongly against it. “How can he do it? This is so bad. He should have looked around for someone who might have dropped it!” she exclaimed. Amita was perplexed, “But somebody else would have falsely claimed it in that case. How can you trust the others around here?”

“Oh come on, it doesn’t need a genius to figure out who’s being genuine and who’s not. And no matter what you say, one fact is clear, This man is bad. It's people like him only who make us skeptical of trusting anyone else. I am never going to sit in his rickshaw again!” declared an annoyed Paridhi.

They reached the college. Amita was still wondering aloud, “You know, I once participated in a debate in class 11, the topic was ‘Chance Favours the Bold’. Perhaps he too is bold enough to take advantage of his chance, after all he is poor and must be having a family to look after”.

“Oh damn its 11:20am! Hurry up Ami, we’re late already. We'll get back to this discussion later.”

Grab the Chocolate! It doesn't come easy.

Two years later. On Phone,

Amita: Hey Par! Did you check your mail? The project we helped Prof. Dayal with is getting published! They're putting our name too in there.

Paridhi: “Oh! Wow! Awesome! Yae dude, finally we’re getting rewarded!”

Amita: “But it's disturbing me. We didn’t do that much work on this one. We don’t deserve this.”

Paridhi: “What crap! Don't you remember how that ‘Fraudy Shyamareddy’ had stolen our work and gotten it published without so much as peanuts to us for acknowledgement? And how he had hidden the fact from us for full one year! We are getting repaid for what we lost then. It comes back. Don't you worry. God takes things away. It's his way of giving it back.”

Amita: “But, this is also not right. We know we didn’t work enough. Prof. Dayal knows it too. How can we face him. I’ll feel ashamed of myself.”

Paridhi: “Haven’t you read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roahld Dahl? Would Charlie have earned the Chocolate factory had he not picked up the chocolate on road? You’d say he did the wrong thing, but even you can’t deny that if anyone ever deserved to win the factory, it was him. (Mischieviously) So dudette, what do you do when you see an unopened chocolate bar?”

Amita: “Hmm, you’re right. I’m only over-reacting. (Cheerful all of a sudden) Yeah, the chocolate bar? We grab it and eat it; we finish it off like no-one deserved it more!”

Both: “Ha ha ha ha....”

The laughter and a fresh gust of cool air from the balcony made them push the issue to the back of their minds.

Afterthoughts

What is morality? How much of it is right? Because after all excess of everything is bad. Grab Opportunities they say. Life is a game of Snakes and Ladders. Would you be a fool to leave the ladder and pursue the road the hard way? Then what justifies the snake-bites?

And if Parmita’s name appearing in the research paper is justified then what was that rickshaw-pullers fault? Wasn’t he right in taking that 100rs note? Wasn’t this a way of God helping him?

What is righteousness really?