Meet My Family

I spent the day at home. It is a rare occurrence, if you must know. What was special about the day was the fact that despite accomplishing truckloads of work, and putting off another truckload, I slept rather peacefully. That, again is a rare occurrence.

The reason why my closed eyes could breathe easy was the fact that I knew I will make time to finish this blogpost before the day ended. This one is important to me. And it has been pending sometime. I was scared that by the time I get down to writing it, I'll lose the feel of it all, that I will get over the sense of overwhelm that assails me 14 times a week, that I will forget the pieces of memory I am trying so hard to keep together. Today, I knew I will make time to put all these anxieties at rest, because, as of the present day, I have much to be happy, and peaceful about in life.

I have been away from this precious domain for quite sometime, not being able to record all the amazing things my life is blessed with at present. Like, this very moment, when I am sitting next to a window with a mug of tea, with crazy rains outside, and the faces of my beloved kids in my mind. Most of us experience this kind of peace with the memory of a lover, enhanced by the romance of rains and a cuppa with the aroma of shared moments. In my case, the whiff of romance is similar, just that, it is shared with an entire family which loves me more than anyone, anytime, anywhere in the world can. All of them together, all of them individually.

It all began with poetic soiree, almost a year back. A lot strange faces I met were soon going to become my family. The process of coming close has been epic, but more epic are these individuals I seek to write about. Let me talk of the family, I'll talk of the Collective in a later edition, someday. Or not, Poets' Collective is because all of them are. Meet these people who make my heart a mushy place :)

Sumedha
I don't know why I began with her name. It is probably because of a really sweet message she sent my way last night, which ended up making me feel like the luckiest being alive. She has been attending our meets for close to 8 months now, and she never spoke a word - just silently sat their observing the poets recite away to glory. Till the day she gifted me a lovely handmade pen stand, I could not have guessed her levels of affection. Gifts, sometimes, are important. And today, when she has started chattering in front of us, I can distinctly see oodles of love in her eyes for me, and for this little mad family we have all created together. White and pure, these are the words which come to my mind when I think of her. Her talent, I believe, is yet to blossom out in the open - but she is already my young one, literally and figuratively, and I have no doubts in my mind that she will do brilliantly well in life, yet stay humble about it.

Riya
Riya is a rare talent, one that is difficult to control or cage or even channelise. Her thoughts, revolutionary and provocative, will keep flowing over and also singe those who listen to her with an unwelcome ear. She holds in her heart ideas powerful enough to inspire not ours, but a generation of the future. She is someone who is elder for her years, and hence, who humbles me into listening. I have nothing to give her but all the encouragement in the world. She is her own guide, her own flame, and as travellers on a similar journey, I hope she keeps us close. And I miss her. And I think she knows it.

Sharad
I love getting photographed - and that is a world famous fact. What is little known, however, is the fact that I have been fortunate enough to chance upon some genuine behind camera talents, who make me look good, probably better than my own imaginations. Sharad is one such spark of brilliance who has just floored me with his insane levels of warmth and love. He calls me mummy whenever he feels cornered, and the alacrity it fills me with is more than visible on my face. I call him my minion - yellow, funny and happy. I've seen him cry in the middle of a monologue which remains among my most prized moments in life - when this kid admitted to having developed more respect for people around him after having joined the PC gang. In another bit of fond memory, he has learnt to give nice hugs now (and that is something, his girl - now or in future - has me to thank for!)

Divyaksh
He is the funniest brained person I know. His life is discontinuous fragment of satirical observations on the world around, each woven into a metaphor we now understand and associate with. He is a Jaya aunty fan. He has a hold on marketing and mythology logic with the same comfort. He sings bollywood numbers at inappropriate places and comments inadvisable nonsense much to the chagrin of fellow metro passengers. He talks non-stop. He is elder to me, yet gives me the respect of an elder sibling. He says he is a lost soul who feels like he's given direction when he is with us. He loves pink. And as far as I am concerned, he is the one person I feel the safest with.  He can keep me entertained for hours, he can contest my logic, and yet end on a very respectful note. Like everyone else, he is such an important part of my family, and my existence. I hope I can learn from his genius. Also, he is a dinosaur.

Nimisha
I have many sons, but she is the first daughter of my family. I consciously call her my beloved daughter, for she evokes in me a feeling akin to very motherly protectiveness. I feel like taking her in my arms and protecting her from all the ill-tendencies out there in the world. Not once, but many a times has it happened that she hugs me in a restaurant, and before you know it, she falls asleep then and there. And never have I had the heart to rouse her out of the very peaceful slumber reflected on her face. While she is talented and belligerent in her own ways, never has she stepped out of very humble and respectful mannerisms for me. It makes me feel blessed and responsible in equal measures. Till where I can push, I will do so for her. Oh, my only complaint to her - ladki phate kapde pehen ke baahar aa jaati hai. Needs a wardrobe overhaul asap. Rest, she can come to me with all her fears, and they'll be absorbed. Promise!

Anurag
We go back a long way, and I have seen this one go through many lows and highs and yet survive and come out strong. He is again one of those who is elder to me, but manages to give me the respect of didi. Legend has it that I scared him away when I met him the first time, but he managed to be brave enough to return to our kind of poetry, and has kept coming back since. A kind of syntactical distortion lends extreme levels of genius to his poetry, but these distortions exist because he has seen the anomalies and realities of life very closely. What I really want to tell him is that each time he has lived up to his own expectations, he has lived up to mine. And nothing will catch my attention more than his doing well in his own manner, on his own path. I do want to be a happy co-traveller, if possible?

Abhishek
I never call him Abhishek. Never. In public, or private, I love calling him Chintu. And I love it more when he resists this nickname from everyone else, except me. There is no end to how special I feel each time he lays bare his heart and soul in front of me, telling me all little details of things which have shaped him and his sensibilities. He is quite a sensitive and sensible soul, who is capable of taking care of himself, as well as those around him. In our close knit family, he fulfils many functions - a brother to one, a son to the other, a friend to another. The best thing about him? When I am not able to give him my full attention, he does not develop a grudge. He thanks and lauds me for absorbing so many stories of so many of them. I mean, the maturity strikes straight through my heart!

Neha
This girl stuns and surprises me each time. A pretty, sophisticated, ever-smiling girl - I could have never imagined a streak of activism in her, which I am being greeted with since past sometime. Neha is a completely paarivarik girl, who brings along the same values in my family. With her around, I can be sure that no malice and ill-will will enter our world. She expresses less, but when she does, I feel like floating above and beyond the moon. She holds me responsible for much, not realising that had she not been spreading energy around with her infectious smiles, our world would have been a lot less happier. She'll do well, with her smart mind and diligent heart, and she'll always remain a beautiful part of my life because of her almost selfless levels of trust and love for us.

Aniket
Aniket is not among the kids I have spent a lot of time with, but I know in my heart that whenever he finds a zone and opportunity, he comes running to us. For now, what I know is that I quite adore his kurta clad look, and his warm and respectful countenance. He seems to be someone I can trust with many responsibilities, and he will not disappoint me ever. I just want to see him around more, much more.

Shibani
Shibani is the latest entry in our madhouse. The fact that she is a poet-performer-par-excellence is known to all of Delhi. What is not known to all perhaps is that she is mad in equal measures to all of us, and that is why, probably, she feels at home with us. I did not expect to see her around so often, but I guess, she accepted us in her life before we accepted her in ours. With me, I remember feeling super-elated when she gave me a very warm hug post her performance at the last meet. Few things give me greater pleasure than being accepted in the lives of people with such faith. A few conversations later, I am cozy with the knowledge that she identifies with us, our cause, and is honest in her efforts to help us go places. In whatever little manners I can, I am there with her, for her :)

Shiva
She is a stunner. Again, I don't know much about her, but she has much depth and calm to her being. I have not heard many of her compositions, but the one poem I have heard, I keep hearing it daily. Because it calms me down. Because in the mad mayhem of technology, she is a pleasant pause, with old-world values and charm. Because her heart as pure as pure can be and that reflects in her words. Because I know I am not super-close to her, but she is going to be indispensable to our family, real soon.

Prateek
Umm. The caveat here is, anything I say will be saying too less. He began as a creep in my life, and has graduated to becoming an extremely creepy stalker now. I think very few people know me the way he does, because even when I am not letting out much, he is observing and absorbing. Prateek is an incredibly brave child, for he has chosen the difficult path of aspirations in life - but he is holding up. And so long as he is holding up, I am there with him to give the necessary push and guidance. Each time he thanks me for being around, my heart shrinks a little, because I feel I have not done enough for his genius to blossom. But he understands, I am sure he does. He is among the few who understands my affection as much as my irritations. Among my more mature sons, he is probably the one I will remember to call in my old age. To take care of me. Or just to give me a lot of grandchildren to while away my time with. (I will spoil them better than I spoilt you. And you cannot stop me.)

Ambikesh
Can I ever put in words the love we share? Can you do it? Can anyone else do it? You were the useless, pennyless  college student who made me suffer a loss of 500 bucks when you came in the first time. Those 500 rupees are the best investment I have made in life ever. You know Ambikesh, I often end up riling people when I feel they do not reciprocate or do enough for me after we've parted ways. In your case, you are always giving me 2x the love I can. I am already in your debt. I don't speak to anyone as much as I speak to you. I do not go to people to for advice or for sharing my lows as much as I do with you. And you manage to calm me down. Sometimes, you make me cry in confusion, because, when you tell me how much you and the others love me, my mind literally stops functioning because, I mean, how can this much happiness and love be possible. Being the cherophobe that I am, I shut out most of these positive feelings, lest they make me arrogant. But, you all do make me arrogant, you know. This is the best of a family I have experienced, and you're my elder son. It might all change tomorrow, but, you're the focus of my life for now. And even though you do not need it, I know, I'll be protecting you forever.

This is a good season of life. Among the best, but so precious, that I am scared to call it the best. Keep the family together, please?

A Philosopher on the Wrong Side of 40!

Hello!

Some books convince you on the unique nature of everything that constitutes you. Such books carve a very permanent niche in your heart and make you trust the author to an extent that you feel an acute urge to exhaust his/her entire literary corpus. The book I am referring to here is Fault In Our Stars written by the genius wordsmith, John Green. It wasn't a book which shook the earth for me - but it was definitely one which made me want to know more about the thought process of the writer. And yes, it lent me some very fascinating perspectives on this short life we lead.

I had jotted down my spontaneous reflections on the book about 5 months ago, and revisited them this morning while trying to positivise some persistent negativities. A very senior person called me a 'philosopher on the wrong side of 40' for those reflections, and when I remembered that, I caught myself smiling. And just like that, the day acquired a vibrant hue, along with the still persisting cynicism. Who says cynicism and vibrance can't coexist? Look at me and you'll know - I am wearing pink with a black-&-white top.

Here. My thoughts on Fault In Our Stars

"I have read the book and seen the movie, in that order. Quite obviously, I enjoyed the former more, since it left so much scope for me to think beyond the obvious tale of love between two protagonists whose love affair with life was about to end.

The Fault In Our Stars is so much more than the story of Hazel and Augustus - it is the tale of entire humanity struggling to come to terms with the nature of existence. Are we all tiny, ephemeral specks on the grandness that is the Universe, or are we all, in our own ways, altering the Universe in a manner that leaves a permanent impact?

By changing our perception on the disease called cancer, John Green succeeds in changing so much about the way we view struggles in life. Like cancer is a necessary evil on the road to evolution (arrived at through mutation of cells, few of which mutate to malignancy), struggles are a necessary force to makes us grow, to chisel us to perfection. In his lens, cancer is actually evolution, or progress/growth.

That our prism is biased towards pity is also brought out handsomely in the text. I will give away the plot if I say anymore here - read on to find out. But, we sympathise too easily to visible distresses. Not the best idea perhaps.

Let us live, breathe, and smile at the bounties which life gives us. Probably only he can live life unabashedly from whose existence the fear of death is eliminated. Iconic quotes are found by dozens in the book - I have a lot many scribbled in my journal.

The movie is good to the eyes, but fails the book completely in the sense of the sorrow it evokes in us, against a sense of triumph for having lived a life which NOONE else in the entire history of humanity is going to get an opportunity to live."

So, hmm. Life is a fair deal that God has given you. As John Green says "What makes life precious is that it ends."

P.S. - The next book I am picking up is An Abundance of Katherines. Do you want to tell me something about that one?

Aspiring Civil Servant? Read On!

Are you as perplexed as most others when you pick up the brand new UPSC Mains syllabus and hop from topic to topic? Like me, are you too jittery when you evaluate your prospects in CS(M) 2013 because you have no clue regarding the depth and extent of topics? Are you too vexed about finding the correct place which can give you both, guidance and knowledge to put you in a favourable position to crack UPSC Mains? Well, I just might be able to introduce you to something which takes care of a large chunk of the above worries.

In a pioneering effort, students have teamed up with determination and dedication to create a programme which is going to be extremely beneficial for those appearing for CS(M) 2013 examination. Called the "QUALITY IMPROVEMENT PROGRAMME" (QIP for short), this initiative comprises of a fortnight of rigorous classes which will cover important topics included in the fresh Mains syllabus, including
1. World Geography
2. Biodiversity and Environment
3. Disaster Management
4. Indian Geography (Paper I and III)
5. Other topics related to or studied in relation with the above.

If looked at carefully, you will realize that the above mentioned headings cover almost 400 out of 1000 marks reserved for General Studies papers, which, obviously, are the game changers this year. All of these will be squeezed into a fortnight of classes conducted by best faculty members with proven credentials, complete with interactive sessions and answer writing practice. Not just this, the group of students commited to making this course successful, are also working hard to get,  topics of Indian Economy and Ethics and Integrity incorporated in the programme.

The mentioned topics would be taken up by Mr. K Siddhartha who is real authority in Geography. Having contributed more than 20 quality and internationally acclaimed books and mentored hundreds of successful civil services candidates he does not need an introduction. The best part is that he has agreed upon taking the classes and thus one thing is assured of i.e. quality. In case of any further query concerning Mr. K siddharth you can visit his website: http://ksiddhartha.com/

This programme will commence on September 15th, 2013 and is open to students from all over. You may call numbers provided at the end of this post for queries and registration. What I find extremely amazing about this entire initiative is how it has resulted from proactive efforts of a student community dedicated towards cracking Civil Services examination, not in isolation, but by studying in tandem with the most sincere and deserving candidates. Classroom lectures aside, students, in return for a nominal fee, will also be given study material beyond which he/she will not be expected to refer anything else, also focussing on 100 model answers. Need I even mention that since all, from the planning to the final execution is in the hands of students, it is a profitless model aimed solely at creating a conducive academic environment to make the journey towards LBS easier.

Details of QIP can be sought by dropping me a mail (saumya.kulshreshtha@gmail.com) or by getting in touch with my good friend Vivek (kumarvivek.2012@dce.edu), or by calling any of the following numbers - 011-42430022, 42430033, 42430044, 9811506926

I am sure you will find many answers to problems related to Civil Services Preparation in QIP. Make sure you at least contact the afore-mentioned numbers to get a sense of this wonderful proactive step in the right direction.

Dholpur House 

In Your Nascent Days

Dear PACH, 

You know, luck lies in the availability of someone to love, someone to care for, someone to nurture, and someone to bask happily in the memories of. Luck lies in creating memories even when you are in the nascent stage of developing a relationship. Luck lies in being so content with the present that future can hold no disappointments; if anything, it can only tell you how smiles can be stretched beyond their extremes. 

Luck lies in knowing you, in being a part of you. In your nascent days, of course. You are not even a month old, but you are that cheerful infant whose chuckles reverberate day and night in my head. Like a lovely background score, to all my commitments in life.

At the last PACH, lost between hands which churn out most deft verses. 

You are not a commitment, you must always know. I ask myself, as much as others ask me - why do I spend so much time and energy into helping you grow, what is the incentive for being a PACH-pagal? The answer lies in the realm of intangible infinites. With you, incentives are such which will last me a lifetime. I commit myself to pecuniary incentives, so that they may fetch me comforts and happiness as a next step. With you, dear PACH, I leap straight into the arms of unadulterated bliss. I hence endeavour to stretch you ahead, while hoping you always sustain the innocence with which it all began. 

If anyone, it is this girl writing this rather gay letter, who is unaware of your trajectory, or your scope. All this girl wants to do is to chronicle all this overflowing mirth, before she gets used to it. These musings should have been given a vent on 14th July - the best PACH day ever - but there was an inertia of inaction, of just sitting down and running a montage of best moments, with nothing but absolute equanimity on my face. Oh, did you notice? In your nascent days, I already have a forever favourite tryst. You must be crazy, for you remind of the month I fell in love for the first time. Things were as sudden as now, I was as overwhelmed as now. Does it sound like an exaggeration? Well, it is after some six years that I have seen myself so simply, overwhelmingly happy. Try putting yourself in my shoes, and you will know what I am saying. If you can't, let me tell you, it is like falling in love again. 

So, why not poetry to express these thoughts, you ask? It is, because, about expression more than the form. I work well with prose, but someday, I will set you in verse, I promise. For now, I will let you know, how awesome you have been. Or wait, wasn't scintillating our word? It was. It is. You are. All shaky steps have culminated into fantastic dates with incredible people. It is the people who make you what you are - but you are scintillating, because you bring all those people together. You made me bring so many of diverse worlds together, and you gave me the privilege seeing these seemingly incongruous pieces fit together into a iridescent mosaic. You do know it is a personal account of my association with you, and nothing else, right? So this is me, talking from my vantage point, letting you know things as honestly as I can. There is a need for this honesty to pour out, for I know it makes me happy, and I reckon it will make some others happy too, especially in the moment they see me uncannily steal their thoughts. 

You, PACH, gave me the chance to see a silent, but ebullient girl dazzle people with her sophisticated oration. You introduced me to a girl whose pen flows with powerful might, but dwells on delicate sensibilities. She made me envious at first, but her words gave me the strength to love and appreciate that which is genuinely brilliant. You lured in a confessedly (and credibly) proud man, who could not save his soft side from surfacing. It was humbling, but enjoyable too, to see him shed a tear or two when PACH reached one of its crescendo moments. You showed me the subtlety of love between two people who are on the threshold of a life long nuptial agreement (God bless them). You gave fillip to the verses of someone who is perpetually hidden behind the lens, capturing others in their weird and cute states. You exposed the master of laughter - whose humour reflects on important learnings of life. He guffaws at his heaviness, only to make others feel so light. You drew many more people, who will soon creep into these musings, but not before I understand them well. 

You beguiled people who were not even poets, but came along to share songs, stories and smiles. Age no bar, profession no bar, you have not stopped causing a child-like zeal in many more who are awaiting your future manifestations, in and around Delhi. Will the PACH charisma work again? I don't know, and I don't care. I love you, but I have gained enough. All this, in your nascent, formative days. 

"My dear, we make new memories no more"

You know the most awesome thing you did? You made me trust myself to trust others. When I had secretly given up the thought of sharing my poems with this group of superlative poets, you gave me the confidence to take the plunge. I am glad, so glad I got the knowing nods and a tear in prize. Encouragement is secondary. My precious thoughts, I felt, had got their due. Oh, and you made me sing too, details of which are best left to kid around in all that playful space within me. 

You did not just bring the enchantment of poems with you, you brought the magic of stories, and the promise of mirth. You gave me a chance to let out secrets, and to mean something where I desired to feel important. You gave me new friends, who've made travelling in Delhi a slightly tougher task. You're aware that desires have no limits, but I'm so full that one extra smile, and it bounces off me to light up someone else's face. You know I can't stop talking about you to people, right?

And here you are, still a week away from being a month old. You must be crazy.

And to think, these are still your nascent days...

Still brewing...

PS - There has to be a postscript. I can't quite figure out what, but I know I am shutting up too soon. May be, keep up with this space for that one more priceless confession? 

Despair of Life

This, I can feel.
The dented love, eyes with steel
Parched lips, unable to speak
It will take sometime to heal

This, I admit
It ate you up, bit by bit
So long, so true, so pure, so mad
It now seems gross, a tad unfit.

I know, how you felt
Your smoky eyes, your skin velvet
The gentleness which you gently yearned
Your flaring nose when I’d forget.

I know you really tried
Held my arm despite the fright
First to notice signs of cracks
You pushed, you prayed night after night

Not you, I gave up first
I lowered myself to the settling dust
Purposeless, unhinged, unseen
Now consumed by love’s undying thirst

You see, I realized
Sans your presence, each moment despised
Searching love in darkened corners
Not my eyes, but my soul cried

I know, I made you sad
Pulled you down, drove you mad
With each fight your trust bled
You wondered, was it despair you wed.

But now, I am honest
I don’t seek the pain in your chest
I pain, I pine, I feel lost too
Can we overcome dejection’s tests?

You’re broken, and so am I
Let’s hold our hearts before they fly
Don’t you feel united in angst?
Won’t you, like me, without it, die?

Trust me, I will strive
To resuscitate, to make you alive
Through crazy fights and lonely nights
I learnt lessons powerful and concise
There can be no love as wise,
Nurtured without despair of life. 

Photo credits: Madhurjya Saikia, one of the finest photographers I have the fortune of knowing

The above poem was inspired by a friend, and his experiences with love. I have no idea where life will take him, but for now, he is hanging on. He is choosing to believe in love. He is waking up to the fact that essentially, love is all that there is. He is fighting for love - but the deal is, no one can win with love. One could only feel love after having lost everything to it, after having submitted to it. For this feeling and for him, I have the nicest wishes in my heart. 

May you all triumph in life
May you all lose to love. 

The Other Side of the Table by Madhumita Mukherjee - A Review

I am not a great fan of epistolary novels. I like it when letters are interspersed in the main narrative, like was the case with Monica Ali's Brick Lane, which I happened to read recently. However, an entire book made out of letters never sounded like an interesting prospect to me. How much about the story can letters unravel? I always had my skepticism, but today, I have been proven wrong in a beautiful manner.

The Other Side of the Table by Madhumita Mukherjee is a collection of letters exchanged between two

people separated by miles, spread over a decade. These two people are Abhi, a neurosurgeon in London, and Uma, a fresh medical student. These two people belong to two diverse continents, two separate cultures, even different age groups, but in these letters, they come close together, as if their worlds were not as distant as they physically seemed. Their letters are spaced over wide gaps of time, but they always carry a commitment that another would come. Abhi and Uma's ink dries onto paper to carry tales of a first crush, a heartbreak, a difficult marriage, a sad professional event, domestic experiences, ill-healths - most of all, these letters can be seen as the conversations of two beating hearts with each other.

This book pleasantly surprised me. The cover had a slightly dreamy look about it, and I ventured ahead expecting a light love story. However, that, precisely this book is not. This book is about a bond shared by people for whom time and space is a secondary concern. The letters written by either protagonist are vivid, and as a reader, you easily find yourself following the lives of Abhi and Uma closely, together and in isolation. These letters also contain with them a myriad of emotions - they are not mushy each time you read them. They convey elation, or sadness, or distress, or confusion lucidly. They carry hurt, as well as attachment. They carry trust. Above all, they carry commitment. And in a decade, they reveal a story which is simple, but rich with feelings. In this book, you can perceive two lives growing and changing. One of the best things about this book for me is the subtly. There is no overt melodrama, yet you will feel a lingering feeling of poignancy deep inside your heart once you are done with it. This book weaves your emotions into the plot, as it takes you on a journey where you discover a different kind of friendship, with its unique magic.

I could not have asked for a better book to read after my examinations. It is breezy, light and not very bulky. Yes, it contains letters spanning a decade, but they are followed at interval of months at a stretch. At least once while reading this book, you will wish you had that one pen-friend, who would just listen to each thing you had to say, the way you said it and who promised to always lurk there for you. For all the nice moments this book gave me, I think I would like to award it 3.5 stars on 5.

Book Details - 
Author - Madhumita Mukherjee
Publisher - Fingerprint
Published - 2012
Book Source - Review Copy
Genre - Epistolary/Romance
Price - Rs. 195
Pages - 240

Green Is The Colour!

Have you heard of a strange phenomenon where a predator befriended its prey? I am forgetting the minute details, but it so happened in a recent incident somewhere in  theinterior hinterland of India that a wolf, who, while pursuing his quarry, a goat, fell into a deep ditch along with it. Rather than attack and devour his now confined prey, the wolf and goat were found in a perfectly amiable condition by surrounding villagers the next day. My fantasy guess is, the wolf and the goat might’ve helped each other find a way out. Anyway, truth is self-preservation took precedence over hunger qualms. The animals ‘adapted’.

All animals, with the glaring exception of homo sapiens, have learnt the art of perfect harmonious cohabitation with animate and inanimate elements of their surroundings. Even a lethal carnivore would not hunt for pleasure’s sake; if satiated, he would allow without care for a whole herd of prey to pass by. So have discovered animal behavioral scientists. Even our ancestors had practiced and advocated harmonious coexistence with nature. For them, each animal, even plants were a part of the larger family order Providence itself has ordained for us. However, somewhere during evolution, our very race lost touch. In a bid to prove our mental (intellectual) superiority, we became the predators hell bent upon feeding on those very constituents of Nature which caused and sustained our existence.

Sustainable Development is one of the key governance issues which each government across the world has to deal with both at a macro and micro level. I understand the ‘janta’, masses form an indispensable component of any country’s democratic set up, considering just democracies for the time being. The definition of public is not confined to their role and responsibility as the electorate. That is to say, our act on the democratic stage does not end with casting our vote. It goes beyond, and extends up to the point where we adopt the character of a citizen who acts responsibly in all spheres of life. Sustainable Development, growth while preserving resources so as not to encroach upon the endowments of future generations, as a concept encompasses many nuanced, technical aspect which the government has routinely been failing at throwing enough light on. In the same sphere, civil society activists have been doing a remarkable job of protecting, preserving and propagating awareness about what is our natural heritage.

However, these scribbles are not to lambast the government for what is another possible area of policy paralysis. Or of yawning gaps between policy and practice. We, as a nation, pride upon on our vast and diverse resource rich state. Scant do we pay regard to the possible problem that are woven into the fabric of that very diversity. Our country is such where the topography changes every ten steps (little exaggeration, if you permit please), and cultural identities and practices change sooner. Talking of curbing carbon emissions at a global stage is one thing; developing action plans for what could be a major problem plaguing just one sequestered area in a nondescript corner of our country quite another. Take the example of the Ladakh valley, where environmental problems are a particularly new phenomenon, caused largely due to the massive influx of tourists in the area. Now, since Leh-Ladakh are not playgrounds from which political gains could be usurped, regards paid to the local issues of this place which boasts of having evolved its own specialized gene pool are nothing more than mere lip service. Consequently, the onus for preservation and prevention falls on indigenous population and motivated volunteer groups.

That aside, environmental preservation is one area of activism all of us can partake in, even within the smug confines of our home. Let not shifting responsibility become a favorite sport as far as concerns of or dwindling resources go. I’m sure most of us reading this article would be conscientious, educated, and liberated people doing their bit for the environment. April 22 is celebrated as the Earth Day each year, the concept pioneered by John McConell, and crystallized by U. Thant, former Secretary General of United Nations. What better time can you find to heed the call of Mother Nature for protection? Do me a favour. Choose one from the below listed many pledges which are simple to observe and healthy to adopt as permanent practices in the interest of our depleting ecology. I think I am going to stick to most of them, and more.

I pledge to translate Earth Day messages to local language and spread them among as many as I can.

I pledge to use paper carefully and responsibly and motivate others to do the same.

I pledge to become the Electricity Nazi at home and ensure that no wastage occurs under my nose.

I pledge to celebrate my birthday (which is around the corner) by planting a tree.

I pledge to celebrate birthdays of my friends by gifting them saplings.

I pledge to reduce the consumption of plastic unless where absolutely indispensable.

I pledge to never, ever, ever, ever litter anywhere I go, even if the place seems like a garbage dump already.

I pledge to not find it below my dignity to be corrected on practices against the environment and assume responsibility for undoing potentially harmful actions of mine.

I pledge to make environment a bigger cause in my heart and mobilize support for the same.

I pledge to never give into practices like smoking which harm not just me, but also others and the environment through a passive route.

I pledge to use public transport as much as possible.

I pledge, particularly me, to read up on green legislations and green social sector initiatives so that I can call myself a green literate before I go onto spilling gyan about green practices to others.

Image Source - Aaqib Raza Khan photography. 

For You, A Thousand Times Over

No.

I do not relish the sound of those drums.

They hurt my ear, I prefer gentle strums.

But holding your hand,

I’ll learn to like this band,

If it is loudness which you prefer

For you, my dear, a thousand times over.

Yes.

I like raindrops tickling my nose

You dread the downpour, the chilly wind which blows,

I want go out and dance with you

Reluctance in your eyes gives me cue

I close the door, shut out the drizzles,

For you, my dear, a thousand times over.

No.

Cold is not my greatest friend

But your home is a snow covered land

I’ve been nourished under the scorching sun

When you went out, you came back burnt

I’m not sure how, but I will brave the winter

For you, my dear, a thousand times over.

Yes.

You love me as much as I love you

Here’s bliss aplenty, and pains very few

You’ve held my hand in every strife

And said, “Loving you is a way of life”

Not once, but from when I can remember,

Your voice has assured, always, forever,

“For you, my sweetheart, a thousand times over.”

(This  poem has been previously been published in The Viewspaper. You can find it at this link - http://theviewspaper.net/for-you-a-thousand-times-over/)