of a man among boys

chapewadi. A small village on the foothills of the mighty Sahyadris. Nine punters. A map. A compass. And yes bagful of khakras. They passed by a local school. It was about time for the mid-day meal. The punters entered the school building . A single classroom comprised of 7 classes. Children seated on the floor,grouped accordingly. The walls were painted with typically offwhite chuna. Leakages from the top were quiet visible . Random charts hung from the walls. A small picture of the father of the nation and a small portrait of goddess saraswati thronged the side walls. Two teachers manned the classroom . Equally clueless as the punters were...

The punters wanted to interact with the kids. Spend some time.But the kids looked intimidated. Secretly suspecting whether it was the much dreaded inspection. one of the punters offered them sweets . none of the kids moved forward.refusing to accept. A moment of stillness prevailed.but soon was to pass by. The silence was overpowered by too strong an urge to enjoy the sweet.too tempting and yes a rarity indeed. perfectly human i thought,watching from the sidelines. Quickly, the kids surrounded the punter offering sweets. I looked on.A smile on my face. Enjoying this small moment of "happyness".

He stood there, away from the crowd. At first looked just another kid.Thin,short and wheatish in complexion.impeccably dressed in the khakis. hair heavily oiled and neatly combed. a dot of vermilion on the forehead. holding a slate in one hand and a jhola with the other.something u could not ignore was the innocence that hit you like the rays from the thousand suns .he was glued to the free food on offer.in a subtle way his eyes tracing his friends and the chaos therein. you could sense that strong craving in his eyes too . but unlike the rest he was not going to create a commotion.the immense self respect far more overpowering than what was on offer.he shook his head and left. before i could realise, i was stung by the dignity on display. stumped by the mature head on such a young shoulder. i stood there fixed to the ground,still trying to come to terms with what had hit me .....

The punters took the leave and left . walked many a miles. visited many a schools . interacted with lots of children . but few a breed like him.. they were indeed rare to find. for they were men among boys.

adios.

vijay diwas

these brave soldiers who fought the kargil war on mountaineous terrains 16,000 ft above the sea level and under adverse climatic conditions .the least we can do is remember them and pay our humble salutations ....

Random Quote

"no power can stop an idea whose time has come ....."

-Victor Hugo.

humbled

After hours of ascend, you are finally atop Mhasai. A plateau range, as flat as it can get, giving you the majestic view of the mighty sahyadris .Standing der on the edge,overlooking the beautiful green ocean, every drop of perspiration on the forehead seems worth the effort. A smile appears on ur face. Ders dis feeling of being on top of the world. A slender arrogance of having conquered, achieved something. . You begin to dwell on this new found sense of accomplishment, on a high.

By this time the sun is almost at the horizon. A river of red slowly makes its way across the vast white ocean above . u notice, a sudden surge of dark clouds ,rushing towards you. the breezing cool wind gets stronger. threatening to overpower . It roars, almost to the point of being deafening . u look in awe as he paints the reddened white canvas with shades of black. u look upon, as he works on a range of hues, the canvas getting increasingly darker. You are lost. Engulfed by a barrage of emotions, resonating in the mindspace. For a moment or two you are even Scared. u continue to stare at the magnificent work of art. There is a restless surge within, still trying to come in terms with the enormity on witness.u begin wonder whether a lifetime would suffice to understand the magnitude of the artistic brilliance on display. what follows is a moment of serenity.a sense of calmness prevails. Peace. In a subtle way,he puts across the message.. You realize how insignificant you are. you are humbled by his grandeour. plain humbled. the smile resurfaces on ur face.

Amen.

....

long time and no updates .heres an attempt to revive my blog which is long dead.....trying to break thru the vicious cycles thriving upon sheer laziness.

just the other day ,blog-hopping, found this amazing piece of doodle.plain brilliant.



p.s-all credits to this doodle goes to mr. kulkarni

beauty lies within

saw an old lady at dadar station begging for alms, with an unforgetable aura arnd her .tried my best to pen down what i saw.....

dark black eyes,
with the covering of cataract;

deep cheeks and a wrinkled face;

thousand small lines,
running deep in every direction;

grey hair with shades of black;

dark pale skin,
burnt by a thousand suns;

teeth some left, pitted and brown;

thick veins flowing deep,
perhaps the only sign of life;


a stick in hand &
a humble rugged nine yard saree.

and then, she gave me that smile:

such energy,such intensity,
such aura ,such charm,
such radiance,i had never seen.

mesmerized i was,for a while
for the beauty that was within,
under the surface it lies
there in the soul,beneath that skin.

......

"Life is a game. God loves the winner, stands by the loser, but hates the viewer. So, be the player."