09 December, 2010

Let Us Today

Inspired from the great man, Sri Rabindranath Tagore...


Let Us Today

Let us today, break the shackles of routine
and be guided by the light of the unknown
do something our heart craves for
without caring about the thoughts of the world
let us today, live a day for ourselves.

Let us, wake up today, and hug those whom we love
tell them what they mean to us
and how their presence make our lives so liveable
how their smile becomes a reason for us to stay blissful
not because of what they are, but because what we are when with them.
How their existence becomes a reason for us to grow
into something better than we perceive ourselves to be
how their faith and trust in our capabilities
makes us transcend our own boundaries
and how the fear of their loss, makes us weep sometimes in despair.
We never told them how we feel for them,
perhaps we did not get the time
perhaps we considered it lunatic
but let us, today tell them their meaning in our lives.
Who knows? They might need those words themselves now.

Let us today, shout out in joy
and feel blissful for the pleasures life has endowed
Not thinking of being judged by the crowd
but simply ecstatic for what we’ve received
Let us today, say thanks to God
And praise him for his beautiful creation
which, maybe ignored till now
or perhaps we never got the time to stop by and look
but let us today, look at His miracle
and look at ourselves
and praise Him for the blessings and beauty he has provided.

Let us today, not feel the fear of deserting the herd
and walk our own paths, even if alone
for the life we have, is too precious to be lived
according to someone else’s dreams
who themselves lived the life of a different else
Let us walk our own paths, and feel confident,
that we’d not be walking alone the path of righteousness
That somewhere down the lane, we’d find someone
willing to walk by our sides
But till then, let us walk our own paths
Walk for what we believe in
let us today, not be affected by the narrow judgement of the wide crowd
and walk our own paths, for what we believe in.

Let us today, learn to have faith
in the words of people we respect
that everything heard and said, need not have an explanation
that there are some things, which words cannot justify
that sometimes, it’s only the words of another we should rely upon
Let us not fall into a trap of irrational belief
of superstitions and irrational visions
But let us today, have faith when one says
that everything’s gonna be alright
that the world will be a better place to live in
that you can be the change you wish to see
that the intellectual of one person may someday surpass the might of a million
that the voice which seldom speaks from your heart is the inner calling you must follow
that when you judge yourself too harshly, you rip a part from your own self
that few people actually care about the way you are, and would like to help.
Sometimes, you cannot find proof in everything you hear
but you’ve got to have faith, in people you hold dear.

Let us today, tear off the cobwebs around us
and wake up to a new reality
breaking the chains of routine
walking into a new future
Building a new world.
It seems difficult at first,
to break the boundaries of habit you’ve so skilfully kneaded around yourself
wrapped in the warmth of tradition
I seems difficult to go beyond
but a call for change has been made
and it’s your duty to hear the call
for one life is all what you get
either to be the change, and do what you wish for
or become the cobweb of your own boundations.

-         Vishal Gupta
November 21st, 2010

15 November, 2010

09 November, 2010

Alisha

This one's for my dear sister. I like it. Hope you like it too :)

Siddharth

Hey dude. Sorry for the delay. It was a long name you know. Hope you like it.

Rupal

This one's for you. Hope you like it.

19 October, 2010

Back Home

Away from home
I feel afraid
‘coz no one’s here
to care for me

Away from home
‘m incomplete
I have no one
to say its k

I miss my mum
her faith on me
her selfless love
her tender touch

I miss mah dad
his silence serene
his wise advice
everything for me

I am away
from my sis
a friend in tides
a mother in love

Today, I wanna be back
Back where I belong to
To the place, I owe my life
Life, which made me go away

I know I’m here
so I can be back again
but from what I see
I go further away as I walk

Bound now in cobwebs
I find it hard to break-free
but no one understands that I
really do want to go back to those who need me

Tired from the harsh works and words
drenched in sweat and humiliation
I strive, I long for my mother’s lap
where I slept blissfully, unaware of the worries of the world

I do wish once more
to see the proud eyes of my father
what he sees from them, I long to find out
is it his child he carried on his shoulders once
or is it a boy, becoming a man

My sister, my constant support
whose words never failed to guide
whose unquestioned judgement, was taken unscathed
and her warm hug took all worry away
whenever I came home

I miss them all, more and more
I miss the beautiful place called home
I want to be back, I feel afraid
I want to be back, where someone says its k.

-         Vishal Gupta
October 3, 2010

01 October, 2010

Kota Days

My Tribute to the Days I spent in the City of dreams. To the land called "KOTA."

14 September, 2010

The Day I Cared

Yesterday, was another day,
when I chose not to care
where the crowd went, I did not follow
to stand alone I dared.

I missed the laughs the fun the cheer
I missed the presence, of someone near
But rowed my boat I did with delight
And altogether, had a different life.

Yesterday, I was so alone
so free, I had no boundation on my own
I slept peacefully, with no regret
‘coz each passing day, I lived my best.

I held my head high with panache
as I knew I could not go wrong
I had faith in my own eyes to see myself
and dishonoured the words of the world.

I built a path, of my own making
walked on, alone, the path not taken.
Gleefully I would rejoice
for I had no regret, and my life was my choice.

Yesterday, I could not care
if there was a soul beside me
Faith on self was my walking stick
No one else’s perspective I’d bothered to see.


Today, is a different day
when I’ve joined a herd in the mid
With everyone everywhere
I don’t even hear, what I myself related.

I am one amongst the many now
yet I offer no disparity
no one was affected by my presence
not me, nor the general tendencies.

Trying to be one in the crowd
I judge myself now by someone else’s eyes
How was I to find out?
The crowd cares not for such petite strives.

Regardless of what I do
I just cannot come into the view
and even if I’m able to accomplish the feat
it’s now of a genial cause.

I’ve now got to follow the pack
even if its will I lack
and the people outside whom the pack mocks I see
standing there freely, like once I used to be.

This united pack walks with me
but did not catch me when I fell
and dust their hands out of such falls
and walk right past me wishing me well.

I did get a hand in the crowd
I got it when the hand was needy
else the deaf hand, unaware of my subsistence
hath walked in the crowd, right beside me.

Here in the crowd
everyone walks together
but every man for himself is the motto
when life has anything to offer.

I see now the crowd doesn’t walk
it runs a race of rats
some are fooled by this cunning deceit
and help the running rats to the mast.


Today, I’ve started to care
and I’m no more lonely
but it has come at a cost I cannot bear
and I choose to return, to MY path
MY way, knowing, that I was right
having faith, on my own self
they say alone I shall be crushed
but in the crowd, I’m suffocated
and I choose lonely defeat, over letting my soul die in the pack
I choose to be alone, by myself
free independent, once again
so that, when I go to bed again
I know, I’ve lived, my own life.

-         Vishal Gupta
September 14th, 2010

03 September, 2010

Frustt

Abused
Famished
Hurt
Punished

Stripped off the very foundations of dignity
Barred intellect from every reason
Rambling, on old charred orthodox rules
Fear, clutching the throat with each passing breath.

The more one draws in this sully air
The more is he mutated
Into a daft, absonant, irrational beast
roams in pack, weak when apart.

They say they instruct us
for harsh times to come
who tells them that hard times
in every life are inevitable.

Lost smiles, lost freedom, lost is peace of mind
Lost is the love, one once felt for life
Lost is faith, one once had on self
Bewildered, one wanders in wonder
whether to continue in the lunacy of the realm
or go walk on, alone.

-          Vishal Gupta
August 6th, 2010

20 August, 2010

Friday, The 13th

This is a story I wrote for a competition in IIT Kharagpur. Hope you like it...


Friday, The 13th

I saw her. She looked lovely, like always. This was the day, I could see it in her eyes. She looked at me. Smiled. I smiled at her too. Slowly, she moved closer to me. Checked, if I was ready. To be honest, I was never more prepared. She sat beside me. Slowly speaking, she said,
“The time has come dear. I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
I looked at the fire in her eyes. I knew this was it. Yet, I could do nothing but just look at her. Even now her stunning appearance affected my senses as it did on the first time I’d seen her. Beautiful black gown delicately covering her slender body. God! I knew then what love was. But today was different. Different from any other day we’d seen before. She opened the drawer. I knew what she needed. I’d personally made sure last night that she finds the instrument in good shape. I looked at her as she devoured the sight of it. I knew this was the last time I was seeing this gleeful look on her face. Everything would be different after this. Seems so unreal how only one night could change everything. But after last night, I myself am surprised to believe in my own existence.

Feburary 13th, 2009. 1:30 AM. Friday.
It was the most memorable night I ever had. It had been so long since we’d been together. Alone. Me, and Shreya. But tonight we were together again. And what a time we had. We’d talked, danced, cooked, ate, everything. I always told her that I loved her more than she loved me. Tonight, I was to know how true I was. Safely resting in my arms that night she told Amit how she was going to come back to him. Once she got rid of the old man with nothing to offer other than his wealth, she’d be back to him. She smiled after this. It was the same smiled which once made me fall in love with her. This time though, it could not produce the same effect. After a cold silence of 30 seconds, Amit asked.
“When do you plan to get rid of your old man?”
“When do you want me to?” Came the direct reply.
“Tomorrow.”
All the old man could hear was a light giggle. After which he could hear heartbeats. Two distinct rhythms. One light, composed, peaceful. Of pleasure and ecstasy. Another of regret, sadness, purposefulness. The same purposeful heartbeats which the other heart would have the next morning.

She looked at the blade for the last time. It was the last time she was experiencing thoughts which her mind was guiding. I had nothing left to loose. It was her turn. The smile was still on her face. A smile she’d carry for the rest of her mournful life. Her final words,
“Goodbye Old Man.”
She lifted the blade, pulled off the blanket and then, everything drowned in her scream. She dropped at the sight of the blood. The spotless knife lay shining beside her.

-          Vishal Gupta

03 August, 2010

Saudade

I  remember the night,
I’d asked you to go
you were much surprised
I was yours no more.

You kept calling me back
I did not return
I wouldn’t you knew
Alone your heart had burnt.

I had promised you,
To never let you go
Still I know it was me
How could I be so low.

I lost your trust
I lost love
I lost a friend
It all came to an end.

Now I have broken you
and you have gone afar
Still I don’t know why
Misses you my heart.

But you did not leave alone
A part of me went with you
Now I smile no more
What have you done to me.

Thinking of your eyes
Still makes me cry
And those lovely moments
Ask if it all was a lie.

Now I walk alone
On the roads of life
I find no one else
To fill my heart’s void.

I feel unready
to find someone new
Just so that I don’t hurt her
As I’d hurt you.

It feels alone
I’m not used to this
Without you by my side
I have no shoulder to cry.

But I can’t call you back
I can’t find someone else
I don’t know how it’ll be
I can’t go on like this.

I am mush ashamed
for what I have done
but even you understand
my intents weren’t wrong.

I can neither go on
Nor can I stay
I can just lament
On the blunder I made.

Now I don’t find trust
Not even for myself
And all I ask you
Is pardon for me.

Please forgive me
And be my friend
Just as it used to be
We can have it you’ll see.

We’ll be back
Just as before
And be merry again
and be assertive of self.
And be not alone
We’ll be there
for one another
And we’ll be back
as we were before.
Be passionate again
and work wonders
‘cause only when we’re over grief
we can work our best.

Now I take thy leave
Saying all I had
Now I feel some burden
lifted from my back.

I bid you goodbye
Only to find you back
And I would love to see
You having gotten over me.

-          Vishal Gupta

Teardrops

Thinking of you, my mind goes numb
I can’t tell you what I feel
If you knew, what you mean to me
You could never be away free

I hide it all, keep it from you
I know not what should I do
But I can’t tell you, I cry for you
I just can’t be this true.

You make me smile, still I feel weak in my heart
and once you go all I’m left with
are teardrops on my guitar
are teardrops on my guitar
are teardrops on my guitar.

I stay awake, through the night
just hoping you’d call by
I could spend my life, trying to
just to see again you smile

I know there is, something wrong
I don’t know what is right
But in the crowd, when you smile and laugh
I know that is divine

I try to tell, what I feel for you
but words I cannot gather
and when I’m finally able to write, all I’m left with
are teardrops on my letter
are teardrops on my letter
are teardrops on my letter.

I feel some pain, I can’t explain
when you ask me to go away
Though I know, you mean it not
still it just rips me apart

If you knew, what I think of you
you would never say so again
but dear, for me only
I can’t see you change

So once again, I stay quiet
thinking of you, I cry
and what remains when I calm down
are teardrops by my side
are teardrops by my side
are teardrops by my side.

When I hurt you, I feel it too
but there’s nothing I can do
I never meant, to wound your heart
but now you’re feeling blue

I try to, but I can’t improve
I don’t wanna change you too
So you tell me, what should I do
when I can’t live without you

So whatever you say, I’m ready to do
as I know I can trust you
But if you go, you would never see
the teardrops you left me
the teardrops you left me
the teardrops you left me

Thinking of you, my mind goes numb
I can’t tell you what I feel
If you knew, what you mean to me
You could never be away free

I hide it all, keep it from you
I know not what should I do
But I can’t tell you, I cry for you
I just can’t be this true.

You make me smile, still I feel weak in my heart
and once you go all I’m left with
are teardrops on my guitar
are teardrops on my guitar
are teardrops on my guitar.

Vishal Gupta

29 June, 2010

Aakriti

Here’s to my bestest friend. Aakriti Jain. J


23 June, 2010

Piyush

Here’s an ambigram dedicated to my dear friend Piyush. J

-          Vishal Gupta

22 June, 2010

The Warrior

Churned, hurt, wounded, crushed
he returned from the day’s battles
To take some rest and heal himself
before he’s called for the next day’s battle.

He lies on his back and watches the ceiling
his mind traumatised
too well aware of his being as a soldier
he has no thoughts nor feelings.

The black sky covers his coarse body
blackened by stains of mud and blood
The silent night makes no effort
to disrupt the blankness in his mind.

He feels a pain in his arm
and finds a trivial slice of metal
penetrated deep down into his flesh
Like a young ave hiding deep inside its nest
in absence of its parents
scared to look out to the harsh world
scared to open its eyes, and find its parents not there.
The warrior appreciates his reward for a moment
Then keeps his hand back down
“The pain will go soon,” he thinks
It pains him more to think it will.

He looks at his palm and closes his eyes
A single drop of tear leaves him
trickling down his face it gives him a shiver
Like trickled down once a finger from that palm
He wouldn’t have shed that precious drop had he been unaware
that what made him loose himself was fired by someone his own
A brutal error by a beloved comrade
To compensate his loss he was bequeathed
tears and empathy and pity and kindness
Each tear charred his soul
like acid mercilessly penetrating into the depths of metal
eating it as it proceeds
till the strong metal is burned and crushed
into a useless piece of scrap
of no value, of no use
till it is burned and moulded and cast again.

He doesn’t realise when the pain leaves his psyche
and a void again takes over
and again he hears the silence
before he’s called for the next day’s battle.

-          Vishal Gupta
June 22, 2010

18 March, 2010

Nomadic Existence - Part 6

MMM Hall of Residence. I’d been here many times but I never in my wildest dreams thought that I’d have to stay in this. There were no seniors here. No interaction with seniors. No wing culture. No late night parties. Just rooms. Scores and scores of rooms. It is the largest Hall in the campus with 800 rooms, i.e. capacity for 1600 students. The Hall is divided into four blocks each with 200 rooms equally divided in four floors. There are two messy messes, each for two blocks with the worst foos imaginable by the human brain. Some people disagree. They say normal human beings can’t even imagine the quality of the food served here. Nah, it was more like thatwe were served to the food. However, it all made MMM sound very organized.

It was not. Students were put there randomly and there were M.Tech students spread throughout. I wouldn’t have had a problem with this if there hadn’t been a ‘culture’ in MMM that undergraduates did not talk with postgraduate students and 25 year olds living in between 18 year olds did somehow prevent a ‘wing’ from forming. So people here interacted with each other less than that in my previous hall. Plus, there were no extra curricular events by the hall. In my previous hall there was so much to do that I would find myself running like Haile Gebrselassie throughout the day and here all people do except going to classes is… ummm… well there’s nothing exactly people do here! They live. And I was going to become one of them. Maybe. After going through the ways of Kharagpur last semester (with all my luggage that is) I’d learnt a very important lesson. And the song being played in the car can express it all in perfect words,

‘Hum hain is pal yahan. Jaane ho kal, kahan.’

The driver helped a lot in loading mine and Sagar’s stuff into the car. Most of the space was taken by the two mattresses we had. I wondered if I’d been insane to think that I found these to be small once upon a time. Then we had four big suitcases, two big bags and a lot of loose stuff like stationary, copies, calculators, extension cables, cell phone chargers, footwear, laundry bags, toiletries (including buckets), brooms, etc. We decided to get the room cleaned before shifting in and voila, when we opened the door we found that the room was already occupied by scores of extra pillows, mattresses, buckets, etc which the hall sells to new boarders. We had been ‘by mistake’ allotted that room. So after going through all the paperwork again we were given RR – 109. We got it cleaned and shifted in. Then I sent the driver back home. God! He’d helped us like a coolie. I immediately called up dad asking him if I should give something to him. When that was done I came back and started unpacking. I wanted to settle in as fast as possible as I hate to see things messed up and disorganized. After ten minutes when we closed the door we found that the almirah was locked. We went to the Hall office again and even they did not have the key to it. So we decided on breaking the lock and as soon as the lock was broken we saw a treasure of beer bottles and cigarette packets. The manager standing behind said an “OOPS” loud enough to make Sagar jump and quickly ran away. We were left standing there trying to understand what just happened. Another question on my mind was if the manager would let us keep the beer or would negotiate. Maybe the beer was his and he was scared because we had caught him. I wouldn’t have told anyone if he gave me a few bottles. But my fantasies were interrupted by his screeching voice, ‘Err boys, there has been a mistake. This room is already allotted to someone. They’re not back from the winter vacations yet. There is some problem with the computer. You boys have to shift to RR – 310.’

Silence. After 30 seconds of cold silence where I had closed my eyes counting numbers trying to calm down, I finally said, “But this is wrong. We have shifted here. There is too much stuff. We cant shift AGAIN.”

“But this room has already been allotted to someone else.”

“They can come back and go to RR – 310. There’s not much stuff they’d have to take from here. We’d have to shift with all this luggage you see here.”

“But they have been living here. It’s a computer fault. This room has not been allotted to you. I’ll send my boys to help you shift.”

After 15 minutes of bargaining we finally got our rights. The new room would be cleaned and our stuff would be shifted by the Hall within one hour. Still we had to be along with anyone taking our bags and we had to run up and down the stairs ten times before finally everything was done. I unpacked quickly. I had reached Kharagpur at 11 AM and now it was 6 when I finally had some rest. The room is good apart from a non functional tube light, a crow nest in the bathroom, a leaking tap and no friends. Still, I found the room better than any of the ones I’d previously been through. So I began a new semester in a new room waiting for the new year party. I don’t see any reason if by which I can be made to shift again but you never know. I’ve come to believe that living in IIT is quite similar to the nomadic culture. The only difference is that we use Gtalk instead of yelling YULULULU HU HA HE to communicate. You never know where you’ll be tomorrow.

05 March, 2010

Nomadic Existence - Part 5



What the Hell!


Why me. I’d had enough of trauma already. Shifting between cramped rooms. Do they realize I have to shift with all my stuff. From Bedding to pencil. Everything and if you reading there has never shifted with all your luggage, then you have no idea what it feels like. Specially if you do it yourself without those manly workers shown in cartoons. Now I had to shift to a wing with only few people I know. I had few options. I considered each.
  • Nitin – Nah, he’s a drunkard. Cant have him coming back at night all drunk to irritate me.
  • Utkarsh – Nice fella. But isn’t he gay?
  • Sagar – Sabu. 6’5’’
  • Tanmay – Nice guy apart from the fact he cant speak without slangs.
Ultimately I settled for Sagar, ‘cause he’s a nice guy plus he chose me and I thought its better to shift before he invites someone else. I took the decision. Sabu clearly stated he was not going to help me shift as he was ‘not well.’ So I shifted all by myself again. I’m getting good at this. This time I took only four hours. And there I was. B-104. My new adobe for the rest of my stay in this hall… hopefully.
Now this new roomie is cool. Is 6’5’’ tall but acts like a kid. He’s a tech freak, almost all IITians are which makes me feel they’re from a different planet, or maybe I am. Anyways he learnt it real fast that I really don’t care if google launched a new plugin by which I can see my emails on my mobile phone and he found this really odd. Almost all IITians found me odd in this respect. Like I had no ‘passion’ for new technology. Hell passion. These people don’t understand the difference between passion and frenzy. So here I was, sharing an internet connection with Sagar through a wi-fi network created by his computer. I thought I had a problem with a small bed. He used to sleep with his legs falling at the edge of my bed which was 3.5 feet away from his bed. Plus, the unbelievable feat – this 6’5’’ monster took a bath everyday. EVERYDAY. And people find ME odd! In case you don’t know, most IITians will not waste precious water in something insignificant as bathing. Twice a week bathing was found sufficient. Some people find that grouse. But when you have four bathrooms for fifty people sixty meters away from the room with damped walls, cold water whose color is anything but transparent and a variety of rare living creatures bathing with you which are found only in the intellectual environment of IIT, you don’t consider bathing as an everyday part of your IIT existence. But this guy, who could use the whole tank of the hall alone for bathing once; bathed everyday. No wonder we have water shortage here. But he was a good guy. He had made up all the patches on the door to our room by simple glue and did it all in one night. He had smuggled out an extra tube light for the room which came quite in handy when we needed to block the windows from opening as they had no hooks; and leaving them open would give the mosquitoes luxury of enjoying the ostentatious room we paid for. So there I was. Living with Sagar. Life was peaceful once more. Until, the inevitable happened.
It was a headache. I couldn’t take it anymore. After a heavy day of labs and classes, here I was trying to tell my roomie that I was least interested in knowing if Bill Gates had stolen all the ideas of Windows 7 from Apple. But it seemed like he had spent three hours collecting information and videos about Bill Gates’ perfidy and believed I had no right to breathe without knowing the ‘facts.’ I was a bit relieved when Tanmay came running to us. Due to public readership, I cant tell you his exact words. But between all the curses I just understood that there was a new notice which I should’ve seen by now. He was looking real worried and practically dragged us out of the room. Almost all the first years were standing near the notice board. I spotted it at the first sight.
“All first years are to be shifted to MMM Hall of Residence before the commencement of Spring semester 2009-10. All the keys of the rooms are to be given to the Warden before shifting and meals shall be provided in MMM Hall of Residence from the next semester.”
I was too shocked to think about my own feelings. I looked at Sagar instead. He stood as if he’d been slapped in the face. No reason stated. We had to shift and we could do nothing apart from shifting. Well, we could go on a hunger strike, or commit suicide, or make a rally or protest, but it’d be easier to plainly shift without speaking a word. So I went to the Warden of my Hall and spoke.
“What are the new room numbers?”
“That is a matter of concern of MMM. Go there and ask.”
That was done. Now I had to go to MMM. I had avoided it once but as they say, bad luck is like a importunate unsolicited guest and if that was too much English for you then understand that bad luck is just like the HMC, which won’t leave any chance of tormenting the students. But there was nothing I could do about it and I was getting used to this shifting business. Yes, I was hurt, but that doesn’t matter to the people who matter. I’d worked for this Hall, participated in events, people recognized me from the Hall and I was having a great time here. Well, no use ranting over what’s gone. When a bird pisses over you, you don’t go to sue the bird. You curse it and run to wash yourself and move ahead. I too had to move ahead. So I had two more weeks and then my winter vacations would start.
The new semester began on 30th December and I had to shift before that. After much thinking I decided to comeback and then shift. Having my home in Kolkata I could bring my car along for a day and it’d be helpful when I’d have to shift to a hall around a kilometer away. Now just one kilometer may not sound that much but when you are taking everything from your bedding to your alarm clock along, you cant do it on foot. Somehow the HMC believed that relocating was a part of everyday life of IITians and we’d be more than glad to experience it every chance we got. So at the end of the semester in November, I packed my bags, left some at my Hall (if I could still call it mine that is) and took some home.