मौत

मौत से डर नहीं लगता जनाब

डर तो ज़िंदगी से लगता है

मौत तो अपनी महबूबा है, एक दिन ज़रूर आएगी

ज़िंदगी बेवफा है, कब तक साथ निभाएगी?

ज़िंदगी ने हर पल दुख दिए

मौत तो एक ही बार आएगी

ज़िंदगी ने साथ निभाने का वायदा जो किया था

वो वादा भी अब मौत निभाएगी

ज़िंदगी ने बहुत ज़ुल्म किए

मौत ज़ुल्मो से दूर ले जाएगी

मौत तो वफ़ा निभाएगी

ज़िंदगी बेवफा कहलाएगी

-

विशाल गुप्ता

अक्टूबर १६, २०११

Revolution 2020 - Book Review

Chetan Bhagat breaks the image of a college writer and steps into a cult of his own with his new and most thought provoking book, Revolution 2020. In this book, Bhagat not only shows his dream of a revolution to tackle the innumerable social and political problems sucking the life out of the nation today; but also touches down on the more sensitive side of the young Indian psyche. The underlying theme grabs the attention of the audience where circumstances turn an orphan whom you just cannot feel enough sympathetic about, into a corrupt manipulative ‘Sir’; yet he manages to show that humanity shall always prevail in hearts, even though modern agendas like ‘practicality’ and ‘money-mindedness’ may have their shine in time, humanity dies only with the human.

As always, Bhagat manages to give a picture of India in its everyday routine. Be it bribes at every stage of the bureaucracy, pressure behind the marriage of a girl, the decade long cases in the courts or the flight of the ambition of the common man; Bhagat shows the extent the Indian man has to go to achieve his dreams. He doesn’t let a ‘cut’ of 20%, or two horrible years in a city which improves a slight chance for getting into a college which might change the face of his family someday. Bhagat also reveals the consequences faced by those who choose to bring a revolution to the country by trying to be an example. Somehow, the advice from parents to be honest and brave changes the moment they realise they will not be there forever to look after their patron.

For the 2^nd time, Bhagat probes into the mind of the Indian female and digs deep into her life, her pressures and choices she is compelled to live with. Her character also reveals the complex sexual tension when she finds herself askew between ‘commitment’ and ‘love’. Bhagat pens down an extraordinary character in the face of Aarti who probes into the thoughts of the reader, was her decision correct?

In a nutshell, Bhagat makes the blood gushing into the veins of Indian readers once again. You can see the constant shift from being a college writer to a writer who writes with a mission, sending out a message at large. This time, he asks a question. The revolution is coming. Are you ready for it?

Change of IIT Policies

A great post on the recent IIT policies' change which I felt like sharing. 

http://inreddeeps.blogspot.com/2011/09/change-of-iit-policies.html

Rain

It has been a long wait

After which this drop has fallen today

It travelled a great distance

and now stands, proud on a dry leaf

She was conceived in the heart of a cloud

above the great ocean, she took her first lesson

The ocean taught her to be calm in apathy

and be fierce in war

The ocean taught her, the significance of company

that you may conquer the world, with those of your sort

and the ocean taught her individuality

the importance of every drop

Her education would have been incomplete

had she lingered for long

so her mother took her away

to places far beyond

The cloud then took her ashore

where she saw the waves crash into the coast

the land she saw, yet remained calm

provided homage to those who asked

The land seemed pleased, at her sight

and welcomed in the cloud and her child

the land knew, the fate of the rain

and wished her fortune, in the journey ahead

The cloud moved on, being driven by the wind

its force made the little drop chill

She shivered with fear, at the might of the draught

The crazy wind seemed, to fathom the minor’s thought

‘Fear not little one,’ the mighty one said

‘For there’s no greater joy than in adventure,’ even as it sped

‘I race the world, many times around

I dig in corners, untold unfound.’

‘I’ve seen the land, and so will you

savoured in its majestic hue

I’ve seen castles being built and mountains being shattered

I’ve seen golden robes and hearts cratered

One day, not far from now

I’ll take you to the wonders the world has

Fear not little one, I’ll take care of you

as I will see you, bringing life from the dead

for there’s no greater joy,

as I’ve learnt in my endeavours

than being the reason to someone’s smile

when you drop off little one

you’ll make the world dance with joy.’

The drop shuddered at the thought of leaving the cloud

But was intrigued to understand the world the wind talked about

the cloud moved forward, it’s heart full

she knew the time was near

when she’d bid goodbye to her daughter dear.

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath

over a land so barren as if it were never wet

the grains of sand reminded her of her beloved sea

she was about to shower it with love and set the rain free

The wind was quick to remind

that the journey was not as complete

that needy lands awaited the cloud, so full of life

so scorched that it would be injustice

to waste such precious love on a land which does not care

which is cursed to be sterile

which pays no heed, if it’s a kingdom of death

or a haven of life

The rain heard it all,

her respect for the wind grew

she promised herself to follow the wind

and go wherever it blew

The cloud at last reached the place

where the rain was eagerly awaited

and when the Sun was blocked by the cloud

the people looked sceptic, filled with doubt

Many a cloud had come and gone

with no promise of a single drop

it seemed the clouds had learnt from man

to look promising, but not to lend a hand

This one knew, it had to fall

and cried goodbye to its beloved one

after an emotion which raged and blew

which made the sky from gold to blue

which made the wind too afraid to stay

the wind gushed down, away from the cloud

the air was torn apart by the mother’s lament,

the cloud finally, accepted the dismissal

the first drops of tears, dropped.

The world rejoiced when the cloud sobbed

the drop then fell with her sisters beside

following the wind, the drop fell through the sky

She seemed so strong, so many aside

yet so serene, tearing through the skies

she had the power, to push down a tree

or she could, quench a dying man’s plea

she could choose, to fall on the land

and salute the feet of where the world stands

she could just play around

and see the world with the wind

or she could choose a bleak land

where no love had ever been

‘Where do you wish, little drop

to kiss the world with your fall?’

Asked the wind, the drop had made its choice

to bring back life, to love a dead world

it didn’t matter to her, where she’d fall

her fate was beautiful, no matter how small

she chose it all, and nothing at all

she chose to love, the weak the strong

It has been a long wait

after which the drop has fallen today

It travelled a great distance

And now stands proud, on a dead dry leaf

-         Vishal Gupta

August 28^th, 2011

The Day Which Could Have Been

Oh dear! It was all just a dream. He woke up with a start, sweating.

He didn’t have the time to lay more focus on the dream. It was already 8:20 am. Class began in 10 minutes. He had to rush lest he be thrown out of class again. He quickly picked up his bag, gave a thoughtful look to the toothbrush and ran out of the room. He never noticed the note pressed below the clock.

It was another usual day. He cycled past innumerable faces which he saw every day. They never cared to give him a glance. Everyone is so self-engulfed here. He reached the classroom. The professor had already started distributing sleeping pills. He quietly went to sit in his usual chair. The professor didn’t seem to care. He must be used to it by now. He looked at the chair across to him. Aashni, she had come today. One of these days, I’m going to tell you how I feel about you. He knew he wouldn’t. She was out of his league. A member of the choreography team, a basketball player and one of the brightest students in the class. She didn’t even notice him when he used to pass the occasional smiles to her. As if he didn’t even exist. But he didn’t mind that. All he knew was, that there is a girl, whom he loved.

‘Vaibhav!’ The professor spoke for the third time, irritated.

He came out of the world of his dreams and responded, ‘Present Sir.’

The professor moved on to the next name. Barely giving an acknowledgement. The students followed the professor out of the class after the roll call. There was still some time before the next class. He waited for Aashni to leave. After she disappeared beyond the door, he got up, picked his bag and left. Some of his friends were chatting outside the classroom. They were talking about the upcoming fest and the new theme. The organising team member amongst them was recounting the story of how his teammates agreed upon the idea after three hours of debating and argument.

‘But playing cards? How much can you innovate with them?’ He argued.

Nobody seemed to listen to him. They went on with their conversation. Why? He didn’t get it. Every time he spoke something, most people behaved that he didn’t even exist. Why can’t you all be a little more respectful and give the words of another person a little thought before continuing with your mind-numbing thoughts.

‘My dad has a deck so old that all its hearts have had bypasses by now,’ a friend tried to pull off a joke.

Everyone laughed. Most people didn’t understand it, but it wouldn’t be very wise to keep a straight face when everyone else was laughing. He laughed too. I wish I could walk away, but it would be rude to walk away. He wouldn’t dare to walk out of the chat everyone was having. Being a part of everyone was all he had. It was time for the class again. No one seemed interested. He knew, they were going to go in the class 5 minutes late. No reason. People just thought it was “cooler” like that. Aashni moved in. He went in after her. Someone looked at the spot he had been standing a moment ago, then joined back into the conversation. It was nothing which required too much attention.

After another hour of a fatal lecture, he started moving to the mess. Along the way he thought why he was there. Every day the same question bothered him. He was not learning much in those classes and he did not excel in anything else. The world belonged to people who excelled. He was not an achiever. Then why was he put on the planet. What purpose did he serve apart from being a waste to his parents’ hard earned money. Everything he had learnt till date was of no use in the real world. He was reaching nowhere. Well, I’ve reached the mess. Irony always ruled a part of his mind. He glanced at the thing which was being served in the name of food. He moved to the canteen which had dared to operate right next to the mess. Initially everyone was sceptical if a private canteen right next to the mess was a profitable idea. But the dealer was a good businessman. He had seen the condition of the mess and knew he’d get more business there than anywhere else. His business had grown beyond its capacity. Mismanagement and misplacing of orders were nothing new there. He ordered for his usual. After 30 minutes of waiting, he didn’t get anything. He moved to the kitchen where another boy was already complaining.

‘Wait dada, your order is next on the line. It’s a busy day today.’

It’s a busy day for me too you pest. He didn’t give a thought to what kept him busy. He laid down a 20 rupee note and took two packets of chips from the shop. He made way for his room, thinking about the last phonecall conversation with his dad.

‘Apple?’

‘Yes.’

‘Glucose?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many glasses?’

Two. ‘Three.’

‘Why do you do this Vaibhav? If you don’t take care of your health then how will you put the effort in studying? Don’t do this.’

Silence.

‘Had a bath today?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yesterday?’

Truth or yes. ‘No.’

‘Won’t you listen to anything we say?’

Silence.

‘Keep a chart on your wall, of the list of things you have to do every day.’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes. And study well and keep good care of your health.’

And shouldn’t I keep my head clean of garbage? I’ve heard this a hundred times dad! ‘Yes.’

‘And listen to some wise men’s words. I have couriered you the Geeta. One page a day. It’ll keep your mind off the filth. And today Sri Sri Ravi…’

He didn’t remember everything about the conversation. Even though it was the same thing day after day for the last two years, after a point he just became uninterested and kept the phone after he heard the final ‘Okay’ from his dad. Life did not have much meaning.

He looked at his phone again. His family were the only people who contacted him through that phone. I really have no other friends. Ofcourse there were people who lived near his room. They came every time India won a match to collect money for crackers. He knew they spent most of it on alcohol. He never participated in the drinking sessions, but he paid every time. Everyone else does too.

It thundered. It was going to rain. Winds were slowly brushing his hair, prompting him to get to his room before they turned violent. He reached his room, thinking if he should follow the plan he was thinking of for such a long time. The fan invited him every time he looked at it. He had already bought the rope but slept every night just staring at it. He knew he couldn’t gather the courage to actually do it. He opened the door.

Wind rushed into the room as soon as the door opened.

The boy passing by the room did not notice the absurdity at first. He came back and looked at the room with a shock of disbelief. He had seen the view before, but only on the television. He closed his eyes and screamed at louder than he had ever before. A small crowd gathered around. Someone ran off to inform the warden. Some people got inside the room and brought the body down. Someone saw a little note under the clock. It didn’t make much sense. ‘Even I feel the same way,’ he thought. An atmosphere of shock and grief engulfed the hostel soon.

Oh dear! It was not a dream.

Written by –

Vishal Gupta