Heena - Ambigram

Here's to my dear old friend - Heena Gupta.

Mr Charlie Brown

Dear Mr. Charlie Brown,

I write this letter, to tell you now

you are a pig, thought you should know.

I can’t say this, to your big fat face

because I care, for my certificate

If this letter, ever falls in your slimy hands

I’ll be dead I know, and fed to ants

But it’s a pain to stay with you

and wake up everyday when you poke me

If I could just, have my way for a day

I would cut those fingers and feed you three

And why you like, I cannot understand

when you scratch my ear, with your grubby hand

Mr. Charlie Brown

you look like a hound

Just take a minute and hear yourself

you’ll end up hating your own sound

The vanity in which you live and cook dry meals

better food is prepared at the bottom of the ocean by a brainless eel

When you reach work you don’t use your feet

you need two men just to fir you in your seat

Your desk drawers are opened by your peon

Does his bent body turn you on?

You call out to him as if he’s your slave

and abusing him in public is anything but brave

You abuse your boss too, but behind his back

if he heard you, he’d get you sacked

And don’t feel as if you own the ones you pay

once they make enough they’ll not stay

For the Devil would be a better boss than you

He’d skin their souls but you skin my brain

Mr. Charlie Brown

you’ve weaved a thorn crown

Now get that finger out of your nose

you’ve gotta go down town

There is a banker waiting for you, he knows you’re a fraud

but you bribe him so he doesn’t mind and you strip the system blind

Mr. Charlie Brown, may you burn alive

or die in car crash or suffocate in slime

But the thing about you I most hate

is your habit of tuning in the television so late

And you watch it like a deaf strout

with the voice so loud blaring out

Causing an earthquake in my head

which you don’t feel ‘coz yours is of lead

Dare you poke me again in my sleep

Or even when I’m awake for that matter

I’ll take your finger and shove it in your ass deep

and stuff your mouth with your food and hear your teeth clatter

and I’ll show you what loud noise is

when I put your head in a drum and bang it till I please

Mr. Charlie Brown

I know you wont improve

I might write 200 pages but you’ll be a prude

Mr. Charlie Brown

Are you really gay?

You seem to love your wife and child but I’m scared of your taste

Mr. Charlie Brown

I’ll wash your computer

It’ll smell better than you and will still think better

Mr. Charlie Brown

I take your leave now

and I’ll never be back nor wish to see you again

nor hear your voice nor see your name

I wish you all the curses in the world and say badbye.

Vishal Gupta

May 30^th, 2012

Could I have this last dance with you?

It’s a ball of people, yet he is alone

for his eyes search, for the face he’s known

Her sight passes by him, without a stir

His, fixate on her in the crowd brim

He moves towards her, without haste or hesitation

He’s waited far too long, now is the time for his redemption

For if patience is the punishment of love, then he’s been crucified thrice

if he is to grieve, he’d rather grieve loss than flight

A noble reaches her before him,

kisses her hands he

the music plays on, he sees them dance

His unworthy hands unsure of drawing her close to him

He waits for her, as he always has

since the day she looked into his eyes

Her beauty holds him till day

Him, the next day she did not recognize

The craven let her go at the end of the tune

for he never knew, to hold such royalty in his arms

He, fastened his steps again

and reached to take the damsel’s hands

‘Could I have this last dance with you?’

his voice soft and firm

She said not a word but touched his shoulder

and followed the step he took her on

If she saw love in his eyes, she did not say

her’s, spoke odysseys to him

He knew, his love could not steal her away in this life

He touched her lips, agreeing to wait till another

Vishal Gupta

June 17^th, 2013

Devki at Dwarka

Disclaimer: The following article is a travelogue and is not intended to hurt any section or sect of the society. Yet, if any religious group who wholeheartedly believes in their God find it offensive; I request you not to file a lawsuit against me. Have faith in your God that He or She or It will punish me.

I wonder how many of you have been to Dwarka. It’s a beautiful place. Or atleast the landscape says it once must’ve been, until it became a tourist hotspot. For the uninitiated, Dwarka is a small island off the coast of Gujrat which is said to be the kingdom where Lord Krishna ruled. Now there have been a number of controversies regarding the facts whether Dwarka was submerged or whether it’s a Hindu religious hoax or whether it really was Krishna’s home. This article is not about all that. It’s about a particular scene I saw at the place which is known as Dwarka, and believed to be Lord Krishna’s home.

As one reaches the coast of the island, one can’t help but notice the only superstructure on the entire island is a gigantic temple with a red flag. Almost immediately you are told by someone (usually someone who’s been there before and heard it from someone else) that the population of the island is 2,000 which is dominated by Muslims. I smiled at the irony of Muslims handling all activities in an island which was known and revered for being the home of one of the Hindus’ biggest idols. As one enters the temple, the pundits (temple priests) waste no time stating that since the island is dominated by Muslims the temple has its own water supply and doesn’t use the water the rest of the island uses. I was 20 and knew by now not to question on such idiosyncrasies. The pundits took their time showing us around various rooms of the Lord’s house. He seemed to have a lot of bedrooms, but then I remembered that one of the things the Lord is known for, was having a lot of wives (16,108 to be precise. Most people can’t handle one. I guess he was a God for a reason). Again, something I couldn’t ask anyone. Specially the someone’s who’d been here before and still cared enough to come back.

But I mean no disrespect to any religion or any belief or any someone. As I said, the motive of my article is to talk about a particular scene. However, one does face so many distractions when writing on the topic of Dwarka. But I’ll come to the point now.

The time for the temple to open was 5 AM and as fervent Hindu devotees, we reached the temple area at 4:30 AM. The temple area was a large circular room which housed idols of Krishna and his family on 4 sides. All these idols were placed in small digs inside the larger room and the doors were to be opened at 5 AM. I could read the labels on the doors to find out which dig housed which idol. There was the Lord himself; his brother Balram; his wife (I couldn’t figure out which one) and his mother Devki. I tried to look for Yoshoda, Krishna’s foster mother but couldn’t find her. Something inside me died. Something else, smiled.

As 5 AM drew nearer, I felt people push me to get nearer to Krishna’s gate. At 5 AM the gates would open and the first thing the Lord would see would be hundreds of devotees waiting to get a glance of him. Anyone who’s ever been to such a temple knows the demeanour of such devotees, so I’d not comment on that. I just felt bad that just to have a glance at an idol, these people didn’t care if the crowd seriously wounds someone in the process.

I guessed since I didn’t care enough to see the God that I didn’t want to be the first in line (or rather, the first in the crowd), I politely got out and walked towards the back of the room while my Mom signalled me wide-eyed waving frantically. I ignored her and went to the very end of the room where I now saw hundreds of believers with their backs at me. Turning around, I saw the room of Devki (Krishna’s birth-mother) right opposite to me. By fate or by plan, her room was built right opposite to her son’s. Had it been an empty hall, I imagined these two would wake up everyday to see each other. Devki would smile and bless her son and he, being the child he was, would simply smile back affectionately. But now Devki wouldn’t be able to see her son. Him having his own devotees to see first. But she’d just see the scene everyday and be proud of her son. After all, what more could a mother ask for?

My chain of thought was broken by the temple bells. At precisely 5 AM all priests opened the doors to their respective idols and people huddled infront of Krishna’s idol. At that point, seeing hundreds of backs fighting to get an inch ahead, closer to their idol, I felt bad for Devki. Each one of those men and women wanted to get as close to Krishna as possible. They were so obscured with this goal that they were rushing away from Devki. There must’ve been around 500 of them and not one, even not the one who was in the end and had no hope to get infront for atleast an hour, even that guy wouldn’t turn around and pay some respects to Devki.

I wondered if these idols really thought, what would go through Devki’s mind everyday. Everyday she woke up to see hundreds of backs towards her, trying to flee away from her, towards her son. Would she feel bad for herself, or would she be proud? I looked at her. She seemed to be smiling, yet I felt I saw a tittle of sadness in her eyes. Maybe she was sad because she wanted to see her son. Maybe because she would have liked it if atleast one of those devotees ever turned back for her. Maybe she was having personal problems with her husband at that time. Or maybe it was all a figment of my imagination and she really was smiling with full zest. I didn’t know. She didn’t tell. She just stood there, with a smile on her lips and mysterious eyes.

I normally don’t do much at temples, but this time I turned towards her to bow down and touch her feet. I stood infront of her for a while and then quietly left. The quizzical pundit’s eyes followed me till he was sure that I wouldn’t return.

- Vishal Gupta

In Search Of The One

It’s been an year, since my phone last rang

to tell me you have something to say

Your last one, had ended with a goodbye

it was the first goodbye you said to me

and I knew it would be the last one

One year later, I think

I feel the emptiness in my heart

I know you will never come back,

we have been through that road

I wonder if anyone ever will

to fill the hole you made

to stay in the place I made for you

I wonder if there is someone alive

on the face of the planet today

whose face will mean what yours did

Seeing whose smile, there would be tears of joy in my eyes

Someone, who would throw her weight against me

knowing, she will always find support in me

Someone, who would lean against me

finding my arms fastening her close to me

Someone, whose eyes will lit up

when she walks towards me

Someone, who’d hug me everytime she saw me

Someone, with whom I’d want to spend my life

I wonder if she’s always in the wrong time zone

I wonder if fate’s waiting for the right time

I wonder if I’ll ever find her

I wonder, if I’ve already seen her somewhere

Someone, who could lie back and watch the stars with me

Someone, who’d not be afraid to name our children

Someone, whose presence, will not leave space for any other desire

Someone, whose kiss will light up my fire

I know now with you, I were never meant to be

it was life’s lesson, before I found my destiny

I wonder how many more lessons will I have to go through

I wish you were the last, I wish I find my love soon

Or perhaps there is no such thing as the one

perhaps we are meant to learn to love someone we happen to find

Perhaps destiny has no role to play

perhaps, love is about staying strong and staying together

If love is about this, then we failed love

but I know I will not fail it again

Having learnt my lesson, when I find love again

She will stay, and we will survive

‘coz love isn’t about finding the right person

it’s about living the right life with someone

Or if I don’t find someone till mid-life

Maybe I will bring home a daughter

Shower her, with all the love I have

see her grow, calling me Dad

Her eyes will say I am her king

her first love, her protector, her father

In whom she could confide, all her problems

whom she could trust, with her little secrets

Whom she can hug, when she is in sorrow

or even when elated with some great bliss

Whose hand she’d hold, when she learns to walk

whose hand she’d leave, when comes her time to walk away…

Perhaps, I have not bathed in love yet

but I know, I will not die without the rain

- Vishal Gupta

April 15^th, 2013