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[Poem] An Ode to Freedom.



What is it to be free,
To be independent?


Underneath the sky full of stars,
witness my land full of freedom,
where I walk carefree, with my head held high -
Free of fear, rape, and molestation,
Of the baseless justification,
And that hateful identification.
A land full of familiar faces,
Beyond caste, beyond races,
To take pride without prejudice -
In whoever, I Love, still, unafraid,
In whatever I eat, grass or dead meat,
Free to chose what I speak -
for what I seek,
to hear, deep within my heart;
is that blissful call of freedom!


But, do you know,
what is it to be free,
To be independent?


Where our fathers, won the battle, not long before,
The land of Nehru, Gandhi, Bhagat, Bose and many more -
Bestowed, to us, this land full of freedom.
War is over, yet, what is it,
That we, still, keep waging? This silent wailing?
Born of this rage, a droplet of hatred,
My brainwashed brothers!
While Kashmir burns,
another Dalit is set to fire,
another state stands divided,
yet, another angry Naxalite
flaming this invisible ire,
bracing, yet, another fight,
and embracing the hands of invisible independence.


But why?
Why did we trade our freedom?
And to whom?


This Illusion of choice -
The rigged election, yet another fiction.
A fable, anointing a handful of proud pigs,
This illusion of choice -
Disillusion of divide and rule! While,
My brothers of Khaki and the sisters who smile,
The sons of poverty and daughters die in distraught,
While these battles, that are still fought,
This illusion of choice -
Voting for this, The choice of hatred over peace,
The invisible boundaries that still divide us - awhile -
the freedom of fancy coveted lives we live upon.
Divide us, and they shall rule.


Wake up!


Here and now, Unite. Quit this inner fight.
Get up, Stand up,
Stand up, for your rights!
Look beyond, these invisible shackles, the bondage
Look beyond, Men behind those masks, coming of age,
to sell us out,
sinister schemes, bogus bills, hypocritical hypothesis -
that become The Blind Law,
and us? The proud law abiding citizens.
- A trap, a loop, a labyrinth of lies,
and then, this here is their version of our freedom!


But do they know,
What is it to be free,
To be independent?


The symbols, anthems, this fake preach of patriotism,
Taxation, reservation, my constitution, this holy inhibition,
Speech, politics, blasphemy, to set me free?


"Go to work, have kids, send them to school,
obey all rules, follow the fashion and pretend all's cool,
act normal, walk on the pavement, watch the Television,
trade your youth, save for the future, remember the vision,
keep your eyes close, cover your senses and obey the law,
it's alright! A brave new world, without any flaw.
Now, repeat after me:
We are free, We are free, We are free..."


And all this while we raise the flag
and sing the anthem,
decorate ourselves with the tricolor,
remember our heroes and forget this moment,
our chests out in adoration, in pride,
and minds shut off objective fiction.
Year after year, the same,
the nationalistic kills the idealistic,
And that's the end of this game,


The game of freedom. "We are free, we are free, we are free..."


But, did you understand, 
what is it, to be free,
To be independent?






***

[About]

As per all recorded evidence, India gained independence on August 15, 1947.
70 years later, the question remains the same,
What is it, to be free,
To be independent?

***
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When no one helped, this is how we rescued a three day old kitten from a thirty feet deep bore well.



What is the value of one’s life? 

Are we human’s superior to other beings of nature in any way?

What makes us humans humane?

This article captures a small sequence of events on a single day that made me question and introspect our collective outlook towards the world we are meant to co-exist.

This is the story of a three-day-old kitten captured in a thirty feet. deep uncovered bore well in a small district of Bangalore.
***

 The Fiasco

 My colleague at Microsoft, Ashish Singh – a bright self-styled geek hailing from a small town of Madhya Pradesh – loves to be early to work. It was unusual not to be greeted with his bright grinning face behind the glass wielded eyes on a Thursday morning. We had our weekly skype call meeting scheduled at eleven in the morning and there was no sign of Ashish. It was rather strange I thought. When my call went unanswered I dropped a curious WhatsApp text in the hope of a reply.

He pinged me back after an hour with the following picture:



You might be confused like me seeing the image at first glance. Try zooming in.

My heart beat pulsated when I saw an innocent kitten’s neck smeared against a rusty iron pillar. With no space to make any movement, she was looking upward with hopeful eyes.

Moments later Ashish called.

“I think I am going to be late for work. This is not working. This is impossible. The people here are the same. Same Everywhere! There’s this kitten. A three-day-old kitten stuck in an unmanaged 30 ft. bore well in front of my apartment. Her mother is crying for help. Nothing is working man! I’ll be late to work. I am trying to get her out. Please drop a mail on my behalf. Will you?”

His voice cracked as he finished the last sentence.

Ashish is a sensitive, kind-hearted, honest, humble youth. He believes in conserving nature, aid children in shelters, helping people in distress, been an elder brother for me in a foreign land. He lives in a rented apartment in a small locality named Murgeshpalya – not far from our office in Domlur.

I drafted the mail on his behalf and frantically started searching for help on Google.


The Excuses

In India, as kids, we are instructed to memorize a three-digit number – on the lines of the ubiquitous 911 helplines in America - to dial in critical moments of accidental emergencies. 
When you hit the digits 101 in sequence from any Indian SIM card, it connects you to the fire department.
The phone was answered after several long rings. Thirty seconds of the conversation, the firefighter and I decided English as the preferred mode of communication. I did not understand Kannada (local language in Karnataka), he had a problem interpreting my Hindi (India’s official language). 
I explained him the entire situation taking calm, long pauses. I was perplexed as to why he would confuse the kitten with a puppy or a human infant, and react differently on each occasion. I disconnected the phone after he argued that I had dialled in the wrong department for cat rescue and suggested me to contact “someone” else. 

Isn’t noon time a little too early to be tipsy? I thought.

Ashish finally reached office. Distraught and dismayed he recalled the sequence of events. I listened patiently, noticing the worry and fear on his face.

There was a small passage in between the outer and inner concentric circle outlining the bore well. A couple of inches- small enough to barely slide your wrist through- was big enough for the mischievous small kitten to get stuck in. Some observers gathered around Ashish while he applied his engineering skills and utilized as many household items around him as he could since morning. 

Nothing helped.

He managed to call in a volunteer from a recognized non-profit organization who instead of helping, coaxed Ashish to quit trying and suggested him not to worry as the kitten would soon die and his body would easily rot away in the perfect makeshift graveyard!

“What can we do Arnab? Why are people so insensitive?”

He looked famished. I convinced him to join for lunch and promised him help. My nerves rattled in shame and helplessness. Nearly choked with flashbacks of the cute kitten’s face and his miserable plight I had trouble gulping my food.

Back at our seat, we decided to approach the issue with a plan. We spent nearly half an hour collecting helpline numbers of as many animal rescue organizations or non-profit agencies who swear to go to any extent to safeguard any animals’ life and boasted about several success stories on their websites. Contact details were neatly on display along with account details inviting donations. We were hopeful.

We started dialling and then the illusion was shattered!

While one renowned NGO (PFA- People’s for Animals) argued that the location was too far to travel on a bright sunny afternoon, another explained that their organization only rescues “wild” animals. I lost the debate supporting my claim that our innocent three-day-old kitten was wild enough to get your attention. He disconnected too. 

While some (KRUPA) would suggest me to contact the fire department and explained their dependency on them for such rescue operation, other would blatantly pass on random contact numbers as both of us frantically continued our quest for help!

Bound by our work duties we couldn't leave the office for another few hours. We decided to keep on dialling – our only feasible way out, we thought.

People kept giving contacts and kept passing the buck. It was close to four in the afternoon. I tried the fire department again. The guy at the other end scolded me for trying them the fourth time, this time stating they didn't have climbers and added all fire engines were disbursed across the city. I tried explaining there would be no need for a climber as the cat was locked in a bore well deep inside the Earth. The guy from the fire department got even more rude and asked me to approach the media for more attention. I got the answer and hung up in disgust.

Other office colleagues chose to passively listen to our helpless phone communication and even mock us to be over sensitive for just an animal’s life.



We managed to leave work a bit early. Reaching the spot, we tried to gather the neighbour’s attention and sought as much help as we could.


The Mission Impossible

There was so little space around the borewell hole that moving the inner rod or inserting something to pull out the kitten would have hurt her. We kept thinking.
Some kind people gathered around.

Ultimately the circle of life fulfils with likeness and kindness coming in closer. That’s the base of our society and the world around. Someone brought a wire from a hardware shop. A lady brought her old sari (traditional Indian female garment). A kind neighbour provided us with torches, emergency light and heavy words of inspiration.

We made a loop of a long metal wire. Tearing the old sari to half, we looped it around the flexible aluminium wire’s length. We inserted this makeshift fishing rod inside.

In the commotion, the bore well rod moved a bit and the kitten fell further inside. Everyone gasped in agony!

On peeking inside, we realised the kitten was fine but was now thirty feet deep inside the borewell. It had hit rock bottom. For a moment, I cried. My hopes shattered as I silently heard the kitten wail.

After a round of heated discussions, we further stretched the wire inside until we imagined it to be within her reach. We had no choice but to wait for the kitten to climb onto the wire loop, so we could slowly pull her out. Everyone waited.

The mother cat purred impatiently around us, motivating her child and us to hasten the rescue. The kitten was devoid of food or water for more than twelve hours.

Was she alive and breathing down there?

People murmured; some gossiped; some kept making fun; some still questioned and wondered how did these two guys find time for all this without realizing how did they manage to find time to question these guys? Nervous moments ticked by. We answered some obnoxious questions and re-narrated the same stories.

Amongst all these thought bubbles came light!

We suddenly heard faint scratching sound. We flashed our torch and cheered hysterically as the kitten’s tiny paws clawed against the sari motioning it upward. The cat continued her shrill meows. The kitten responded and slowly continued moving towards our flashes of light. Her eyes sparkled in the reflection of the white light. Our eyes sparkled due to the tears of joy!

After vying for space and taking intermittent pauses, the kitten managed to crawl more than half the borewell’s length in half an hour. We stood in silence, witnessing a perfect climax! I bit my lips in silent prayers that she shouldn’t slip back the inner rod into the hell hole again.

With the help of the sari, her mother’s woeful cries and a major stroke of luck, the cute kitten proved that the cat has nine lives phrase is true!

She jumped into our arms and held on to our garments tightly. We purred and gently pat her delicate body. She was frightened! A near death experience, a long wait to be rescued, a hungry thirsty encounter with the delicacy of life.

The assembled crowd cheered for the heroes of the night. While a lady thanked Tirupati Balaji (major holy place celebrating the Indian Lord Vishnu), one swore to offer milk to the Shiva Lingam (a symbolic form of worship the famous Indian God – Shiva).

Someone suggested taking a selfie. We obliged.


I tread back to my mind loops, questioning the concept of humanity. What about our ability to imagine and decide to empathise with the sensitive ecosystem around?

What was the fault of the imbecile, young kitten who has been forced to adjust growing around a dangerous, insensitive, cruel human civilization- that chooses to favour and segregate nature as per its whims and fancy instead of embracing it as it is? 

Shouldn’t the approach of the firefighters and the non-profit organizations have been more proactive, instead of simply passing around numbers and comments? Have we become lazy or simply insensitive or do we act only when the circumstances favour us? 

In a country exploding in a population with every keystroke that I have typed so far, who do we approach when caught in such sensitive scenarios? Are enough organizations, volunteers, established in good numbers to offer help? 

Why do we categorize ourselves superior to life forms around us? Why have we applied labels to everything? Why are we becoming self-centric and have chosen to shun our ability to empathise and embrace everyone around? Isn't a life just a life?
As the inner debate that if we at all believe in Karuna (grace/mercy) in this Kali Yuga (the last of the four stages of the world as per ancient Indian scriptures) still prevails, the kitten lives on – united with her nervous, caring mother sipping warm milk offered by another generous woman.

 Do I rename this article as to something as 

“Rescued Kitten: Faith in Humanity Restored!” 

or 

“Rescued a wild Kitten: Whose wilder - Us or Them?” 

* * *

 Also published at Youth Ki Awaaz. 
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[FridayFrame] Invoke the Guru within.





“Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream..”

The shoreline echoed in his ears. Each deep breath filled his lungs with the freshness of pristine surrounding.

The rustic bridge overlooking the crimson skyline laid a perfect setting for their daily séance.

He assumed the lotus position and gently closed his eyes.

With each passing wave, his body resonated at a higher frequency. 
The Guru smiled at his disciple’s allegiance. Now repeat after me.



Several moments later, He submerged into the vast ocean of consciousness.




#OFS #99words.
99 fiction friday
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Five ways NOT to celebrate Holi.



"Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see there is so much more
and beckons me to look through 
to these infinite possibilities."
~


* * *

Over 80,000 attendants at the 2013 Festival of Colors
At Sri Radha Krishna Temple, Spanish Fork, Utah, United States

Smiling faces smeared in a pallet of colors; an amalgamation of men, women, and children in the euphoric outburst of floating colors; an overdose of sweets and delicacies; loud blaring music systems playing classic dance anthems and finally the happy forgiving embraces!

Holi, the grand festival of color invites you to take a dip in festive fervor and celebration - to experience how a drop of color can give meaning to the empty canvas of our lives.

The ability to give meaning lies with our own ability of imagination.  

* * *


Holi is perhaps one of the least religious of all Hindu festivals. 
It is widely marked and celebrated all over India, originally, observed as an agricultural festival, marking the onset of Spring season.

Holi is surrounded by many History and Rituals, but for most Hindus, Holi has become another opportunity to ignore the societal norms, disregard the essence of the festival and instead bask in callous merry-making; in general to "let loose". 

So, while Holi is round the corner, here is a quick list capturing 

Five ways NOT to celebrate Holi this year:

1. Water-Water Everywhere: India is a country where we give more weight to tradition, religion and rituals over logic, consciousness and wisdom.
While no religious books or manuscripts have mentioned pumping gallons of water on a single day just to get your neighbor or friends wet, we have devised this obnoxious practice of wasting water in the name of celebration. There can and are other genuine ways of celebrating the festival of colors, without wasting an already depleting natural resource. 
A gentle reminder and request to ring in your ears while you dip yourselves into the pool of water and shout Holi Hai! (It is Holi): refrain from wasting water. 

 Let us decide consciously and for once, 
chose awareness over stupidity. 

   
2. Rang Barse! Alcohol Nahi: Think about it - Amidst the cheerful celebration, overflowing colors, and the ecstatic waves of laughter, we indulge in intoxication. 
We desire to overdo, overdose at all moments. The want of doing more and experience something different and crazier than that is occurring around, attracts several dry mouths towards the poisonous alcohol - that which snatches away the sanctity of the auspicious day. 
Sure, Krishna was intoxicated at Mathura while splashing colors over Radha, but it was a drug greater than we humans can ever indulge in. Let Holi be the festival of sharing Joy and Love. 

So while Holi might or might not be declared as a dry day in your state, make the choices wisely.  

Choose love - not alcohol. Be human. 

3. Speed Thrills, But Kills: As the festive color from our faces fade away, so do several innocent intoxicated lives. 
Every year around Holi, several youths are killed or seriously injured due to overspeeding accidents. 
While police forces and other organizations are stipulated to curb and regularize peace and order during such events, shouldn't it be our collective responsibility and decision to behave sensibly behind wheels? 
A moment of recklessness or rashness can cause you or your dear ones the most precious gift - Life. 
Think! 
Do you want to paint yourself only in shades of blood-red? 


Do not bereave us this Holi.





4. License to Molest: Holi gives an opportunity for many to bask in open obscenity and guilt free molestation.
Women experience a strange "freedom" in an otherwise restricted Indian society and tend to participate rather aggressively in the festive spirit, making them vulnerable and easier targets to eve-teasers.
There might be open vulgarity due to the phallic theme surrounding Holi's history and rituals. 
Often strange practices of hooliganism are commonly observed.
The festival of colors is dubbed as an excuse to vent out the "latent heat" and indulge in physical relaxation.
While a blame game is futile and unnecessary here, getting physically comfortable needs to be entirely a personal choice.
A common call shall reach out to the hearts of the revelers to respect everyone's privacy instead of seeking cheap thrills in the name of merry making.
Your momentary pleasure or thrill 
can cause long periods of distress and sadness to others.   



Holi is here! Hold On your Testosterone fueled horses.

5. Bura Na Maano Holi Hai! (Don't be hurt, Its Holi!): Our ego fuelled anger is violent enough to cause turbulence to anyone who comes near. 
While Holi celebrates love, color, festivity and virtues like "victory of Good over Evil", we seldom forget the hidden meanings, instead, we direct our energy towards settling grudges and controlling the world around.
Every year, during Holi petty issues and quarrels quickly escalate to heavy clashes among revelers - that use brawn over brain to resolve matters. "Colorful" street fights are a common scene. 
The eternal quest to prove one's opinion as correct or superior than the other seldom triggers such war of words that often take an ugly form. 

Let us embrace it out! 
Give peace a chance.

This Holi, Let Go of Ego.


* * *

 [Bonus] The Bholenath's Bhang: A story surrounding Holi revolves around the great Hindu God - Lord Shiva:
Shiva is known to devote many hours in solitude and deep meditation. Once, Madana - the God of love, decided to test his resolve and appeared in the form of a beautiful nymph. Shiva recognized Madana and became very angry. In a fit of rage, he shot fire out of his third eye and reduced her to ashes. This is sometimes given as the basis of Holi's bonfire.

 Corollarily, to celebrate the blissful meditative states experienced by the great Shiva, people in many parts of India indulge in the usage of Bhang - an edible preparation of cannabis. 
While Indian laws strictly prohibit the consumption and possession of cannabis, exceptions are made around the festival of color. 
Laws are bent, recipes are passed around and a great collective tripping is witnessed! 

 Bhang Thandais's and Bhang Pakoras are prepared and sold all across inviting even first-timers to experience the unknown highs of life. 
Such is the paradox of the Indian society!

A word of caution, however, comes from the doctors; 
and from Shiva Himself:

Bholenath

* * *

Let the colors you shower,
spread the message of
 love and happiness.

Happy Holi!
celebrate festival holi
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[Poem] The One With The Rhyme.



Consumed by ubiquitous passage of time,
I found a moment for my heart to rhyme.
The sun calling out, shining bright,
Who do we fear, of wrong or right?
Legs long withered, sprinting the rat race,
I'll borrow me a mask, veiling my tired face.

The turbulent moments fly by, calmness taking over.
Huffed, I stop by to take a breath under thy cover.
Mother bequeathed quintessentially these green overflowing trees.
Reassurance is essential for the mind to be at peace.

Open thy heart, a fathom underneath I'll caress.
Bereft thou, life-long been in an utterly ugly mess.
Overflowing mind altering destinations, unseen.
We were here, now, always have been!

Let it go, flow free, subconsciously hear the inner call.
Quit the herd, life's precious to be another brick in the wall.
My underlay craving not quenched, should never be.
Then, all these moments screechingly halt, for subsequent ones to see.

Mind oozing with laments of past, 
Outlined with fearful future, never to outlast.
While every moment slips by, I seldom fail to take a grip.
Holding till the last puff, bracing for my final trip...
Poem poetry rhyme
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