Rain...

I stand by the broken window
and watch the rain fall
I see faces
Some distinct and some vague
Some have great stories to tell
Some to hide

As I stood
I saw an old lady with a wistful look
And I wondered about
The life she must have seen
The children she must have borne
The memories of youth that she sighed upon

Life on a sidewalk

Show me that mirror on the wall
Which says thou is the fairest of all
I know I am not perfect
Never pretended to be
Yet, you ask me to stand in front of the mirror

I ask myself, “why not run away and be free?”
For I am happy being lonely
For I am fine with nobody’s company
Like that old record song in my shelf

Beckoning

See that hut out there in the wilderness
Hidden behind the old mango tree
A serene air cloaks this hut
Intoxicated by the white jasmine shrub
I sit and watch charmed into eternity

Wistful smokes are coming out of that hut
Mingled with young gleeful chatters
I also see a hunched up shadow
Picking some dried twigs
Beneath the old mango tree
I sit and watch charmed into eternity

I burn

Do you feel like holding my hand
And take me into your arms
I feel it all the time
I burn in desire
Yes, desire for you

Don’t say a word
I fear what you will say
Baby, I love you
I need you bad
Will be there for you

Resurgence of Gorkhas

Resurgence of the Gorkhas
By Pinky Pradhan on 29 December, 2007 07:30:00

The once silent hills of Darjeeling, has grabbed the attention of the central Government and Indian Nepali diaspora. From being a sleepy tourist town, the towering hills are being ravaged by demands from two dissentious groups: the implementation of sixth schedule status vs. a separate statehood- ‘gorkhaland’.The angst however, is not limited within Darjeeling itself. Sizeable Indian Nepali populations from states like Delhi, Assam, Meghalaya, Sikkim and others are closely taking part in it. Questions like –‘can the tag of being honest feed us?’, ‘can tourism be a year long industry for feeding the people?’, ‘can sixth schedule remove all barriers?’ mirrors their anguish.“I was born in Assam and have my roots there, but this doesn’t stop me from supporting the demand for a long overdue ‘gorkhaland’ ”, says Dhiren Thapa, a college student presently studying in Delhi.Let us take a minute and question ourselves as to why the peace loving ethnic Nepalis/gurkhas are all of a sudden demanding a separate statehood? Is it just a passing fashion or an attempt by ambitious politicians to raise their profile and votes? Is it really about ‘statehood’?

Where are they…?

Kumari and Jayanti start their day’s work at 4 am every morning. This is the only time these two women get to talk and discuss their problems, before the others arrive. Jayanti has been upset for the last few months. Her teenage daughter ran away with the boy in the next village. How could she have done that? Did she not think of the shame it would bring to the family ? Did she not think of what repercussions it would have for her sister who was yet to be married or the difficulty her father would have now to raise a loan for the tractor? But Kumari was wise, she was a true friend. She tried hard to explain to Jayanti that the only way was to accept and forget; after all, 3 years ago her daughter had run away with someone too but with time life had return to routine comfort for her and her family.

A beautiful night in my city...

I had never thought the river which passes through my city would look so beautifull even on a moonless night.The stars were there to compensate offcourse...Gentle breeze swept not only my hair, my clothes but also my emotions.The breeze was flirting with me..beckoning me to play along with it.And to add to this encounter, as if the heavens were conspiring, i saw a shooting star...

The scene was set, all it needed were eternal lovers ...
The night had its own poetic rendition to share.I was completely captivated by the beauty of that night. Felt like a bride about to be kissed by groom,felt like the horizon trying to touch the sky, felt like being alive again