The Great Indian Circus

The Janmashtami of politics:

Regional parties of an indigenous people are out on the streets sponsoring and promoting an indigenous youth to participate in a festival that comes from a culture and celebrates the birth of a God of the very same culture they have learnt to detest. They celebrate Krishna janm but can beat up people of the very same culture, every now and then, to push their regional identity agendas.

‘Hindutva’ is the unification of many cultures under one religion. So a political party can be Hindu, but beat up and threaten non-indigenous people? 

some old wounds have opened up this past week,

spent a week with family. 

human relations are a commodity.

there is no such true friendship, etc. 

you are worth as much as you are of use to someone else. 

use would mean, 

how someone relates to you,

how someone can talk to you or share their world views with you,

how someone can unburden their frustration,

how someone feels that you will always come through for them, no matter what! 

how someone feels that a failure of a get together is your failure to gather people time and time again,

how someone thinks of you as skilled and efficient, intelligent, etc (always ask yourself, with respect to what.. when you hear this one),
or sometimes,

how someone thinks more of you because you are someone to someone,

and so on.

and this includes family.

beware for in being a good friend, brother, son, nephew, classmate, acquaintance, etc. you extend beyond your boundaries to make sure you live up to your image, and it is in that, you will be exploited! until next time, ad the next, and so on. 

what i think at the end of the day

there are things that worry me.
the persistent, rhythmic hammering in my head,
the knee which limps backs to normalcy, but, slowly,
the cough that resides in my chest, lungs and throat, in the cavities of my skull,
the thinning of the hair on my already bald scalp,
the physical dimensions of my existence,
frustration.

the only thing that i am afraid of is dying young.

calcutta trams

First ride in the tram. 

college street, kolkata

India Coffee House, off college street.

Pujo Mandal at the YMCA, College Street.

Two Institutions.

kolkata

buildings on the esplanade.

howrah bridge

centrury cement

    

    somewhere in Bihar, on the way to Howrah.

up there in the hills, 
there is a valley, amidst the folds,over which the forests roll. 

It collects from icy peaks and dark forests, whispers in the cold winds,
it collects in whispers the story of origin. 

In the valley, 
a prayer wheel chants in spin, 
the forest of flags flutter in the wind,
that carries the story as whispers in the darkness. 


Bayul Demazong.

19.1

from within the earth it spews through cracks and fissures on the skin, glowing yellow and molten red, leaving bruises as it flows.
it collects, rests, cools, glowing red in the sun it stands as structures in porosity.
covered in moss and flowering fern, water trickles down the sides collecting in the hollows.
ants are at play in this maze as it crumbles into the red soil that covers the earth on which i walk.


laterite.

19th january, 2013

ever noticed how the city swims across the glass facades as you drive past them?

mosaic- city- western express highway