AVIBUS

AVIBUS

I am sleeping by the grass and sleeping quiet peacefully
i can feel the wind sway the grass and  it’s melancholy
For me sleeping on it and getting of it, hopefully
The tree offers me no protection
Against the sun to burn me; that’s its perfection
I bother not as i sleep on my stomach
Facing the grass defense poking me on my face
They call for aid from an ant hummock
I roll further away
Blocking the rest of the grass’s windy sway
Some of the grass has taken refuge in my bushy hair
Guess it was a pretty high bet to do so or a dare
I am done with my fun and games
I feel like my eyes are set in flames
I see the most beautiful sight on a pleasant afternoon
A little friend who got himself a nice tune
Roy

Freedom Man

Freedom Man

I sit on this ticket-less seat
Seeing people run, struggle to grab theirs
I do not care much about what’s happening down there
It’s normal for all those fast hares
The wind blows on my face and i feel light as a feather
The sun doesn’t boil me because of the wind, the perfect weather
If i fall, i fall to my death
And if i do, i’l take in my last fresh wind breath
I don’t care if people look at me
At least during in the boring station, they have something to see
I am the entertainer of life here
With no limits, nothing to fear
i have no shield, no spear
No love to shed a tear
I cannot be something so mere
To think about the complexity of the complex passengers
Am i the messenger?
Or am i the harbinger?
Of laughter,sadness,concern in people’s hearts?
As i arrive with pride and carelessness
I don’t think about them, i confess
If it’s safe or not; if you agree or disagree
I can care less, because i am free

Roy
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A quote for the picture, one of my favorites:
“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”
-Robert Frost

The Cold Indian Romance Part 1

The cold is breaking my bones, a simple pant and shirt is not the best dress to wear in this part of the region. My thoughts trouble me even when I am in a troubled situation! “Leave me alone! It’s not like you are going to save me!”  I am sleeping on the snow, 10 minutes of the most peaceful sleep I would have ever had and such a beautiful sight in front of me, Shiva’s home I can see it from here, his door step, his creation; its right in front of me, with an orange light covering the entire sky and making the mountain shine. It is morning.

I see a mystical sign, or is it my delusion due to the cold flowing through my veins. I close my eyes and I can feel the weight of my head nothing else, a heavy object in my head moving left to right, I open my eyes I see I am being dragged by huskies, I close my eyes. I open them again to see the dogs sniffing me, I feel dead, I can hear noises, an argument, and my senses are coming back to me, an elderly gentleman and two girls from the tones that I had picked up. What is happening?  I shut my eyes. Next thing I know, my eyes burst wide open as my lungs gasp for air and as my skin vents out steam as the warm water relaxes my muscles and warms my blood; I am in paradise. I am in a Marble floored swimming pool filled with hot water and I am naked. My white skin is now a mixture of red and white. I enjoy my moment of peace; I feel like I deserve it!

Just then a voice breaks the peace process;

“Tyaar Naam kya cha?”  (What is your name?)

I splash the water in surprise and look behind, near the door.

My eyes may deceive me but what broke my peace could be the one thing that could liberate me from peace itself!

A girl in a black sweater, white as the snow in which I was buried (as if my grave was calling me back to sleep in it) brown wrinkled Harem pants, her two pony tails were in front of her beautiful curved face with her sharp nose glimmering in red and her jet black eyes inspecting me, gazing with a lot of intrigues, but be blind or hazed by the cold winter snow; no one can miss out on those red lips.

“TYAAR NAAM KYA CHA?” (WHAT IS YOUR NAME?), she asks in a furious tone.

“TYAAR NAAM KYA…

MYAAR NAAM RAMSINGH CHA!” (MY NAME IS RAMSINGH!)

“TU KHAK REHANDI?  TYAAR GAON KAKH CHA? (“WHERE DO YOU LIVE? WHERE IS YOUR VILLAGE?)

“D-DHAR GAON MYAAR GAON CHA (DHAR GAON IS MY VILLAGE)

She doesn’t say anything but throws a coat, pant, underwear and a t-shirt.

She closes the cottage door; I realized that I am in a cottage… I come out of the hot spring and see the scars on my hands and chest and wear the clothes. I find a pair of socks and boots beside them; so I’m all decked up.  I feel warm and kind of shy.

I open the door and see another cottage in front of me with the huskies playing by the porch. One man on the right side of the cottage asks me to go inside as “he” is waiting for me.

I get pass the huskies who sniff my entire body as if they were the bomb disposal squad, I open the door and I see her again sitting by the dining table and an elderly man counseling her or telling her something; with his kind of tone one could expect that he would be giving people words of wisdom; but my fortunes might be otherwise.

“AAP HINDI BOLTEIN HAI KYA? (DO YOU SPEAK HINDI?) He asks me in a polite and gentle manner.

HAAN JI, HUM HINDI MEIN BAAT KARTE HAI (YES SIR, I DO SPEAK IN HINDI)

RAMSINGH JI, AYO BETHO HUMARE SAAT (COME RAMSINGH SIR, SIT WITH US)”

I sit down not noticing the pretty girl’s face but looking at the man with his grey beard and his muscular face and his glasses slipping off his nose.  The conversation begins.

“AAP DHAR GAON SE RAM GAON KYU AYE? APKA YAHA ANA KYA KARAN HAI? (WHY DID YOU COME FROM DHAR GAON TO RAM GAON, WHAT IS YOUR REASON TO COME HERE?)”

“JI, MEIN DHAR GAON SE BHAAG NIKLA AUR RASTE PE MUJHPE KOI HUMLA KIYE, MERI SCOOTER KO JALAKAR MUJHE BARAF PE DAFNADIYE “ (SIR, I RAN AWAY FROM DHAN GAON AND ON MY WAY HERE SOMEONE ATTACKED ME, BURNT MY SCOOTER AND BURRIED ME IN THE SNOW)

“OHO, TUM CHOR YA KATIL NAHI HAI NA, DHAR GAON SE KYU BHAG KE AYE? (OHO, YOU ARE NOT A THIEF OR A MURDERER ARE YOU?, WHY DID YOU RUN AWAY FROM DHAR GAON?)

“NAHI SIR, MEIN EK SIDHA SADHA LADKA HOON, MERI MAA WAHA KI SCHOOL TEACHER HAI, PAISE KE MAMLE MEIN; MERE AUR MAA KE BEECH MEIN LADAYI HO GAYI, TAB MEIN BORI BISTAR BANDH KE BHAAG CHALA DHAR GAON SE. (NO SIR, I AM A SIMPLE BOY, MY MOTHER IS A SCHOOL TEACHER THERE. DUE TO A MATTER OF MONEY THERE WAS A FIGHT BETWEEN ME AND MY MOTHER THEN I PACKED MY THINGS AND RAN AWAY FROM DHAN GAON)”

“AISE NAHI KARTE BETA, AAP APNE MAA KO PHONE KARO, WOH APKELIYE PARESHAN RAHENGI, PAISE KE JHAGDE MEIN APNI JAAN KHATRA MEIN KYU DAL RAHE HO? ( THIS IS NOT DONE SON, CALL UP YOUR MOM SHE MUST BE WORRIED ABOUT YOU, JUST FOR A FIGHT OVER MONEY ; WHY ARE YOU PUTTING YOUR LIFE IN DANGER?)”

“WOH MUJHE MARNE KE LIYE INTIZAR KAR RAHI THI, ABHI TOH SAHI MEIN UN KE LIYE MAR HI GAYA, AB MEIN APNA ZINDAGI JI SAKTA HOON AUR WOH UNKHI” ( SHE WAS WAITING FOR ME TO DIE, NOW I AM DEAD ACCORDING TO HER, NOW I CAN LIVE MY LIFE SO CAN SHE)”

“HMM… AB SUNHO BETA, AAPKA KYA HOGA SHAAM MEIN DEKHENGE, AB KE LIYE MERI BETI AAPKA KHAYAL RAKHEGI. (HMM… LISTEN UP SON, WHAT IS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN TO YOU WILL BE DEALT BY EVENING, FOR NOW MY DAUGHTER WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU).

“PARR CHACHAJI…” (BUT UNCLE …)

She steps aside as her uncle gets up.

They have a private conversation, but I can hear their whisper;

“BETA TU TOH USKI RAKSHAK HAI, USKA DHYAN RAKH MEIN SHAAM MEIN AAKAR PHAISLA LUNGA” (CHILD, YOU ARE HIS RESCUER TAKE CARE OF HIM, IN THE EVENING I SHALL COME AND TAKE A DECISION)”

I get up as he leaves; for he leaves with a smile.

I get the most arrogant and scared look from the girl who stole my pride.

We step outside the house and she asks me to sit near the Chai shop (tea shop) near the cottage and wait for her there. She hands me 30 Rupees.

I do as she says.  I go to the Chai shop and sit on the snow dusted bench where the old man asked me;

“Chai loge beta?” (Do you want some tea son?) I reply; “Ji Uncle. (Yes Uncle)

He orders an elderly lady to make the tea and as I look around and look at her go I just smile and have a warm feeling.

“BABU KI BETI BAHUT SUNDAR HAI NI?” (ISN’T BABU’S DAUGHTER BEAUTIFUL?) Asked the elderly lady handing my cup of Chai (Tea).

“HAAN BAHUT SUNDAR” (YES VERY BEAUTIFUL) as my smile makes my cheeks go red and my face quite warm.

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s in my pocket?

It’s raining heavily, and I have no idea what’s in my pocket. My cargo pants feel heavy; the brown has become dark chocolate and the white t shirt a transparent vest. I got a weird text in the morning, an unknown “Whatsapp message” telling me to stay out of the rain and to stay away from “her”. I didn’t bother. How would any person react to a threat message at 6 in the morning? This came to my mind when I was waiting out the rain. A little crowd at Sampath’s sweet shop, all wet, some of them trying to dry themselves another kid dying over his wet dead cell phone. I wanted to check what was there in my pockets which were making my cargo a bit heavy. An uncle interrupted me by asking me how long the rain would last; I just gave him a blank expression. He got my attitude, it’s still raining and it’s not showing any signs of letting out. The usual Indian crowd starts conversing to pass time and I wasn’t one of them, I became an outcaste in this new formed society. An annoying thought kept creeping up my nerves as I had to meet my friend who came back to town after a long while.  

I’m sitting by the store and it’s still raining, bored of thinking I go ahead to dig into my pockets to find out what’s in it? An aunty interrupted me by asking me, “Tame 500 mate badalo ache?” (Do you have change for 500?), I replied: “Hum mara khissa mam hoya che te janava, nathi,hum pheraphara hoya che sanka!” (I don’t know what’s there in my pockets, doubt I have any change!); she found me to be a dead end so she shifted her focus to the next person. Yet again, another person interrupted me before checking my damn pockets.

I get up and just think of having a smoke. See my lace open and covered with mud, I bend down and squeeze the muddy water out of the lace. Tie my shoelace. Get up.

A tight object or instrument of brute force comes and hits me and one of my eyes goes black with the reflex action, I bend down. My eyes could not visualize what had just happened in a second. The same instrument of brute force picks me up by the collar and gives me another whack and I fall back hitting the shutter. I get a clear image of which my molester is a molester. I retaliate ignoring of how big the man is, yet he uses my own force against me by hurling me on the rain fed road. I see my other molesters, surrounding me to give me their share of grudge against me. One kicks me in my ribs and I see hell, another tries but my adrenaline fueled body now stops it and tries pulling him down. Unsuccessfully the leg hits my jaw. My mouth is bleeding and the rain is washing it away and yet I am getting beaten up for a reason I know nothing of. I try reasoning with the man in front of me but he doesn’t stop slapping me, adding more pain.

People are just watching the scene where the helpless hero is getting beaten up by the goons in the rain; some are even eating samosas while I was on the floor. I give up on the fact that someone would come to my rescue. I give up completely, my white t shirt is now a black grainy wet torn one. My pant pockets are still heavy giving me a slight disadvantage in agility. I’m broken on the wet road and while these people are discussing something and I’m not able to see them because of the rain, I just think why not see if I can call someone or use something which might be there in my pockets.  Just then the big man came up to me and picked me up and was holding me mid air by my collar. I see his face clearly now. Beard, dark eyes, bushy eyebrows, round face, grumpy look with a grin, while I on the other hand have a very clean face; cut lips, bleeding nose, swollen eye, hair down.  I suddenly get the balls to kick this guy in the nuts, some football skills finally coming to good use apart from missing the goals! I land on the road and finally step back, the others rush hearing his agony but he stops them by showing some sort of a hand signal. I shout out my question, “Tame sum joito aslila nathi?” (What do you fucking want?) “Hum ke  kharaba temaja hova chatam koi rana nondhayo nahim karava mate pana laghumati nathi” (I’m not even a minority to get beaten up even though that is bad as well ). He laughed at me and said with a satisfied tone, “Ame pachalathi temani sathe ladava karase, hum tamane  janavava kamika che” (We will fight with them later, i have something to tell you).

“Te sum che?” (What is it?)

“Mari bhatriji dura raho! Te tame pasanda  kari parantu tame tena hrdaya phati! Te sambhoga  karya dvara tame anandadaykya para dhyanakarsaka ane pachi ayojana karavavam avyum hatum! “(Stay away from my niece, she liked you but you broke her heart! She was crying and then planned on pleasing you by having sex!)

“Bulasita!(Bullshit)”

“Hum karana ke teni sathe tuti temane mane be samaya hato!” (I broke up with her because she was two timing me!)

“Je sathe?(With who?)”, he asked with a perplexed tone.

“Amuka Rajakarani putra , Hiten parikh (Some politician’s son, Hiten parikh )”

“Tame tena santusta nathi to?”(You couldn’t satisfy her?) Asked one of the goons who was laughing his ass off.

I gave a blank expression and the big uncle looked towards his goon. “Apa sata”( Shut up) he screamed!

“Tamari sathe sambhoga karya vise sum?” (What about having sex with you?)

“Mari sathe te na nathi” (Not with me she didn’t)

“Chokara o jave de! (Boys let’s go!)”, he announced and off they went walking towards their jeep.

Nothing is going in my head except to check for my phone in my pocket, alas! Interrupted as the uncle stops by his jeep and says to me, “Sari vata tame teni sathe tuti!” (Good thing you broke up with her!)

I still have nothing to say to him and he goes.

The rain stops and I just sit by the shop again in agony and with people staring at me, I give them the “fuck off” look; I am finally going to check my pockets!

My left pocket has my phone with the screen cracked. My right pocket has some cash, 20/- and some bubble gum. My right knee pocket has a broken cigarette and a wet one. My left knee pocket has some coins.  I take out the cigarette and light it by the hanging lighter and smoke my lungs out. I just sit there waiting for a kick; I’m off again, to screw that bitch’s happiness.

As I put my head up I see this beautiful girl in front me having a concerned look and a bottle in her right hand.

“Ke tamara hathamam esida botala?” (Is that an acid bottle in your hand?)

She gave me a confused smile and told me, “ Koi murkha manasa!” (No you idiot!)

“Hum mara gharamam na ladai joyum” (I saw the fight from my house)

“Have te cigarette phenkavum ane mane tamara cahera batavo” (Now throw that cigarette and show me your face)

I do as she says without any hesitation, and here I am getting treated for my injuries by this beautiful girl who didn’t alarm anyone during the fight but waited it out and came to my aid by the Sampath’s sweet shop.

 

 

“Ovarane”

(The End)

 

 

Keep on travelling until you hit the spot!

Delhi, the land of enchantment for me. I have a lot of love for it because i haven’t seen much of it . Vague childish memories are the only way i can think about what really Delhi is or what it means to me. It’s like this place where i have to go to quench my thirst! Delhi the bazaar of capitals for every ruler who wanted to sit on the throne.  The moment the train stopped at “Delhi Cantt” (cantonment) my heart was thrilled. The people, the dry heat and the “taxi wala’s”.  The roads were busy, flowing traffic, streets were clean and there was lane discipline. My eyes were seeing about everything that they could see! The ironic thing was that the people going for work or going about their business found nothing exciting but for me it was otherwise! We reached the house and well it didn’t change from what i remembered or did it? I didn’t bother.

But the trip was short, Delhi was just a moment’s visit. I wanted to stay but the trip had to go on. Well the sites were amazing to see, we went to the dargha there, it was pretty good with the qawali singers just taking the visit to another level. 

A traveler will fall in love with this place without a doubt. Will you? 

The rich culture and history which has been the basis for what the city is known for today stands tall. 

Back to the railway station, i really feel kind of disappointed because i couldn’t spend much time in the city that i loved. The mellow drama cannot be explained here, it would get too mushy.

I was at my photography best trying to get out the most out of the surroundings. I did take some photo’s which i think that are good. But that will come soon once i get down with the real North trip.

 Wrapped around my camera bag

Sitting like the only stag

Without taking in a drag

Looking at a weird fag

Having a mindless nag

Searching for a unique picture

Hunting for the perfect structure 

Looking into each and every living soul

I finally found a bird, who fits the role!

Image

A fresh start for a stale mind

“You are completely lost in space, floating or moving i do not know!”

This cannot be happening that i am loosing my strength, where has it gone? I have always defended the weak, helped the poor, been good to others, balance the good and bad in me; yet i cannot find my strength.

Are the limitations of my body eating me up? Eating my thoughts up? The decisions of life matter to me form now on i shall take them wisely.

The people keep talking. But what great people have done over the time is not care of what others have to say.Period.

One does not have to change for them! One has to change for himself. 

Life was going on smooth. I made the biggest blunder of my life. It kinda gave me a flat tier. 

Now i am the one patching it up and fixing it. 

Patience and balancing are two key things i am stressing upon

Trust me people, these are very important things.

The final dirt has finally been removed. 

Feeling better.

The bullshit that men talk. 

Peace.