Remembering Ghaalib Saab

Ye na thi hamaari kismat ki visaal-e-yaar hota,
agar aur jeete rehte to yahi intezaar hota!

Koi Mere dil se pooche tere teer-e-neemkash ko,
Ye khalish kahaan se hoti jo Zigar ke paar hota!

Kahun kisse mai ki kyaa hai, shab-e-ghum buri balaa hai,
Mujhe kya bura tha marna agar ek baar hota!

Differently Lucky, Not Unlucky!

While I was growing up, I remember how I used to listen to my mother talking over phone to some relative about how a cousin of mine married a girl from a different caste and how this was a huge deal. I remember how getting involved in a love affair used to be and still is a huge deal for my family because according to them, parents are the ones who decide a life partner for their children. I also remember how I weird I felt at even the thought of spending my entire life with a complete stranger let alone an acquaintance. What if the partner and I aren't compatible? What if our likes and interests don’t match. What if we are never unanimous in our decisions? Do we separate? All these questions baffled me and I promised myself I would never marry a stranger. I would wait for the time till I fall in love with someone or someone falls in love with me and exchange rings. Little did I know that the theory on which I based my idea of a perfect love story and an ideal love marriage would turn out to be so flawed? Digging deep into the matter, it turns out that the theory is not flawed, it is just that the sample size that follows the theory is pretty small and I stand out of it.

A Journey till the End of Life

We all were enervated. Four classes, each 2 hours long had finally finished and I needed a break. A vent I should say and not just a break and a freshly brewed hot coffee to sooth the mephistophelean headache. Alankrit suggested that we go to the Indian Coffee House and, after the little discord that I usually have for every idea that is tabled across, we marched toward The Rivoli, next to which our dinner joint was located, as Alankrit kept on claiming.

A Chance At Living My Life

Choosing the name of my blog wasn't difficult for me. I knew what I wanted and I knew it quite for a reason. I knew I was writing the blog to post what's on my mind that can not be posted on other Social Networks. So I came up with "Heaven - and - Ocean" inspired mainly by Shelley's "Ode to The West Wind". My feet are in deep dead ocean whereas my thoughts reside in the limitless, unapproachable sky, was the reason behind choosing such an address for the blog. Just like my thoughts, my life is pretty much messed up too. One minute I am all happy and smiling and within no time something bad happens and spoils my mood. Deep down inside I am actually fearful of laughing as something bad might turn up again and sabotage my good mood.

It's All about Me

There are certain reasons why most of the posts on my blog are centered around me.

I am always thinking about myself, my life, the good memories, the bad ones (mostly bad ones as the good things lasted only for an year or two in these 22 years that I have lived for till now).

I am no pessimist. I am an ordinary man. What make my life extra-ordinary are unexpected stories about and around me. I feel like a celebrity all the times! Always in lime-light. For things that I do and also for the ones I do not do. For words I say and the ones I do not. For things I mean and the ones I certainly do not mean.

Actually when I look back and read my own statement that in 22 years, there have only been 2 years that I am really proud of, I opine about myself that I am the one at fault and not the world. That I need to change my attitude. But as I recently discussed with a friend a problem I was facing, it turns out that I am not cent percent wrong. People and situations are at fault as well. See how glad I am after the discussion.

Anyway, this post isn't about sad old memories. This is about why it is always about me!

Well, the answer is simple.

God loves me. God loves me in a special way. Treats me specially. I am like a Roadie who is given challenging tasks every day to test his perseverance.

In "Absolute Khushwant", Mr. Khushwant Singh writes about "Life, Death and most things in between". Who knows someday, when I am rich and famous, this blog of mine catches a journalist's eye and he/she and I pen down my own biography.

The Bestest Farewell Gift :-)

This one goes out for 2 great people I met and became friends with in my college life. It is a poem that they wrote for me. I don't have any words but this dedication in form of a note to express my feelings. I know it came a bit late but don't you know me?

May God bless you kids!

Snoopy, Jolly, Fun & Honest

are the words that describe you the best.

With the moves of Shakira, you've always lead us on the floor

and down-to-earth nature of yours is an applaud across the shore.

Knowing you has been a pleasure indeed

and we thank you for being there in every time of need.

Thank you for the memories, none being sour.

And the money you've lent, despite the 'Baniya' that you are.

And thus for you, we'd like to pray

before we fare you well today.

May you always have work for your hands to do.

May your pocket hold always a coin or two

for giving us the treats that are still due.

May the sun shine bright on your window pane.

May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.

May the hand of a friend always be near you.

And may you find a kudi, as pretty as the morning grass with little 

trinkets of dew.

And now before a leave we take,

there's a small promise we'd like to make.

The lovely bonding that's there will never die,

We'll hold strong onto all the memories and never say good bye!

Life..Oh Life..!!

There are times when you want to achieve a lot, and you know you can, but all you get is hopelessness in all your endeavours. You stretch your arms wide to grab stuff, you push a lot and all you get is air..simple plain air, nothing else. You dream big, you work for it and you don’t get what you had thought of. There are times..as strange and weird as they could be..

Well, LANCO was one of the many dreams that I had beheld in my eyes and it seemed quite achievable as well. I had prepared well for it. With the guidance of seniors already placed there, I had studied my subjects quite well..may be..

When Liberty Gets Chained..!!

Birds flying in the air
Touching the zenith’s height                                           
Butterflies going far and wide
Untamed by the enchanter’s might
Soaring through the clouds of disgust
When I land at the islands of peace
Caging my mind in the bottom of my memory
When i allow my heart to wander with ease..
I feel so jealous of these fellows
Who present a beautiful pageant
I feel so agonised at my plight
Being caged with desires nascent
I realise my powers being snatched
I see my emotions being stifled
Crying for help, for freedom
I’m left with thoughts so baffled
If subjection is the truth, then just take me away
If crying is my fortune, just take it away
Break the chains..!!
Give me a new sun, some new rays
Give me an angel, my fears may stop
Give me, oh Lord, some freedom , some liberty
Coz i wanna touch the sky..!!

All Is Not Well..!!

As soon as I gave the morning newspaper a look, an advertisement on the front page caught my attention. It read, “Fresh vegetables!.. Rates per Kg…Potato-Rs 260/-, Onion- Rs 340/-, Tomato- Rs380/-..”Further it said, “Cost of living is rising and it might be harder to cope with once you retire. Here’s a pension plan for you.”Finding it quite fascinating but true and assured of the credibility of the life insurance plan, it sold, I turned pages... 
After a few more pages, came another advertisement which said, “Yellow Peas Dal, only at Rs 26 per Kg!”After a few more details was written in hideous fonts, “Available in select,” and also written conspicuously was, “Jago Grahak Jago.”

INDIA: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Clad in tattered pieces of rags, with eyes desperately searching for some useful in the heap of garbage. With shaggy hair eclipsing the eyes, they ran barefoot on the unbearable sun hot metalled road. Within a couple of minutes, there came a group of fashionably dressed guys and gals (as they say it) in an ac car. Carefree they marched into a multistorey mall with all the fun and enjoyment. Standing under the shade of a tree at the nearby road was I, imagining and differentiating the two lifestyles, the people there and more importantly the consequences that might have lead to such a deep void.


This sight is not a big thing in countries like India where in addition to culture and language, social and economical class is the biggest divide. My recent visits to Gurgoan and my perception of life in such cosmopolitan and metropolitan cities, led me to conclude that the skyscrapers do make us feel that we (India) are progressing but we tend to forget that those (people) who sustain the lives of the riches (talking about the domestic helps and servants) are still in rags. Governments come and go but the tall claims at the time of voting are seldom fulfilled. The blame game never ends and if ever the government logically thinks of its own loopholes, “global recession” is where they find the escape route.

Education Falcified

While setting up the foundation of higher education post independence, professor Yashpal, a distinguished physicist and the former chairman of the University Grants Commission (UGC), had very honestly revered a “university” as an institution for holistic education and knowledge. But he had not thought in the worst of his dreams that after six decades the concept will mutate completely and they’ll become a money-minting machine for the vested interests of some unscrupulous men.

In order to provide education at higher level some 36 universities and deemed universities, which provided quality education in sciences and technical fields as well as facilities for research, were set up in India from 1956 to 1995. The trend continued but quality deteriorated. The condition today is such that there is a college providing technical education in almost every city and village, affiliate to one or the other university but many with dubious credentials.

Zindagi Badal Rahi Hai..

by Rishab Sinha

Shayad zindagi badal rahi hai..

Jab mein chotta tha, shayad duniya bahut badi hua karti thi..

Mujhe yad hai mere ghar se school tak ka wo rasta, kya kya nahi tha wahaan..

Chaat ke thele, jalebi ki dukaan, barf ke gole, sab kuch..

Aaj wahaan “mobile shop”, “video parlour” hain, fir bhi sab soona hai..

Shayad shaamein bahut lambi hua karti thi.

Mein patang ki dor pakde, ghanton udaya karta tha,

Woh lambi “cycle race”, woh bachpan ke cricket matches, har shaam thaak ke choor ho jaana..

ab sham nahi hoti, ab seedhe din dhalta hai aur raat ho jaati hai..

shayad waqt simat raha hai..

The Woman on Platform No. 3

It was a cold winter morning. The last day of a very happening and interesting year 2009. My semester exams had just ended and I was excited..very excited..coz it was the beginning of a new year, new thoughts and new life.


My journey began as I boarded the train to my home. The intermittent breaks it took at every station, the very same boarding and deboarding people made the journey lively and broke the monotony. Then I reached the New Delhi railway station where it was scheduled to stop for half an hour. Did I tell you that the train was from Bandra to Amritsar and that the very mention of a journey by train used to pound my heart with fond memories, which though were not there but were yet to be forged. In short, I was very excited. The station was under face lifting in full swing and the amalgamation of people from all the corners of India an even abroad presented a beautiful pageant. Coolies draped in red, pulled luggage from one platform to another. In the middle of this hullabaloo, I discovered a woman and immediately enquired about the platform number.

The Transformer..!!

My brother Aayush has always been very kind hearted and nature loving. He had a special love for stray animals- the cows and the cows that would roam untamed around the colony I had lived in for the past twenty years. These very stray but actually pet animals of his would get special treats every evening because he would ask mom to prepare extra chapattis for them. Someone’s birthday or mom and dad’s wedding anniversary would make their nights a scrumptious banquet. He would distribute the meals equally among all the guests. And you know what.. dogs would be his priority coz cows are herbivores and have other options too. As they collected, he would start showering his affection on them and would get a scolding from me, if I am present at the moment, for touching those filthy creatures, house to pathogens and germs..!!

Luck Factor

When was the last time you thanked god for something bad that happened to..? When was the moment when you did not yell at your being so unlucky..? Do you remember them. Frankly speaking, did these instances really exist in your life. Quiet a mind tickling question but we are human beings after all. Aren't we?

Cribbing for what we had always wanted but never got,craving for things we always cherished is as common as the sun rising in the east. Has anyone thought whats the secret behind other people getting their dreams fulfilled and not you? In short, has anyone pondered whats the logic behind every other person being more lucky than you? Well the following story will surely help you figure out a fact about the uncertainities in your life.

Happiness Gift-Wrapped..:-)

Friday, August 20, 2k10


Though it’s August 23, that I was born 20 years ago but my dear buddies had left no stone unturned in making me shell out money for Lafangey Parindey, the latest release on Friday to mark it as my birth day celebration. The clever Rishab applied brains and abstained himself from coming to college on Monday coz it was a planned bunk, the day of my 20th b’day anniversary. Nitish and Rishab tried hard to make the party a big hit but all our plans fizzled out as soon as we saw “The End” which was a complete anticlimax. A thousand bucks that I had spent purchasing tickets and meals for the 1st day 1st show screening burnt quite a hole in my pocket.


Monday, August 23, 2k10


With the weekend preceding and an off on Tuesday succeeding my big day, I was left quite alone in the hostel with Pawan, my roommate and some mavericks who too consider going home a waste of time.”This is gonna be the worst and the loneliest of all my birthdays”, I sub-vocalised and reiterated in my mind but that didn’t deter me from waking up 12 on the midnight of August 22, to receive calls, if any.

I Have To Move On..

The journey began as I stepped out determined,
Eyes beholding dreams so highly defined,
Loyal to work, I paved my way,
Hoping someday glory shall come my way.
But the path was forested and quiet less traveled
And I had wanted to make a difference.
Cautions were many, helping hands were less.
Advices proved enough for my stamina to suppress.
The faster I moved, the lower dipped the success rate,
critics and cheats had disguised as my mates.
Results didn’t reciprocate the input of my work.
Deceived and unheard, I was left alone in lurch.
Dead ends and steep slopes did me press,
Unfulfilled promises, goals not reached were my distress.
Analyzing my situation and thinking profoundly,
A heavenly light dawned upon me.
Despite the odds, despite the failure,
The path traveled held high esteem, for sure.
The destination reached is a function of time,
Perseverance and hard work are of importance prime.
So burying dead thoughts and bridging the chasm,
Unmindful of success, of my journey’s path,
I marched ahead with vigor and enthusiasm.

Strange Days

It Was The Same Morning

The Sun As Bright As Usual

But The Breeze Was Serene

And The Birds Were Chirping

And The Clouds Were Clear

Don’t You Think It Was A Strange Day

As No One Was Abused,

No One Conspired and NO One Was Accused

Yes It was A Strange Day

Not A Bomb Exploded And Not A Man Killed

Trains & Buses Ran On Time

And There was No Accident NO Crime

No Banks Were Looted And no One Was Murdered

Animals Were Not Poached And Trees Not Injured

Definitely It Was A Strange Day

Politician Didn’t Smell Of Corruption And No One Was Involved In Any Destruction

Newspaper Spoke Of Goodness And Everything went On Right

As There Were No Controversies To Highlight

Certainly It Was a Strange Day

As People Didn’t Fight And Were Unanimous To Pray

As No One Was Duped and No one Caught

But It Was a Dream, A Utopian Thought

A Thought That Can Never Materialize

As Greed And Immorality Are One Rise

Patriotism Is Being Overshadowed By Chauvinism

And Religion Being Engulfed By Fundamentalism

So Stop This, Stop This, Before We Face Something more amiss

Don’t Blame The people, Don’t Blame The Leaders

Just Be A Medium Of Change Yourself

So That Life Can Easily Run On Track

And Strange Days Are Brought Back