my first poem

Where have you gone?

Conflicting emotions
Fears and apprehensions
The soul cries out
And gropes for light.
The mist refuses to rise.
Chaos abounds,
Lonely and desperate,
I long to confide.
No ray of hope,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

Encumbered heart,
Crimson, wet eyes,
Anxieties escalate,
Smiles fade,
Chasing my dreams,
I am lost.
Horizon awaits,
Enigmatic whispers
Beckon my name,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

A kaleidoscope of memories,
I reach out to touch,
But, they fly by
Illusions on golden wings.
Nostalgia grows,
Suffocating me
Agony declines to abate,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

Love craves,
Passionate desires,
Feeble fantasies,
Virtual realities,
You elude me.
My beacon dims,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

a stupid story which i titled, The Power of Love

“You do not love me anymore. When I married you, I thought you would love me forever. How can love die?” I entreatingly looked at my husband and hot tears brimmed in my eyes. I fell back on the couch, unable to control the tumultuous upheaval of emotion that wildly gripped my heart, and buried my tear stained countenance in my shivering hands. My husband had turned red too. His face grew hard and an unyielding and obstinate look crept into his eyes. He strode up and down the room, striving hard to regain his calm and placid composure. He failed. Turning back at me he snapped brusquely, “I can’t tolerate you anymore. It is you who has changed and not me. You always start these petty quarrels and our bickering escalates into arguments which give me more pain than they do to you. Your insensible and harsh words wound me and you expect me to turn a blind eye towards all these failings on your part and become your humble and submissive slave. Sorry, my self-esteem does not permit me to do so. If you want to leave, I will not stop you.” He walked into the study and banged the heavy oak door shut. It made me jump out of my seat and it’s echo resonated against my heart. The shock gradually set in and my incessant sobs faded into the morose atmosphere. Suddenly, in a swift movement, I wrapped my shawl around my frail body and walked out of the house.

My feet took me to the neighbourhood park, where I found solace whenever my soul was burdened. The golden sunset calmed my troubled mind. I decided to take a long walk while dusk was setting in, which reflected the melancholy that I felt within me. Suddenly, I noticed two silhouettes among the bushes. I stopped and stared hard into the darkness to discern their movements. The shadows came closer and I saw two suspicious looking men approaching me. One of them was short but had uncommonly long arms. He had a broad chest which struck a stark contrast with his stout small legs. He also had a receding hairline which contributed largely in making his forehead appear exceptionally big. The other man was tall and lean but was younger than his companion. Both of them looked grotesque and strange and seemed to belong to a caricature magazine. My heart was beating fast and I realized that I had unconsciously strayed into the most secluded part of the park. A chill ran down my spine and I turned to run, but instantly two pairs of strong hands grabbed me around my waist and held a strange smelling cloth over my nose. Immediately, a nauseating feeling seized me and the world started spinning around me and gradually gave way to darkness.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a dimly lit room with my hands and legs tightly bound together. Any movement brought with it a surge of pain and I lay there cursing myself for everything, from fighting with my husband to taking the walk. I wept and wailed for help, but no one came to my rescue, except the vicious laughter which came from the other side of the wooden door. I decided to help myself. With great effort, I got up and checked the tiny room for any crevice that would bring in a ray of hope for my escape. As I searched the place, I heard the villains speak into a telephone. Then, I heard them unlock the door and instinctively, I crouched in a corner. My abductors entered and informed me that I would soon be free as my husband had agreed to pay up the ransom. Just the thought of my better- half brought tears to my eyes.

I looked irately at the mean fellows. They brought in food on a platter and kept it in front of me. Out of the blue, an idea dawned upon me. I asked them, “Do you expect me to eat with my hands bound together?” The tall man looked at the short one, waiting for his instructions. The short rogue scorned at me and replied, “Untie her hands, Mike. You ain’t gonna dare to do anythin’ funny, Missie, are you?” I glared at him. How dare he underestimate the power of a woman!

I caught them in bewilderment, when unexpectedly; I hurled the plate at the tall man which hit him hard on the forehead and sent him crashing on the floor. The short scoundrel was too dazed to act fast and I took advantage of the moment by striking him hard on his head with a broken metal chair. I quickly hobbled to the door while they were still recovering from the shock and locked it up, thereby imprisoning my captors in their own trap. I then untied my legs and ran as far as they could carry me. To my utter amazement, I found myself on the highway in the outskirts of the city.

I took my way towards the town and when I saw a police van speeding towards me, I jumped and waved frantically and screamed my lungs out for them to stop the vehicle. They did and I was flabbergasted to see my husband emerge from inside the automobile. He took me in his arms and wrapped the shawl around my trembling body. [ "yay!!" thats me, the author! lol]

Later, I was told that when my husband came after me to the park, he did not find me but stumbled over my shawl in the bushes. He got suspicious and anxious and sought the help of the police who tapped my home’s phone lines. When the foolish kidnappers called up to demand money, the police were easily able to locate them. I related the tale of my escapade and moved closer to my husband when I saw admiration in his eyes. The police were able to capture the thugs without much trouble.

I returned safely home with my husband and when we were inside the house, I looked into his eyes and whispered mischievously into his ears, “You can’t get rid off me so easily, because this adventure has made me realize how much I love you.” He held me tighter and whispered back, “I love you too.”

my editorial for the wall mag

On the night of March 1, 2002, a mob attacked the Best Bakery building owned by the Sheikh family in Hanuman Tekdi, Vadodara. It was one of the most notorious acts of violence committed in the aftermath of the Gujarat riots, in which 14 people were torched to death in the ovens of the bakery. The Best Bakery case and Zahira Sheikh became the symbol of the Gujarat carnage. Zahira Sheikh lodged the FIR in which she and her family members identified people from their locality in the mob. Until a month before the trial, Zahira was one of the most strident fighters for justice. But in an unexpected turn of events, she and her family retracted evidence in the Vadodara court in May 2003, creating a huge controversy. Following the new testimonial, the Vadodara Sessions court acquitted the 21 accused. This stirred social activist Teesta Setalvad, of the NGO Citizens for Justice and Peace, who brought Zahira's family to Mumbai and offered them help and protection in their quest for justice. They approached the National Commission for Human Rights, which appealed to the Supreme Court for a retrial of the case outside Gujarat. The Supreme Court ordered the retrial after Ms Sheikh said that her testimony in the first trial followed threats, but she backtracked again last month. Ms Sheikh's sister-in-law, Yasmin Sheikh, testified that Zahira changed her statement after accepting bribes.

The Best Bakery trial, which had become symbolic of the quest for justice in Gujarat, has also taken the most exasperating twists over the last couple of years, continually threatening to thwart the truth. This case is not the only one in which witnesses are asked to compromise. It tends to happen not only in most riot cases, but also in other legal matters. Our legal system is so slow and expensive that victims prefer to get on with their lives than bother with court cases. There has been no pressure from the government’s side to effect a speedy trial of the case. The system has failed these witnesses, who now fear for their lives and are thus turning hostile. The government should have provided for the security of the riot victims.

Behind the Sheikh family's constant shifts between fact and fiction, seems to be not only money but also a tussle between their quest for justice and the risk to their own lives if they spoke against those who have the upper hand. They have to keep quiet if they want to return home. And yes, money is needed to rebuild a life that has been burned to cinders.

The 2002 riots left a deep scar on the Muslim minority in Gujarat, many of whom still live in constant fear. At least 1,000 people, mainly Muslims, died in Gujarat's Hindu-Muslim riots. In every communal riot, there are hundreds of victims, who do not have the courage to stand up against the assailants. Adding to their woes is a criminal justice system that is skewed. Every commission constituted till date has recommended measures to punish the guilty and bring relief for victims, but such promises lie only on paper. While the BJP spent its tenure trying to justify the pogrom, the Congress has drawn political mileage out of exposing the BJP’s ‘communal face’.

But the Gujarat battle, like many others, may just remain a long drawn quest for justice.
The grand irony would be if, in this tangled mess of contradictions, the accused are freed, and the Sheikhs are jailed for perjury!

hmmm.... poor effort at composing a few lines

Silent tears born

Of unrequited love.

Nurtured dreams torn

Wounded pride begotten.

A smiling mask

Concealing grief,

Biting agony and

Insult, unbearably brief.

Consequences,

Delightfully morbid,

Innocent pretensions

Vanishing,

Wisdom now acquired.

Beautiful moments burnt,

An illegitimate past stolen,

Nonchalant present bequeathed

A bleak future woven.

Trust’s cold blooded death,

Illusive mirage-her faith.

Feigned camaraderie sported,

Convincing deceiver rewarded.

pigeon trouble

God! Today’s been weird! A pigeon flew into my room in the morning!!! Ok, I live in an area where we are surrounded by these ‘cute’ birds. Well, it seems they took our affection to heart! Very conveniently it flew into my room and perched on top of the tube light. My brother refused to help. He said that it was scared (so was I, but who cares) and would fly out and so we shouldn’t bother! In fact, he even told mama to put some grains of rice on MY study table where it can fly down and have lunch or breakfast! (it was morning!) I say, he could have carried the ‘cute’ bird to his room and built a nice nest for it to live in! I had to vacate my room for it to stay in. mama laughed and said that animals love me so much they always pursue me! (Quite true, you know…) anyhow, the bird finally flew away after holidaying in my room for a few hours. Weird life I lead!