Now that's what I call an Evening!

SE with the CEO

It has been, as it should have been, first NRN and then Nandan. I would have said Mr. Nilekani but we are supposed to call everybody by their first names. The occassion was Infosys Excellence Awards 2005 and Nandan had descended to Mysore, by choice as he said. A very friendly and nice person to talk to, he makes you feel special while talking to him. He corrected me when I called him a "9 pointer in college" and said that on the contrary he was a "much relaxed" guy and nowhere near 9.

I am all ears!

I further asked him the same question which I had asked NRN, and as expected the reply wasn't any different, though laced with his trademark humour. He obliged the all the autograph mongers, choc-a-bloc with their names and a personal message. No wonder why NRN handed over the reigns of the firm to him.

Mobbed by the junta

The award function followed, with all the DCs videoconferenced. Shabana Azmi was the guest of honor at Bangalore. Having topped FTII and won every award for acting in India at least thrice, she was a befitting candidate for the honor. The awards rolled in, and it was IVS all the way ending up as the most decorated department. And it had to be ... it's my IBU afterall!

Before

The high point for the crowd of course was the free dinner and the DJ which followed, and Boy, did it rock? So with two more days to go for the New Year, it seems a nice run up the Eve before I bid adieu to Mysore.

After

It happened one night.

My craving for music is insatiable, and for some days I've been trying to search sites which can play Indian songs online with windows media player support, because I can't install real player or other software on the PCs here. I knew a couple of such sites, but got really bored listening to the same songs again and again. And guess what, I struck gold. I found this site which has this collection of old hindi film songs, some of them rare ones. I didn't like old hindi film music when I was a child, which is natural because it needs mellowness to actually enjoy it, and it has like soft moss, slowly but steadily, grown upon me over the years. Most of these songs were played overnight, again and again (much to our chagrin!) from the carefully assorted cassettes in the dashboard, during the long car journeys to MP, when Pop used to drive, Mum by his side and all of us, sleepy or agog trying to make sense of it all.
So I started the day(night?) with "yeh mera prem patra padh kar", a song reverberating with the innocence and the pureness of first "love" and brought back the images of the days when "love letters" were written, torn, thrown away and sometimes with much audacity, left on "the person's" desk to be bemusedly found when she returned. Not to mention the storm and the gossip rounds which followed as a result of such gallant acts. While I was smiling all by myself, the track changed and came along an all time favourite, "Ajeeb dastan hai yeh". There's something about this song ... Lata's voice, the lyrics, Meena Kumari, the melancholy, the guitar notes, the pain of unrequited love ... I wouldn't know what. Perhaps all of these in small unmeasured doses, recreating that sweet magical feeling. The songs kept playing ... "rasik balma","woh bhooli dastan, lo fir yaad aa gayi", "khoya khoya chaand","gumnaam hai koi","jab chali thhandi hawa" and many more, each came with a special moment, forgotten to be remembered ... frozen by time, thawed by the warmth of these magical renditions, keeping me snug while the night kept rolling by swiftly ...

Smoke!

A young Amrita Pritam, madly in love with Sahir, once wrote his name hundreds of times on a sheet of paper while addressing a press conference. There's was a profound, though strange relationship.They would meet without exchanging a word, Sahir would puff away; after Sahir's departure, Amrita would smoke the cigarette butts left behind by him. After his death, Amrita said she hoped the air mixed with the smoke of the butts would travel to the other world and meet Sahir. I just wish that now, that she has herself become smoke ... she can be one with Sahir in some other world.

Annie's Song

You fill up my senses,
like a night in the forest,
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain,
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean,
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again...

Come let me love you,
let me give my life to you
let me drown in your laughter,
let me die in your arms
let me lay down beside you,
let me always be with you
come let me love you,
come love me again...


~John Denver

I've been itching to put this beautiful song up on my blog for some time, so beautifully rendered by Denver. It is all over me and I have been humming it right from the pot to the pool. What better day than this to put it on ... Yuletide, eh?

Hallelujah!

It is again that time of the year, the time for carols, time for festivities, for presents and loads of fun. I love the spirit, and absolutely nothing religious about it. I regret that we didn't celebrate Diwali, like we are celebrating Christmas, probably because all the HRs and most of the people were on vacation. Nonetheless, who cares what the reason is? The cristmas tree has been right at the entrance of the GEC for a couple of days now. Me and Donald on our way back from the music room (and the Pantry for a late night snack), just out of the whim decided to pose with the tree. Trecilla, Aubrey and the rest of the gang, Thanks for doing up the tree for us.

Merry Christmas, all you people. Be Good!

Khwaab Bunein...

Aao ki koi khwaab bunein kal ke vaaste,
varnaa ye raat aaj ke sangeen daur ki,
das legii jaan-o-dil ko kuchh aise ki jaan-o-dil,
taa-umr phir na koi haseen khwaab bun sakein,

jo hum se bhaagti rahii ye tez-gaam umr,
khwaabon ke aasre pe katii hai tamaam umr,

zulfon ke khwaab, honthhon ke khwaab, aur badan ke khwaab ,
meraaj-e-fan ke khwaab, kamaal-e-sukhan ke khwaab,
tehziib-e-zindagii ke, farogh-e-vatan ke khwaab,
zindaan ke khwaab, kuuchaa-e-daar-o-rasan ke khwaab,

ye khwaab hii to apnii javaanii ke paas thhe,
ye khwaab hii to apne amal ke asaas thhe,
ye khwaab mar gaye hain to be-rang hai hayaat,
yuun hai ki jaise dast-e-tah-e-sang hai hayaat,

aao ki koi khwaab bunein kal ke vaaste,
varnaa ye raat aaj ke sangeen daur ki,
das legii jaan-o-dil ko kuchh aise ki jaan-o-dil,
taa-umr phir na koi haseen khwaab bun sakein...


~Sahir

sangiin daur = hard/difficult times
taa-umr = entire life
tez-gaam = fleet-footed
meraaj-e-fan = (to reach) summit of art
kamaal-e-sukhan = perfection in poetry
tehziib-e-zindagii = civilized life
farogh-e-vatan = nation's progress/upliftment
zindaan = prison
kuuchaa-e-daar-o-rasan = road leading to the gallows
amal = work
asaas = foundation
hayaat = life
dast-e-tah-e-sang = hands crushed under a stone (helpless)

Stupor

"Her mind is Tiffany twisted
She's got the Mercedes bends
She's got a lot of pretty, pretty boys
That she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard
Sweet summer sweat
Some dance to remember
Some dance to forget"

Yes, we danced in the delirium ... who the fuck wants to remember ?

Get Drunk!

Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"


~Charles Baudelaire

A day well spent!

Okay, the albatross is finally off my neck, and I am so glad it is. And it turned out to be a nice day unexpectedly. Tottered back to my room and ordered a mushroom-onion pizza after we got the "news". Gorged on it all by myself, while drooling over Gisele Bundchen on TV. In between also came to know that India has had a field day at the Motera test. Smiles again!
Then hit the bowling alley with Abhilash, and how! We blew up one whole grand between us, and played "i-dunno-how-many" frames on the trot.

Blue Fuzz!

Lost some and won some (That's the way it works, honey!). They had turned the neon lights, on and we were literally in the "blue" and add to it the rocking music that they play. I get the kicks out of that place!

My first S-T-R-I-K-E of the day!

Raided the pool room, played pool until dinner time, tucked in Malai Chicken with Lachcha Parathha for dinner, checked Outlook for mails, called Gugs, Beast and Ding, came back to my room, heard the song "Do naina, ek kahani" and kept humming it again and again, ended up watching "Sparsh", starring Naseer and Shabana.

Boogie-Woogie ... Bowling shoes!

And as is my wont, became nostalgic over the good ol' DD days, having seen it years ago. A day well spent indeed, a nice one in quite some time. Things turned out my way, kicked ass, had fun, did things that I wanted to, and all that throughout the day. As it ends, all I can say is ... all's well that ends well!

Right Here, Right Now!

Hip Hop never sounded better in an Indian flick, until ofcourse "Bluffmaster"! Rocking video, better song!

When you are old...

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep ;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face ;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars...


~William Butler Yeats

Shahar Ke Dukaandaaron

Shahar Ke Dukaandaaron, karobaar-e-ulfat mein,
sood kyaa ziaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
dil ke daam kitne hain, khwaab kitne mehnge hain,
aur naqd-e-jaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

koi kaise milta hai, phool kaise khiltaa hai,
aankh kaise jhukti hai, saans kaise rukti hai,
kaise reh nikalti hai kaise baat chalti hai,
shouq ki zabaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

wasl ka sukoon kyaa hai, hijr ka junoon kyaa hai,
husn ka fusoon kyaa hai, ishq ke daroon kyaa hai,
tum mareez-e-ranai, maslahat ke shaidai,
raah-e-gumrahaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

zakhm kaise phalte hain, daagh kaise jalte hain,
dard kaise hota hai, koi kaise rotaa hai,
ashq kyaa hai, naale kyaa, dasht kyaa hain, chhaale kyaa,
aah kyaa fughaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

naamuraad dil kaise, subah shaam karte hain,
kaise zindaa rehte hain, aur kaise marte hain,
tum ko kab nazar aayi, ghamzadon ki tanhaai,
zeest be-umaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

jaanta hoon main tum ko zouq-e-shaaiyari bhi hai,
shakhsiyat sajaane mein ik yeh maahiri bhi hai,
phir bhi harf chunte ho, sirf lafz sunte ho,
un ke darmiyaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...


~Javed Akhtar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wasl = meeting with the lover ; Hijr = seperation ;
Fusoon = Magic ; Ranai = Beauty ;
Maslahat = Prudent Measure, A Good Thing ; Shaidai = Lover ;
Fughaan = Lamentation ; Dasht = hands (here) ;
zeest be-umaan = life without cheer ;
zouq-e-shaiyari = interest in poetry ;

Death!

Humein yeh bhi thhaa ghanimat jo koi shumaar hotaa,
humein kyaa buraa thhaa marnaa agar ek baar hotaa ....

~Faiz

Persistence of Memory

Persistence of Memory, Oil on Canvas, Dali

Starry Night

Starry Night by Vincent Von Gogh

Kaisa geet likhein?

Dil ke ujale kaagaz par hum kaisaa giit likhein,
bolo tum ko ghair likhein, yaa apanaa miit likhein?

niile ambar kii anganaaii mein, taaron ke phool,
mere pyaase honthon par hain angaaron ke phool,
in phoolon ko aaKhir apanii haar yaa jeet likhein?

koi puraanaa sapanaa de do aur kuchh meethhe bol,
lekar hum nikley hain apni aankhon ke kash-kol,
hum banjaare preet ke maare kyaa sangeet likhein ?

shaam khadi hai ek chameli ke pyaale mein shabnam,
jamunaa ji ki ungli pakde khel rahaa hai madhuban,
aise mein gangaa jal se raadhaa ki preet likhein ...


~Dr. Rahi Masoom Raza

Zehal-e-Muskin

Zehal-e muskin makun taghaful,
duraye naina banaye batiyan,

ki taab-e hijran nadaram ay jaan,
na leho kaahe lagaye chhatiyan,

Shaban-e hijran daraz chun zulf wa roz-e waslat cho umr kotah,
Sakhi piya ko jo main na dekhun to kaise kaatun andheri ratiyan,

Yakayak az dil do chashm-e jadoo basad farebam baburd taskin,
Kise pari hai jo jaa sunaave piyare pi ko hamaari batiyan,

Cho sham’a sozan cho zarra hairan hamesha giryan be ishq aan meh,
Na neend naina na ang chaina na aap aaven na bhejen patiyan,

Bahaqq-e roz-e wisal-e dilbar ki daad mara ghareeb Khusrau,
Sapet man ke waraaye raakhun jo jaaye paaon piya ke khatiyan


~Amir Khusro

Translation:

Do not overlook my misery by blandishing your eyes, and weaving tales;
My patience has over-brimmed, O sweetheart, why do you not take me to your bosom.

Long like curls in the night of separation, short like life on the day of our union;
My dear, how will I pass the dark dungeon night without your face before.

Suddenly, using a thousand tricks, the enchanting eyes robbed me of my tranquil mind;
Who would care to go and report this matter to my darling?

Tossed and bewildered, like a flickering candle,
I roam about in the fire of love;
Sleepless eyes, restless body, neither comes she, nor any message.

In honour of the day I meet my beloved who has lured me so long, O Khusro;
I shall keep my heart suppressed, if ever I get a chance to get to her trick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This poem shows the brilliance of Amir khusro, and was a daring experiment in those times. The lines of the poem are alternately in persian and brij bhasha. It was due to experiments like these that a pidgin language called Urdu originated. The first line of this poem was filched by Gulzar in a famous (and well written) song of his for the movie "Ghulami".

Waqt

jism kii baat nahin thii, un ke dil tak jaanaa thaa ,
lambii doorii tay karne mein vaqt to lagtaa hai ...

gaanthh agar lag jaaye to phir rishte ho yaa dorii,
laakh karein koshish khulne mein vaqt to lagtaa hai ...

humne ilaaj-e-zakhm-e-dil to dhoond liyaa lekin,
gehare zakhmon ko bharne mein vaqt to lagtaa hai...

~Hasti

Tum Pukar Lo...

Tum pukar lo, tumhara intezaar hai,
tum pukar lo ...
Khwaab chun rahi hai raat beqarar hai,
Tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...

Honth pe liye hue dil ki baat hum,
Jaagte rahenge aur kitni raat hum,
Muqtasar si baat hai tum se pyaar hai,
Tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...

Dil bahal to jaayega is khayal se,
Haal mil gaya tumhara apne haal se,
Raat ye qaraar ki beqarar hai,
Tumhara intezaar hai...

~Gulzar

O Maajhi Re...

O maajhi re...
O maajhi re...
Apna kinara ... nadiyaa ki dhaara hai
O maajhi re...

Saahilon pe bahnewale, khabi suna to hoga kahin,
Kaagazon ki kashtiyon ka kahin kinaara hota nahin,
O majhi re, maajhi re...
Koi kinaara jo kinaare se mile woh apna kinaara hai ,
O maajhi re...

Paaniyon mein bah rahe hain kai kinaare toote hue ,
Ho raaston mein mil gaye hain sabhi sahaare chhoote hue ,
Koi sahara majh-dhaare mein mile jo, apnaa sahaaraa hai...
O maajhi re apna kinaara nadiyan ki dhaaraa hai ,
O maajhi re...


~Gulzar

Tagged!

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

The tag above is so very err... European... I am happy being an Indian though!

SE7EN Things I Plan To Do:
1. Go to the laundromat and wash all the blasted rags that have taken residence on my chair! (Highest Priority!)
2. Bungee Jump... fall freeeeeeeeely... soar
3. Go to Ranu Raraku, Easter Islands off the coast of Chile.
4. Learn to play the guitar better ... someday...
5. FOCUS on things I do/want to do.
6. Buy my very own i-Pod ... it's fast becoming a necessity!
7. Plan for the next seven things ... tee hee :D

SE7EN Things I Can Do:
1. Stay awake thru nights for no reason at all.
2. Tie a pony ... Yeah baby, finally!
3. Let things slip off my mind darn easily :)
4. Smile all by myself...
5. Blow up my own money ... what a respite,huh!
6. Talk (no big deal , eh?)
7. Swear (no big deal , either?)

SE7EN Things I Can’t Do:
1. Take care of my hair ... the f***ing things just won't stay in place...
2. Salsa .... Gawd, I so much wanted to attend the classes that Radhika (Boy, is she HOT?) takes. 3. Gym regularly.
4. Wake up early (Ma , I still can't do it!)
5. Study while listening to music (it's blasphemous to music!)
6. Stay quiet for long.
7. Manage my time ...

SE7EN Things I Say Most Often:
1. Gawd!
2. Bullshit!
3. Hi, what's up?
4. Aur bolo... (pent up violence surfaces after ppl have had enough of this!)
5. Achcha, ek baat suno...
6. Thank you/The pleasure is all mine
7. Sure

SE7EN Persons I Want To Tag:
1. Kanu (Yeah, tag you back! :D)
2. Gugs (Now there, u r tagged!)
3. Bobby
4. Rishabh (Get a blog, will u?)
5. The Sarangi (Hey, I am sticking to the DEAL!)
6. Bhai
7. Sumit (abey Jha too hi hai!)

Saamaan

"Ik dafaa woh yaad hai tumko,
jab bin batti ke cycle ka chaalaan huaa thha,
hum ne kaise bhookhe, pyaase, bechaaron si acting ki thi,
hawaldaar ne ulta humko ik athanni de kar bhej diya thhaa....
ik chawanni meri thi...
woh lautaa do...
Aur bhi kuchh saamaan tumhaare paas pada hai
Woh bhijwaa do..."

~From Gulzar's "Ijaazat"

Rendezvous

Falling like ninepins ...
back they come,
the lovely sins,
too few, as they sum...

sins... they were,
some carnal, some loverly...
the sweet aftertaste, intoxicating ...
ah, but not soberly

a run across the desert,
a glimpse to catch...
of the twinkle in her eyes...
and dreams to hatch ...

he ambles in,
his eyes kiss hers,
rustle of skin, the first touch
first sonnets of the verse...

side by side on the ricktey bench,
talking eyes and silence between,
twitching hands get closer,
joy and rendezvous unforeseen,

a soul lost in weary dreams,
content and unaware,
of throbbing hearts,
near her, somewhere...

in the consternation,
they discuss books and Ray,
but underneath,
the love holds sway...

the train creaks in,
and up they go,
he dozes, she looks on...
behold and lo...

an obscured clasp of hands,
notices, not a soul,
but the two of them,
hurried glances that they stole,

yes, sins they were,
some carnal, some loverly...
the sweet aftertaste, intoxicating...
ah, but not soberly...

~Maanu

Sounds of Silence

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence

~S&G

Bheegii Yaadein

Palat ke jo dekhaa,
Aankhein hui nam,
Aayaa nazar jab,
Adhooraa saa jeewan,
Jeewan...aayaa, mujhko nazar...

Tootay...
Tootay waaday,
Ujray...
Ujray sapnay,
Tootay...
Tootay waaday,
Dhoondein waqt ke narm saaye.
Kal bhi thha khandahar
Ab bhi hai veeraan
Mangay hai jeewan,
Pal bhar sahaaraa...

Yaadein...
Bheegi yaadein...
Gham se...
Soney na dein...
Yaadein...
Bheegi yaadein...
Yaadein...
Jeenay na dein...

Palat ke jo dekhaa...
Aankhein hui nam
Aayaa nazar jab adhooraa sa jeewan...
Mangay hai jeewan,
Pal bhar sahaaraa...

~Salman (Junoon)

Rhymes and Reasons

So you speak to me of sadness
And the coming of the winter
Fear that is within you now
It seems to never end
And the dreams that have escaped you
And the hope that you've forgotten
You tell me that you need me now
You want to be my friend

And you wonder where we're going
Where's the rhyme and where's the reason
And it's you cannot accept
It is here we must begin
To seek the wisdom of the children
And the graceful way of flowers in the wind

~ from Rhymes and Reasons by John Denver


John Denver, the greatest!

Tere ishq mein

tere ishq mein, haaye tere ishq mein
raakh se rookhii, koyale se kaalii
raat katey naa, hijraan waalii
tere ishq mein, haaye tere ishq mein

terii justajoo, karte rahe
marte rahe, tere ishq mein
tere roo-b-roo, baithhe hue
marte rahe, tere ishq mein
tere roo-ba-roo, terii justajoo
tere ishq mein, haaye tere ishq mein

baadal dhune, mausam bune
sadiyaan gineen, lamhe chune
lamhe chune, mausam bune
kuchh garm thhey, kuchh gungune
tere ishq mein, baadal dhune
mausam bune, tere ishq mein

tere ishq mein ... haaye-haaye tere ishq mein

tere ishq mein tanhaaiyaan
tanhaaiyaan ... tere ishq mein
humney bahut, bahalaaiyaan
tanhaaiiyaan ... tere ishq mein
roosey kabhii, manavaaiyaan
tanhaaiyaan ... tere ishq mein

mujhe toh kar, koi din gayaa
mujhe chhed kar, koi shab gaii
maine rakh lii saarii aahatein
kab aai thhii shab kab gaii
tere ishq mein, kab din gayaa
shab kab gaii, tere ishq mein

tere ishq mein ... haaye-haaye tere ishq mein

raakh se ruukhii...

dil ??? thaa
hum chal diye, jahaan le chalaa
tere ishq mein, hum chal diye
tere ishq mein, haaye tere ishq mein
main aasmaan, main hii zameen
geelii zameen, seelii zameen
jab lab jale, pee lee zameen
geelii zameen, tere ishq mein...


~Gulzar


This song takes love to another level ... it has to be felt, savoured and it grows upon you, like soft green moss. Immacculately Gulzar, this song rendered amazingly by Rekha Bharadwaj and composed by Vishaal couldn't have been any better. Like all the other songs, this is one of the many songs that I LOVE, have listened to them again and again, hummed them, cried listening to them so much so that they have become a part of me and express the melancholy within, there's no better way to do it ....
During those lonesome nights in the glow of the tablelamp, by the window with not a soul in sight and nothing but the radio to keep me company, these songs have stirred me and provided succour at the same time with their silken touch, with their warmth...
Thanks RedFM and Radio City for those nights ...

Breaking News : NRN meets Amit K Singh!

"(TNN, by our special correspondent) 17th Nov 2005, MYSORE: The Chief Mentor of Infosys Technologies Ltd. Mr. N R Narayan Murthy called upon Mr. Amit K Singh at their Mysore development facility in the aftermath of the BIAL fiasco. He discussed the circumstances under which he chose to resign as the BIAL chief. They addressed the Infoscions from the common dais and also disclosed the date of opening of the Hi-Tech multiplex in the Mysore DC. Almost the entire DC turned up to witness the meeting.

They were eventually mobbed by the trainees, specially the girl trainees who all wanted to shake hands with Mr. Singh. Mr. Singh assured all of them that he'd personally shake hands with them, on a first come first serve basis later. They had to be escorted amid tight security due to the frenzied mob."

Okay, now that I am laughing my guts out, let me cut the crap out. NRN addressed all the trainess here at 4:30PM IST and talked about Infosys values et al. There was frenetic activity all over the DC since morning and everything was spick and span before he arrived. After he started the address, the dais was mobbed by cam, camcorder and cam cellphone weilding mob , and flash bulbs popped and went on until almost ten minutes into his address.

There was something about the way he spoke with complete conviction and panache. He spoke about how he started the company with Nandan, M D Pai in 1981 with Rs.10,000 and now that Infy is about to be a $2 billion bellwether, every rupee invested has earned around 71 lakh rupees.Shook hands with him amidst pleadings (by others) of increasing our paycheque. I couldn't grab the microphone to ask him the question that I wanted to due to the guy(#@*#!) who was passing it in the audience, but I made up for it, by asking him in person, later! It was nice listening to him in person, having read and heard about him ..... and yes he did tell us about the dates of the about to be opened multiplex!

Aasmaan ke paar

Aasmaan ke, paar shaayad

aur koi aasmaan hoga...

main hawaa,

ke paron,

pe kahaan,

jaa rahaa hoon kahaan...

Trying the to capture the various shades of the sky here , these are some of the pics that I took during my stay in Infy, Mysore.

La-Whore!

"Lahore—the ancient whore, the handmaiden of dimly remembered Hindu kings, the courtesan of Moghul Emperors, bedecked and bejeweled, savaged by marauding hordes. Healed by the caressing hands of successive lovers. A little shoddy... like an attractive but ageing concubine, ready to bestow surprising delights on those who cared to court her—proudly displaying Royal gifts," writes Bapsi Sidhwa in her introduction, quoting from one of her earlier books, "A Pakistani Bride" in her latest anhotlogy on the city, "City of Sin and Splendour: Writings on Lahore".
Having always been fascinated by the city and brought up on a generous diet of stories, movies and tid-bits of factoids about the city, I've always wanted to visit it as it is. My first brushes with this city was through an Indian "tale of two cities" which was aired once a week on National TV called "Buniyaad", then came Chugtai and Manto, "Garam Hawa" and "Tamas" and ofcourse the cricket matches with camera panning to capture "honey shots" of stunning women wearing shades. Probably I have a fixation with Pakistani women, I don't know.
The city's discussion can't be complete without it's domes, minarets, Kinnaird College , gardens and it' s red light area, Hira Mandi (and the eating place there, Cuckoo's).
The City has bled, turning the waters of the Raavi red but has endured the gashes and stabs to have come out scarred and mellowed. There probably is something about Lahore like Lucknow and Delhi which is dying but ... isn't that a part of the continual evolution? Probably I can sometime visit the city which is like a "bitch in heat on a sultry summer afternoon" before the cycle of evolution moves over...

Infy Rabbits

Here they are the two infy rabbits,

but they have very stark habits,

one sleeps early the other late,

one is timely the other procrastinate,

one promptly has breakfast, the other misses,

one rumbles and the other hisses,

but yes, they are friends all the way through,

one is Singh and the other is Zhu...

Raina

Jaag ke kaati saari raina,
Nainon mein kal oas giri thi,
Jaag ke kaati saari raina,

Prem ki agni bujhti nahin hai,
Bahati nadiya rukti nahin hai,
Saagar tat bahate do naina,
Jaag ke kaati saari raina,

Rooh ke bandhan khulte nahin hain,
Daagh hai dil ke dhulte nahin hain,
Karvat karvat baanti raina,
Jaag ke kaati saari raina,

Nainon mein kal oas giri thi,
Jaag ke kaati saari raina ...

~from Leela

Jabse qareeb ho ke chale

Jabse qareeb ho ke chale, zindagi se hum,
Khud apne aaine ko lage ajnabi se hum,

Jabse qareeb ho ke chale, zindagi se hum,
Woh kaun hai jo paas bhi hai aur door bhi,

Har lamha maangte hain kisi ko kisise bhi,
Jabse qareeb ho ke chale, zindagi se hum,

Ehsaas ye bhi kam nahin jeene ke waaste,
Har dard jee rahe hain tumhaari khushi se hum,

Kuch door chalke raaste sab ek se lage,
Mil lega kisi se milaaye kisi se hum,

Kis mod par haiyaat ne pahoncha diya hamein,
Naaraaz hain ghamon se na khush hai khushi se hum...

Karim's

Delhi is the place for the incorrigible "foodie" to be in. And "Karim's" is among the brightest of the stars in the galaxy of many and often gives "Bukhara", Maurya Sheraton's restaurant a good run for it's money. Just beside Jama Masjid with its old world charm, it was set up by the cooks in the Mughal kitchen, and every bite makes you feel so. The street outside though, is a desecration of its past. And probably the mughalai cuisine here is the best that you can ever get.
Gugs introduced me to this place and the rest is, as they always say, history. Infact she has been my partner in crime in raiding the eating joints of Delhi, and we kept discovering things as we went about our food sojourns. And "Karim's" just happened to be our first target folllowed by Naivaidyam, Village Cafe and other hapless ones. The softness of the kababs, the aroma, the charm and to top it all, the taste , it's sheer bliss. It's waiters dressed in pathan suits; the ones in khaki serve water and the ones in maroon, who probably are higher up in the "organizational heirarchy" take orders. Soon after you've placed your order the food arrives in trademark china deep dishes accompanied by a small steel dish which stumped me the first time. Only later did Gugs tell me that it was for the bones!
I've almost made a habit out of telling people about this amazing place, and still more, I love bringing them here. Infact "Karim's" has always been a special place ever since I came here first. The rides in the Metro with Gugs, hitting the "Chor Bazaar" with bhai and the gang at 7 am and later gorging ourselves over Chicken Burra, Bobby's treat and walking bare feet in the grand dilapidation of the Jama Masjid ... how I wish , I could turn back time...

Baavraa Mann

Baavraa mann dekhne chala ek sapnaa,
Baavraa mann dekhne chala ek sapnaa,

Baavre se mann ki dekho baavari hai baatein,
Baavari sii dhadkane hain baavari hai saansein,
Baavari sii karvaton se nindiaa kyon bhaage,
Baavre se nain chaahein baavre jharokhon se,
Bavare nazaro ko taknaa,

Baavraa mann dekhne chala ek sapnaa,

Baavre se is jahaan mein baavraa ek saath ho,
Is sayaani bheed mein bas haathon mein teraa haath ho,
Baavri si dhun ho koi baavra ek raag ho,
Baavre se pair chaahein, baavre taraano ke
Baavre se bolon pe thhirakna

Baavraa mann dekhne chala ek sapnaa,

Baavraa saa ho andhera, baavri khamoshiaan,
Thartharaati lau maddham, baavri Mudhoshiaan,
Baavraa ek ghunghtaa chaahe, haule haule bin bataye
Baavre se mukhde se saraknaa

Baavraa mann dekhne chala ek sapnaa
Baavraa mann dekhne chala ek sapnaa


~ from Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi

The Virgin

"...When I moved into your bed I was not alone-there were two of us A married woman and a virgin. To sleep with you I had to offer the virgin in me, I did so. This slaughter is permissible in law, not the indignity of it. And I bore the onslaught of the insult. The next morning I looked at my blood stained hands. I washed my hands, but the moment I stood before the mirror I found her standing there, the one whom I thought I had slaughtered last night. Was it too dark in your bed, I had to kill one and I killed the other ?..."


~Amrita Pritam (translated from the original Punjabi by Kartar Singh Duggal )

Tumhari Amrita...

Ajj akhan Waris Shah nu,
kittey qabran wichon bol
te bol kitab ishq da, koi agla warqa khol

Ik roi si dhee Punjab di,
te tu likh likh mare wain,
ajj lakhan dhiaan rondian,
teinu Waris Shah nu kehan,

uth dard wanda - bedardiaa,
uth tak apna Punjab,
ajj belay lashan wichhian,
te lahu di bhari Chinaab,

ajj sabhey kaido ban geye,
a husn, ishq te Chor
ajj kithun liaye labh ke
ik Waris Shah ik hor
Ajj akhan Waris Shah nu..

~Amrita Pritam (1919-2005)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Translation)

Today, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave”
And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate page

Once, one daughter of Punjab cried; you wrote a wailing saga
Today, a million daughters, cry to you, Waris Shah

Rise! O’ narrator of the grieving; rise! look at your Punjab
Today, fields are lined with corpses, and blood fills the Chenab

Someone has mixed poison in the five rivers’ flow
Their deadly water is, now, irrigating our lands galore

This fertile land is sprouting, venom from every pore
The sky is turning red from endless cries of gore

The toxic forest wind, screams from inside its wake
Turning each flute’s bamboo-shoot, into a deadly snake

With the first snake-bite; charmers lost their spell
The second bite turned all and sundry, into snakes, as well

Drinking from this deadly stream, filling the land with bane
Slowly, Punjab’s limbs have turned black and blue, with pain

The street-songs have been silenced; cotton threads are snapped
Girls have left their playgroups; the spinning wheels are cracked

Our wedding beds are boats, their logs have cast away
Our hanging swing, the Pipal tree has broken in disarray

Lost is the flute, which once, blew sounds of the heart
Ranjha’s brothers, today, no longer know this art

Blood rained on our shrines; drenching them to the core
Damsels of amour, today, sit crying at their door

Today everyone is, ‘Qaido;’ thieves of beauty and ardor
Where can we find, today, another Warish Shah, once more

Today, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave”
And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate page

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Noted author Amrita Pritam passes away
[ Monday, October 31, 2005 07:55:43 pmIANS ]

NEW DELHI: Well-known Punjabi literary figure Amrita Pritam died Monday. She was 86. ..."

Thus reported Hindustan Times of the demise of one of the greatest proponents of the pen. The light has gone out of our lives, no wonder it was raining like there's no tomorrow here in Mysore on Diwali night, even the sky was mourning. But amidst the TV channels dedicating hours of "on air" time celebrating Aishwarya Rai's and SRK's birthdays on 1st and 2nd november respectively, I know there'd be a few for whom the pain will linger on.
There'd be many who like me owe her for the facets of man that she has showcased. I owe her for the gloomy afternoons spent pouring over "Rasidi Ticket", "Ek thi Anita" and the rest. Especially "Rasidi Ticket" for showing what a relationship can be and not. Sahir and Amrita ... the melancholy of unrequited love.There'd be still many who must have weeped through the night, after she exorcised memories that they had buried deep within.
Thanks Anu, for letting me read all these books that you brought, for I can't think about Amrita without thinking about you. The light has sure gone out, but the iridiscence will stay forever...

Frivolous...

Of late , a lot of my attention had been brought to something as quaint as milk. Me hating "curd" (milk's manifestation) all these years an now relishingly "rediscovering" it. A chinese friend who relishes Lassi and dares to go alone to a shanty "dhaba" to savour it. My ma, pestering me to have the white liquid more often on phone from across thousands of kilometers.
It also brings to my mind how I mentioned it in the finals of personality contest metaphorically, the audience couldn't get the drift and i blew it up all. Makes me hum a very jazzy jingle from one of my favourite ads "peeyo glassful doodh ..."(KK sung that!) for the operation flood. It brings back memories of my days spent interning for an NGO in a quaint Orissa tribal village where a friend and the Project co-ordinator told me anecdotes of now the orissa government tried to replicate operation flood there and it failed miserably, because the tribals consider it a prerogative of the calf. So much for the common sense, eh!
And when I am criticizing the Indian Cricket team's performance , somewhere Veeru (arrey apna Sehwag) retorts "Doodh shoodh peena padta hai...".Heated discussions refuting "manekas"(gandhi) claims that milk is non vegetarian and can put the very existance of mankind at peril. Ho hum ....

"The Cow is of the bovine ilk,
At one end, moo, at the other milk"

~Ogden Nash

PS: only the quote is by Nash, duffer!

Siyaahi

yeh aasmaan mein siyaahii bikher di kisne,
hamein thaa shauq bahut is mein rang bharane kaa....

~Faiz

Hasrat

Saalon se hai ik hasrat si,
jaaney kya hai ye ghaflat si,

ki tanhaayee mein bheeg jaayein palkein,
sondhe aansuon se ye samaa mehkey,

aur aaye "koi" is veeraane mein paas,
lagaa de in palkon par koi marham khaas,

de apni baahon ka bistar,
chun le is dil ke nashtar,

par, khud se hi shaayad ye guft-a-goo si hai,
chhoti sii yeh ik aarzoo si hai,

jaane kyon poori nahin hoti,
jo saalon se hai ye ik hasrat si,
jaaney kya hai ye ghaflat si ...

~maanu

Ek kudi

Ek kudi jeda naam mohabbat, saaaand murati soni fabat
(A Girl, whose name is love, simple, dainty a lovely sight)

Gum gum hai, gum hai, gumm hai, Gum hai, gumm hai
(she is Lost.. Lost.. Lost.. She is lost)

Soorat usdi paarian wargi, Seerat di oh Marium lagdi
(Her face a fairy's likeness, temper a picture of Mother Mary)

has di hai taa fullne chad te, tordi hai ta gazal hai lagdi
(When she laughs the petals fall, When she walks a melody plays)

lam se lam saru kad di, umar ache hai par ke agdi, par naina di gal samajhdi
(Her Years are still of nascence, but the language of eyes, she comprehends)


Ek kudi jeda naam mohabat, saaaand murati soni fabat
(A Girl, whose name is love simple, dainty a lovely sight)

Gum gum hai, gum hai, gumm hai, Gum hai, gumm hai
(she is Lost.. Lost.. Lost.. She is lost)


Gumian janam janam ne hove, yun lagde jiven kal di gal hai,
(She is lost from many births ago, though it seems an affair of yesterday)

Iyun lagde jiven aaj di gal hai, iyun lagde jiven hun di gal hai…
(Why,It seems an affair of today... Why,It seems this moment affair)

Hun te mere kaun khadi si, Hun te mere bol rahi hai
(Just now she stood by my side,talking to me...and now she has vanished)

eh ki chaal hai, eh ki bhatkan, soch meri hairan badi hai
(What trick, what chase in this, my senses they are mystified)

aande jaande har raste te, meri nazar ohnoo tol rahi hai…..
(My eyes search for that girl on every passing street)


Ek kudi jeda naam mohabat, saaaand murati soni fabat
(A Girl, whose name is love simple, dainty a lovely sight)


Us kudi noon meri sohn hai, Us kudi noon apni sohn hai
(I call out to that girl in my name, I call out to that girl on her name)

Us kudi noon sab di sohn hai, us kudi noon rab di sohn hai…
(I call out that girl in the name of all, I call out to her in name of god)

us kudi noon jag di sohn hai
(I call out that girl in the name of the entire creation)….

Check da paki surti hovay, Junede javo par rai hovey
(If she reads or hear this, If she be alive or dying)

Ek vaari aa ke mil jave, Vafa meri nu dak lave
(Come and meet me once, Do not sully my devotion)

Naita mein nu jiya na janda, Geet koi likhya na janda
(Lest i can't live, Nor write a song anymore)

Naita mein nu jiya na janda
(Lest i can't live)


Ek kudi jeda naam mohabat, saaaand murati soni fabat
(A Girl,Whose name is love simple,dainty a lovely sight)

Gum hai, gum hai, gumm hai, Gum hai, gumm hai....
(she is Lost.. Lost.. Lost.. She is lost)


~Shiv Kumar Batalvi
(Sung by who else but Rabbi!)

Peeli Dhoop

Peeli dhoop mein chhui-mui si nahayee hui, tum
aur kaun sa rang dhoondoo main tumhare liye,

peeli mehndi liye hathelion mein ithlayee hui si, tum
aur kaun sa rang dhoondoo main tumhare liye,

peeli khushq zameeen par girti gungunee boondon si, tum
aur kaun sa rang dhoondoo main tumhare liye,

aansuon se dhuli peeli maazi ki yaadon mein, tum
aur kaun sa rang dhoondoo main tumhare liye,

dil mein putee hui rogan si, tum
jaaney kyon seel gayeen in deewaaron mein, tum
kyon zamaney ke sang badrang ho gayeen, tum

sochta hoon fir bhi aaj main,
aur kaun sa rang dhoondoo main tumhare liye...


~
Maanu

Tere khushboo mein basey khat

Tere khushboo mein basey khat main jalaataa kaise
pyaar mein doobey huye khat main jalaata kaise
tere haathon ke likhe khat main jalaata kaise

jin ko duniyaa ki nigaahon se chhupaaye rakhaa
jin ko ik umr kaleje se lagaaye rakhaa
deen jin ko, jinhein imaan banaaye rakhaa

jin kaa har lafz mujhe yaad thaa paani ki tarah
yaad thhe mujh ko jo paigaam-e-zubaani ki tarah
mujh ko pyaare thhe jo anmol nishaani ki tarah

toone duniyaa ki nigaahon se jo bachakar likhe
saalahaa-saal mere naam baraabar likhe
kabhii din mein to kabhii raat mein uthakar likhe

tere khushboo mein basey khat main jalaataa kaise
pyaar mein doobey huye khat main jalaata kaise
tere haathon ke likhe khat main jalaata kaise

tere khat aaj main gangaa mein bahaa aayaa hoon
aag bahate huye paani mein lagaa aayaa hoon...


~Rajendranath Rahbar

Tere Bin

Tere bin / besides you
sanu sohnia / my love
koi hor nahio labhna / i shan't find another
jo deve / who'll give
rooh nu sakoon / peace to my soul
chukke jo nakhra mera / and indulge me

ve main sare khumm ke vekhya / i have gone and seen it all
amrika , roos, malaysia / america, russia, malaysia
na kittey vi koi fark si / there wasn't any difference
har kise di koi shart si / they all had some condition
koi mangda mera si sama / some asked for my time
koi honda surat te fida / some were fascinated with my face
koi mangda meri si vafa / some demanded my fidelity
na koi mangda merian bala / none wanted my demons

tere bin / besides you
hor na kise / my love
mangni merian bala / i shan't find another
tere bin / besides you
hor na kise / no one else
karni dhup vich chhan / shall shade me in the sun

jiven rukia / (the) way you paused
si tuu zara / slightly
nahion bhulna / i shan't forget
main sari umar / all my life
jiven akhia si akhan chura / you said, looking away
"rovenga sanu yad kar" / "you shall weep in my memory"
hasia si main hasa ajeeb / i laughed a strange laugh
par tu nahi si hasia / but you didn't
dil vich tere jo raaz si / you had a secret in your heart
mainu tu kyon ni dassya / why didn't you tell me
tere bin / besides you
sanu eh raz / none shall tell this
kise hor nahion dasna / secret to me
tere bin / besides you
peerh da ilaaj / what druid
kis vaid kolon labhna / has the cure to my ills

milia si ajj mainu / i found today
tera ik patra / a letter of yours
likhia si jis 'te / on which you had scribbeled
tun shayr varey shah da / a varis shah couplet
parh ke si osnu / upon reading which
hanjoo ik duliya / a teardrop fell
akhan 'ch band si / what was locked in the eyes
eh raaz ajj khulia / was revealed today
ki tere bin / that other than you
eh mere hanjoo / these tears of mine
kise hor / won't be kissed by
nahio chaungna / none else
ki tere bin / that other than you
eh mere hanjoo / these tears of mine
mitti vich rulnha / will wither in the dust


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Probably the best song of Rabbi, the way he seamlessly backs the beautiful lyrics with his powerful vocals is amazing. A very beautiful song, sung beautifully by the evangelist of punjabi rock. This song will make your eyes misty.... listen to it if you haven't.

Musings

"We all have a streak of madness and we shouldn't try losing it, because it's that which drives us" .... this is my pet line that I tell people when I am at my philosophical best. It's this madness which makes our lives worth living or else it would be boring. The monotony will get the better of us.
The other day, amidst the strummings of my guitar (yesirrrrrrrrrr I am taking guitar lessons from Jacob) the three of us, me , Jacob and Asoka sat there on the stairs of the amphitheatre discussing about the absoluteness or the relativeness of life. Jacob ofcourse came out with his biblical references, the inveterate Christian that he is. I sat there long after both of them left, playing the chords which Jacob had taught me and brooding over what this streak has made me do and what it will. And all this, in perfect realisation of the fact that it was the madness which makes me practice those chords at the dead of the night (or was it morning?).
Its the madness which made me and Asoka discuss ourselves and ofcourse our pet topic "Relativity" upto 6 in the morning when we knew we had a RDBMS module test from 9am that very morning. He says he'll break relativity and I say he can't because "Relativity" is inherent in nature... it is basic, it is fundamental and he is nothing but a victim of this inescapable fact. From Physics to philosophy its all around us, and has always been there, all it needs is someone who will recognize it. Nothing in the world is "good" or "bad" , there are just shades of grey. "Good" and "Bad" are two unachievable extremes of the same entity, between which everything rests. The moment we try to classify something as "good" or "bad", the very moment we "relativitize" it trying to benchmark it against something. This is a bloody godforsaken paradox.
Even Asoka realizes this fact, though he might not admit because like all of us he has also been gifted with that streak and it will drive him all that he can, to disprove "relativity".
It is this madness which makes us Love and Believe. Believe in ourselves and Love itself. It makes us cross the miles to savour the smile in someone's eyes. It is this madness which makes you believe that life would lose its meaning without that significant "one". It is this which makes your eyes misty, reminiscing of that familiar scent of the "one", that touch, that voice ....

And this very madness is making you read this 'incoherent BS', don't lose it, relish it, nurture it, let it bloom ...it's precious.
Amen!

Khaali haath shaam aayi hai

Khaali haath shaam aayi hai,
Khaali haath jaayegi,
Aaj bhi na aaya koi,
Khaali laut jaayegi...

Aaj bhi na aaye aansoo,
Aaj bhi na bheege naina,
Aaj bhi ye kori raina,
Kori laut jaayegi ...

Raat ki siyaahi koi,
Aaye to mitaaye na,
Aaaj na mitaayee to ye,
Kal bhi laut aayegi ...

~Gulzar

Is Waqt

Is waqt toh yoon lagta hai, ab kuch bhi nahin hai,
mehtaab na sooraj, na andhera, na saveraa,

aankhon ke dareechon pe kisi husn ki chilman
aur dil ki panaahon mein kisi dard ka daira,

mumkin hay koi wehem tha , mumkin hay sunaa ho
galion mein kisi chaap ka ik aakhri phaira

shaakhon mein khayalon ke ghaney paed ki shayad,
ab aa kay karegaa na koi khwaab baseraa,

ik baer, na ik meher, na ik rabt, na rishta
tera koi apna, na paraya koi mera,

maanaa kay yeh sunsan ghadee sakht kadee hai,
lekin mere dil yeh to faqat ek ghadee hai

himmat karo jeenay ko toh ik umr padee hai...

~Faiz

Yaad

Aaye kuchch abr, kuchch sharaab aaye,
us ke baad aaye jo aazaab aaye,

kar rahe thhey gham-e-jahana ka hisaab,
aaj tum yaad be-hisaab aaye...

~Faiz

Aao fir koi nazm kahein

Aao fir koi nazm kahein,
fir kisi dard ko sahla ke suja lein ankhen,
fir kisi dukhti rag se chhua de nashtar,
ya kisi bhooli huee raah pe mudkar,
ek baar naam lekar kisi humnaam ko aawaaz hi dein lein,
aao fir koi nazm kahein...

~Gulzar

Infosys

"Powered by Intellect, driven by Passion" .... so goes the Infy punchline and it hasn't been more apparent than now, now that I am a part of it and jostling to be in the thick of things. It's been a couple of weeks or thereabouts that i've been here and finally I seem to have overcome the awe. Conjuring something like this Campus out of the wilderness that Mysore is is really a Houdini act. It appeared more like a resort where unfortunately, i thought, i'd have to work. The past couple of weeks have gone by enjoying the spoils of this place, the bowling alleys, the poolside, the huge TT room, the squash courts, basketball courts, the foodcourts, even the long winding roads and the landscaping in campus, and the huge edifices of the Global Education Center or the GEC as it is called here. Watching this campus is a delight, and it reflects Infy's aspirations of being the top software services firm globally. It is the largest Software Development facility in the world, for that matter...
But there's where the honeymoon ends, the baptizm started with the technical course material that we got yesterday and the pressure has started mounting. It was de ja vu wading my way through the footpaths through the untimely but pleasant drizzlimg, holding an "Infosys" umbrella at 0330 hrs in the morning, coming back to my room from the Software Development Block 2 (SDB2, which houses my cubicle) after completing my 9th program of the day. And I happy and sad at the same time, because of reasons both professional and otherwise. There was a sublime melancholy about being lonely, all alone by myself in campus which houses around 4000 people. But it was just a thought, people were still going on with the drudgeries of life, the workers at the food court 1 were stacking up chairs, GEC was bustling with people preparing frantically for their comprehension or "compre" test, the watchmen trudging their girth around in their raincoats. This place never sleeps.
It's 2200 hrs, as I am writing this in the Cybercafe at the top of the GEC, with SDB2 beckoning me for the Day2 assignments, tomorrow's just going to be another day at work...

Tajjub

Hairan hoon is baat par,
ki aaj tak kuchch likha kyun nahin,
harfon ke taaney baaney mein uljha kyon nahin,

masroof raha har shauq-e-tabiyat mein,
qalam aaj tak dil se lagayi kyon nahin,
aisa nahin ki, nahin thha padhne ka shauq humein,
lekin phir bhi lafz dil se kabhi zabaan par aaye hi nahin,

jo misre aaj tak anjaane thhey,
jo tanha, pur-lutf guzare zamaane thhey,
kyon de rahe woh aaj dastak khidkiyon-darwaazon par,
kyon kah rahe aaj, ki humein bulate kyon nahin,

kyon chhalak rahe aaj palkon se parey,
woh khat jo usne mere naam kare,
likh raha hoon aaj lekin usko uski hi jaanib se,
yaad usi ki aayi hai, lekin aaj labon par muskurahat kyon nahin

hairan hoon is baat par ki aaj tak,
kuchch likha kyun nahin,
harfon ke taaney baaney mein uljha kyon nahin...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much to my own dismay,
out of my own self disarray
I wrote this on a sultry, languid August afternoon
and happens to be my first Urdu/Hindi croon,
kudos and critiques will be delightful,
lest they are not insightful ....