Heart to Heart

  Wayanad: wails and valour The saviours; and the saved ‘Wayanad’. A sparkling gem of pristine beauty. The green oasis that munificent Mother Nature has  bestowed on the lap of beautiful Kerala. And, overnight, “Wah Wayanad” has turned into “Oh  Wayanad”. What was once a metaphor for nature’s wonder and beauty now shudders with shrieks and  screams of suffering people and sighs and wails of orphaned children giving us goose  pimples of unspeakable sadness over the havoc. Why then we wouldn’t shed tears of shock and horror  at the tragic devastation visited upon it this monsoon? A man-made disaster it is, as a renowned  ecologist Madhav Gadgil has said; aggravated of course by heavy incessant rains. See what the dirty,  greedy, insane human hand with his axe and spade, chisel and hammer, machines and mechanics has  wreaked upon this jewel in Kerala’s crown. Prajeesh: who turned 'god' Bhavana: the 'super mom'   Looking at the whole spectac...

  “Na dainyam, na palaaynam” In the sunset years of life, we often dig up old memories from the caverns of our lived history. They come in myriad avatars: some delightful and naughty, some wrapped in sorrow and guilt, some sizzling with blush and shame, and some raring to leap out to tweak your ears for foolish, silly blunders and acts of omission and commission. But yet, what an interesting panorama they present on the whole before you of the unfurling, flowering and then slow fading out of an individual in the journey of life. The little story above (published as 'middle' in The Tribune, 21 Jan 2015; read the text below) is about a little misdemeanour engineered by me (with my pals) as a schoolboy in our bid to awake to freedom, as it were, from the well-intentioned but rather overzealous imposition of an extra class by our math teacher. What had made it worse was his addictive love for the ‘rod’. And, to complement and supplement it, his sharp, acid-coated tongue that coul...

                              वन्दे मातरम्       भर प्रेम - अश्रु नैनों में , दिल में सत्कार , हो नतमस्तक , करता हूँ नमन तुम्हें  मैं मेरी भारत माँ आज भोर के उज्ज्वल पन्नों में सूरज की स्वर्णिम किरणों से सुरों में ढालूँगा राग मैं तेरी महिमा का आज बोऊंगा  पुष्प-बीज मुहब्बत के अनेक मैं तेरे हर उपवन में और सींचूँगा ले जल  गंगा - जमुना से लगाऊँगा पेड़ वृक्ष ऊंचे व  हरे-भरे  सहलाने को तेरा सुंदर वदन शीतल वायू के हर मृदु चुंबन से करूंगा विनती  हिम-शिखाओं से कि रखें तेरा आँचल बेदाग नहला के सदा नित अपने धवल हाथों से कहूँगा सतलुज , ब्यास , कावेरी को कि रखें  तेरी सुंदर काया कोमल  निर्मल अपने जीवनदायी जल से बोलूँगा सूरज , चाँद-तारों को भी कि करते रहें धूप , चाँदनी की  आँख-मिचोनी तुमसे बहलाने तेरा मन करूंगा आग्रह विशाल हिमालय से कि आने न पाये कोई दुश्मन , सीना तान रहना खड़े सदा प्रहरी बन   कहूँगा पहली सूर्य किरण को धीरे से झाँके तेरी ओर , सपनों कि दुनिय...

  Climate change Armageddon: letter to CM Sukhu ji Respected Chief Minister Shri Sukhu ji, Namaskar. I am aware that like my earlier one of 14 October ‘23 imploring you for a total shift to “Evergreen Himachal of smiling Himalayas”, this communication too is destined to find no audience with you. However, as a deeply worried and anxious in-love-with-Himachal, fellow Himachali – though ordinary – I feel impelled to keep shouting and ringing the alarm bells of climate change that is now so visibly and tangibly upon us. Like a rapacious Armageddon, it is running amuck– out to ravage and destroy all that the bountiful Mother Nature has bestowed on our hill state with such generous abundance. I hesitate to sound like a doomsayer akin to Cassandra. But I must share what I witnessed a few weeks ago. In early June when sun blazed like a malevolent orb, I embarked on a short drive from my Palampur town towards Dharmshala. The sight that greeted my heat-weary eyes was nothing short of ghastl...

  On sex                         Isn’t ‘sex’ a taboo word? A strict ‘no-no’? The “forbidden fruit”? A “besharam”, sinful, “chhi-chhi” word that, when uttered in the company of genteel people, evokes a shocked, hushed, hand-over-mouth collective cry of “Hai Ram!” and “Hai Toba!”? Quite naturally therefore, a shudder passes over me even before I begin to summon my muses to say my bit on this hush hush subject... Daunted also because of the flip side to it when with our perverted mindsets we abuse and uglify sex by heinous, unspeakable, bloodcurdling violence: but on that some other time perhaps. Well: like it; or not.   Curse it. Flick it off your prudish mind as you would a disgusting, pesky insect. Chuck it out from the glassful of your milk of sanctimony as you would a house fly. Twist or turn your priestly, puritanical nose out of sheer shame and disgust… But sex, astride on the high horse of desire, has, and will...

                                                               हे ईश कृपालु !                     सुना है भगवन , है इस धरती  से परे भी तेरा एक अनजाना जहां ’- कहते हैं जिसे परलोक                     बतलाओ तो जरा हैं कैसे उसके गाँव - शहर , कैसी गलियाँ - कूचे , कैसा है तेरा वह इंद्र लोक ?                     है कैसी उसकी माटी , कैसा रंग - रूप , कैसी भोर , दुपहरी , धूप-छांव ; कैसे दिन , कैसी   शाम , रात ?                     है वहाँ भी क्या गगन विशाल दामन में लिए मुस्काता चाँद...