tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59204680726882237912024-02-19T18:43:44.298-08:00Enunciation of SolitudeKimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-18823444777129009662015-07-27T20:44:00.001-07:002015-07-27T20:44:35.428-07:00Words words words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
Words words words <br />They are everywhere<br />Rushing into each other<br />Bumping into each other<br />In the crowded lanes of backlit pages<br />Crushed between images <br />Squeezed through 4.6 inch screen<br />Words that send you to another backlit page of crowded words<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /><br />Like traffic on 101 parked right behind Each other words<br />Information they say we r hear to convey<br />Breathe us in breathe us in<br />And liberate us from these pages<br />We are suffocating let us breathe<br />So am i with the onslaught of you the words<br />Suffocating let ME breathe<br />Everywhere you are. in my facebook, twitter feed, on wikipedia and on the blue enticing links<br /><br />Lets go somewhere where you the words and i have space to breathe<br />A page white on which you have a stage to dance<br />Not that backlit pages where you are crammed in and overflowing like a local mumbai train<br /><br />Let us both find a place to breathe</span></div>
</div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-73881376620589793122013-10-13T22:41:00.001-07:002013-10-13T22:41:03.804-07:00Consumed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The moment I sit in<br />
So captured and imprisoned<br />
You must know this<br />
It must have happened to you<br />
<br />
Time is flowing a moment after another<br />
Like a river, a drop after another<br />
And comes then a moment when<br />
Being carried away you are in it<br />
Captures you, imprisons you, <br />
That moment for eternity<br />
<br />
Locked you are in its chains<br />
But struggle you not to free yourself<br />
As the moment has consumed you<br />
<br />
Such is, I want to tell you, <br />Your beauty<br />Captured and unwilling to struggle<br />To free myself<br />So Lay I <br />Consumed by your beauty</div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-14626438400393307402013-09-06T19:21:00.002-07:002013-09-06T19:21:51.002-07:00Pregnant desire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-6bd1247d-f632-40a0-cfa3-f2065e877a04" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Arrested is desire, in the chains of cupidity</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Posses she must that is forbidden</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Blinding is the aroma of transgression</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And seized desires swell..</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Disintegrate they then </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">On the shores of Eden</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pregnant is the desire fulfilled</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">From the seed of “sin”, </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">grows and then born thus is</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">guilt, the child of desire</span></div>
</div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-71970417920455794512013-02-23T10:49:00.001-08:002013-02-23T10:49:43.604-08:00Shikwe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Deke maut ke havaale muje</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">aye ruh rukhsat tu ho gayi</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">karke waada zindagi ka </span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">maut ke darwaaze pe tu chhod gayi</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">lita diya duniya ne kabr mein </span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">aur zameen se mein lipat gaya</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">simat ke fir jaise maa ki god me</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">aanson bahaata teri bewafaai ke raha</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">jab thak kar badli karwat maine</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">to aashiko ka maikhana paya</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">jahaan lete hue hai sab chhe foot andar</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">gaate hue, ruh, teri bewaafi ka gaana</span></div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-4929475924705587712013-01-13T22:25:00.000-08:002013-01-13T22:25:26.315-08:00As the time flies..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
A bird swift with a hawk's velocity<br />
whizzes it through the invisible skies<br />
Lingers the whiff of past, as behind<br />
Fragrance of nostalgia lies<br />
<br />
Sheds it a feather on some flights<br />
And born is a moment florid<br />
Capture I wish to, the colorful plume<br />
But dances it away with the wind<br />
<br />
Builds it a nest in a distant land<br />
Where slow moos of the cows are heard<br />
And in the slow rustles of the trees<br />
Comes the lost wind for nomad's rest<br />
<br />
Some Sundays comes the bird to my porch<br />
And slow down the clocks their breathing<br />
But come when the Mondays, Tuesdays and so on..<br />
Takes it off to distant land for the nest far away<br />
<br />
And I watch the time fly by..</div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-49697194607188796382012-12-02T12:11:00.002-08:002012-12-02T12:12:51.264-08:00raat kuch raaz hume bhi bata ja<span id="internal-source-marker_0.024721473164359353" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">raat kuch raaz hume bhi bata ja</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">ki jo baate chaand ne sitaaron se</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">aur guftgu baadal ne baarish se</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">labz jo chhede tapkti bundone chhate se</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">aise kuch raaz</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">raat humko bhi bataa ja</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">jo lamhe kiye bayaan palkon se aasuon se</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">dard jo baante ghunghru ne kadmo se</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">kahaani jo sunaai sharaab ne bottle se</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">aise kuch raaz</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">raat humko bhi bataa ja</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">leke aaghosh me apne</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">sune se ye dil ko behla ja</span>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-52255817131990886202012-09-29T14:09:00.000-07:002012-09-29T14:09:34.991-07:00Prisoner of words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Abound by the words I am<br />
Of its fettering shackles<br />
Confined is my expression<br />
In the cells of sentences
<br />
<br />
Story can I not tell<br />
In paragraphs and chapters<br />
When my expression in enslaved<br />
By the words and sentences
</div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-2179049449388423562012-09-07T19:29:00.002-07:002012-09-08T20:41:07.131-07:00Waqt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
waqt tham sa gayaa tha chalte chalte<br />
ghadi ki sui jaise so si gayi thi<br />
rakkhe jab kaan maine uske sine pe<br />
saanse uski jaise tham si gayi thi<br />
<br />
kya saanse aakhri apni waqt ne leli thi?<br />
alas <br />
nahi, <br />
ghadi ki spring bas unwind ho chuki thi</div>
Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-62999120575502272862012-07-05T14:00:00.000-07:002012-07-05T14:00:01.036-07:00tute shishe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
kuch shishe aapane tode to kuch hamane<br />
<br />
tute hue vo shishe fir farsh par bikhar gaye the<br />
aur tute se hamaare vajood bhi unake saath bikhare the<br />
<br />
na bikhare hue tukado ko aapane joda<br />
na ki koshish hamane unako banaane ki aayana<br />
<br />
aur tuta huasaa mera vajood farsh pe hi reh gaya<br />
aise bikhar ke ki... ki aaj bhi<br />
<br />
chalate hue vo tuta vajood chubhataa hai pair me<br />
aur baukhalaaye kadam leke hum aaj bhi chal rahe hai</div>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-71801936978111411552012-04-21T16:19:00.002-07:002012-04-21T16:19:58.914-07:00Footprints<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix">
<div>
Constraint: 600 words and a character must leave the town and a character must enter the town.<br />
----------------------<br />
<br />
“What
are you sifting mom?” I had asked amidst the bustling activity in my
maternal grandfather’s, nana’s, house. Dad was moving about groceries
for the post-twelfth day ceremony, called baaramu, of passing away of
nana. The whole village was to be fed. I myself had been fed many times
that summer as death seemed to be the only recurring event that year.<br />
<br />
But
nana, well I never thought that he would give in. Not that he was not
old enough. He was 95 and his frail body seemed to have wanted him out.
As if it was tired of carrying him all these years and just wanted to
rest. But his soul never seemed ready. He has been ‘mukhia’, the
village head, for 40 years and has seen it through the times of
prosperity, decay, battles, crimes you name it. I still remember the
heated debates between him and my dad who was hell bent on the
urbanization of modern India and where it is to take us versus nana who
was as much hell bent on the ‘tree is as strong as its roots and the
villages are India’s roots’. His soul seemed more attached to this
village he has served all these years than his own body. May be that’s
why his body had felt neglected and wanted to desert him.<br />
<br />
“Well
I am just sifting to get a very fine sand in the plate. It is said
that if a soul is reborn as a human, an infant’s soft footprint will
appear on the sand on the twelfth day and we will know that his soul is
not astray anymore”<br />
<br />
I still remember that moment
vividly. For an eight year old’s mind that was a swell of an idea. I
was excited. I followed mom to the little temple we had inside the
house where she lay the plate among small oil lamps and scented
incense. I sat next to it.<br />
<br />
Mom reprimanded me “now don’t just sit there”.<br />
<br />
But
I didn’t listen. The idea of small footprints appearing out of nowhere
was refuting everything that modern science was trying to teach us.
Possibility of this miracle, an open ended challenge to science was more
exciting than anything.<br />
<br />
So... well.. I sat there. Just
waiting for the miracle to happen. Half an hour.. hour.. hour and
half.. the restlessness of a kid’s mind was unsettling me and I was
running out of patience. Science seemed to be laughing in the face of
lamps and scented incense in the house of god. Finally I got tired and
went to dad who was busy arranging things for the cook.<br />
<br />
“Dad when will the footprints appear?”<br />
<br />
He didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. To stop me from pestering him he said<br />
“Just go and make sure lamps are not running out of oil”<br />
<br />
I
stood there for half a minute hoping for an answer but when none came I
went back to the temple to check on the lamps. And there.. and there,
there were two little soft footprints on the sand. My heart was racing.
Dhak.. dhak... dhak.. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “mom mom mom” not
finding her in the house I ran out looking for her. “mom”<br />
<br />
And
there she was holding a newborn baby of our neighbor. There was a
smile on mom’s face and tears rolling down her eyes and I remember what
nana always insisted during the debates with my dad,<br />
<br />
“I can never leave this village and if I ever did I will come back right away”</div>
</div>
</div>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-20817467048296019372012-04-13T16:22:00.003-07:002012-04-13T16:24:56.285-07:00A fallen leaf<span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;" id="internal-source-marker_0.6188048448240075">Fell a green leaf of the branch</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">on a sultry winter morning</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Blew a dry breeze and it fell</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">miles away from the tree</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Came the days and went the nights</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">And stolen was the moisture</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Flushed were veins and dried was leaf</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">as severed it felt from the tree</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Blew another breeze and away it took</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">in the distant that longing leaf</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">in it alive were still the memories</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">of the veins broken from the root</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">calls the tree sometimes with whisper</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">the distant aloof fallen leaf</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">but prevails drought in the dried veins</span><br /><span style="font-size:13px;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">As it waits to drench in rain</span>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-22956525306714245492011-12-15T04:36:00.001-08:002011-12-15T04:36:44.224-08:00Lavaris lafz<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div><p>Kavitaaen meri jo tumhaare wajood se joodi thi<br />Anath hoke tar batar aaj vo bhatak rahi hai<br /><br />Fir kisi hasin ki khoj me dil me dhokhe ka dard chupaake<br />Par lavaris se ye mere lafz apane maayane bhool rahe hai<br /><br />Aur unaki har aah se nikal rahe hain kuch naye labz dard ke<br />Fir bunenge wo dard ki daastan jo waqt ke sailaab me beh jaayegi<br /><br />Aur fir na bachega dard ya bachega mere alfaazon ka ehsaas<br />Bas reh jaaaynge bikhare hue itar bitar mere lavaris lafz</p></div></div>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-35272141942766213862011-12-15T04:35:00.000-08:002011-12-15T04:36:09.785-08:00Udaan<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div><p>Jal ke raakh bhi nahi hota Aur jalan kam bhi nahi hoti<br />Na is astitva ka ant hai par astitva bhi to nahi hai<br /><br />Bandhnone baandh ke pakad liya hai sansaar ke<br />Aur lagi hui hai aag bas chaaro aur<br />Na in zanziron ko tod ke bhagane ka dam hai<br />Naahi hai in lipato me lipat jaane ki himmat<br /><br />Bas ek panchi ko dekhake ji raha hu<br />Khwaab me ek din udane ke</p></div></div>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-48866299294194694772011-10-19T12:47:00.000-07:002011-10-19T12:48:05.692-07:00काश जाती थम ये रात<span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;" id="internal-source-marker_0.6191472610341843">काश ये शाम ना आती और काश ये दिन ना ढलता</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">और ना होती काश ये रात दिन मे तब्दील</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">बस थम जाता ये वक़्त यहाँ और</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">पीगलती तुम मेरी बाहों मे ऐसे</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">जैसे ना तुम होती ना मैं होता</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">और ना होता ये वक़्त का एहसास</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">बस होता हम दोनों का सिर्फ़ एक वजूद</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">पर तुम हो वहाँ मैं हूँ यहाँ</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">जहाँ रात भी ढलती है दिन भी निकलता है</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">और वक़्त सिर्फ़ चलता रहता है</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">बस एक आरज़ू के साथ ही जीता है अब ये बाँवरा दिल</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">इंतजार की उस रात मे जब</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">तुम होगी और मैं और होगा ये चौदवि का चाँद</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">जब थम जाएँगी ये साँसे हमारी होके एक</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">और थम जाएगा ये वक़्त भी</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">लिपटके हुमको अपनी बाहों मे</span><br /><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-78390575654582397922011-07-15T16:57:00.001-07:002011-07-15T16:57:16.562-07:00Emancipation of memories<span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;" id="internal-source-marker_0.33362094653447283">Frail attempts of my ephemeral impressions</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Are engulfed by those mighty oceans</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Forgotten is history and lost is time</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">As memoryless shores surrender to tides</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">And I reflect..</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Amnesia blessed o ocean sand</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Torment of memories is thy distant land</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Reborn with each wave anew you are </span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">While I burn in the agony of past</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Stubborn is past refusing to leave me, crying</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">I AM you, you otherwise amorphous cretin</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">No, I cry, you enslaver of memories, you past</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Emancipation they seek from the spell you cast</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">Wait they in the dungeons for the mighty tides</span><br /><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;background-color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;">When rescued I will be from the fettering confines</span>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-49412288412379113722011-03-06T15:33:00.002-08:002011-03-06T15:36:04.691-08:00Lost in Sunnyvale<p>Bhaumin told me this hilarious anecdote. I thought I would add some masala to it to and make it an interesting story. So here it is and it is written purely in vein of humor so don’t take any offense, please.</p><p>--------------------</p><p>Our story starts with an anonymous white man who, for the purpose of this story, will be referred to as A. It was a rainy Saturday but A was determined to stick to his appointment as he readied himself to meet his friend in Sunnyvale. Yes Sunnyvale. Now for those who don’t know what Sunnyvale is, and yes ‘what’ is more appropriate here than ‘where’, it is an “Indian” reservation located in the heart of Silicon Valley. The tech industry of Silicon Valley has provided the thriving atmosphere and we the desis (people of Indian sub continent) relish in the glory of “preserving” the culture. Upon one’s visit to Sunnyvale one could witness the abundance of desis per square mile this sanctuary provides. So it was not surprising that A was up for a big surprise. Even within this reservation there exists a ghetto, the techie getto if you will, where all the bad-ass indian techies live. It was here A’s friend lived and for the reasons of anonymity I will omit the details about the ghetto being referred to here.</p><p>As A entered the community, our ghetto, the aroma of curry filled his nostrils and he knew he was up for some danger. As he walked through this persisting aroma he couldn’t find anyone around. But as he crossed another block and into the heart of the ghetto, the street was full of desis talking/chatting that suddenly turned into whispers. The mean stares (or rather stares of surprise) were being thrown at him and he was ill equipped handle them. He knew he had to get out of there. He crossed the block and made a right and with quickening pace crossed another block. As he finally caught his breath he wasn’t sure anymore if he should continue his quest of finding his friend’s place or not. Just then he spotted a young lady in saari crossing the street and in her non threatening looks he decided to take shelter and ask for his friend’s place. He slowly and cautiously approached her.</p><p> “Excuse me” said A.</p><p>“Yes?” replied the lady-in-saari with a surprise.</p><p>“I am looking for this place” he asked her as he showed her the address. “Do you know where it is?”</p><p>For a few seconds she threw a strange glance at him and replied</p><p>“No.. but there are no foreigners living here” and she walked off.</p><p>Shock waves passed through A as he didn’t know what was that supposed to mean. But surged back the memories of his forefathers from nearly 4 centuries ago when they had landed at Plymouth and how they would have felt.</p><p>We don’t know what A did later as little information is available of that account. But it won’t be surprising if we stumble upon a blog “Foreigner in my own country, welcome to Sunnyvale”.</p><p>And what would complete the circle with irony is reading of that blog by a Native American.</p>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-35572323792572527082011-03-06T15:33:00.001-08:002011-03-06T15:33:16.785-08:00Just a storm awayWakes she up with the spreading wings<br />To flutter miles away where the cuckoos sing<br />"Must I escape from the fettering wisdom to<br />The country where the iridescent flowers blossom"<br /><br />Beheld in her eyes is a world of dreams, of<br />Puerile meadows swinging under wise oak trees,<br />Of waltzing monarchs on the waves of wind<br />And serene lake embracing the pebbled brim<br /><br />But must she wither the threatening storm,<br />The dark rain clouds and the distant thunder<br />And attempt must she to escape this fate<br />Of looming darkness compelling surrender<br /><br />For the fragrance of freedom is just a storm away<br />The fragrance of freedom is just a storm awayKimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-88637681481280745702010-12-20T12:39:00.000-08:002010-12-20T12:40:06.091-08:00An awaiting symphonySome rain here some thunder there<br />Blew a breeze among the fluttering leaves<br />A symphony emerges amidst those swelling waves<br /><br />But Where are we all running to<br />To an orchestra in tuxedos or to an opera in gowns<br />Oblivious, as nature conducts its diligent score<br /><br />Hamsters stuck in a wheel we are<br />Yet gloating at our achievements<br />Pause, breath and step out of that wheel<br />A symphony awaits for an audienceKimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-19333660025428878242010-12-12T19:27:00.001-08:002010-12-12T19:49:43.634-08:00A transparent state<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div><p>States high was a normal high school. Bitchy teenage girls, football jocks, geeky nerds, sprinkled with a few goths. A formula for a classic high school. Sleeping around were jocks, wishing to be sleeping around were nerds and world was a fucked up place doomed to darkness for goths. It won't be complete without gossips among 'mean girls'. All in all a classical american high school. Peace prevailed in open and chaos behind the closed doors.</p><p> </p><p>But change was imminent. Omen was in the air as vicky walked the corridors. Vicky Leaks, a new entry to States high from the land of kangaroos, was a quiet and creepy young girl. Though no one was sure about the girl part. Guys, even not-ever-getting-laid nerds, stayed away from her and bitches.. well they bitched about her. Acceptance is what Vicky had always struggled for. Some argued that thats why (s)he became she though creepiness never left her. But the corridors that were undisturbed by goths could easily take one more creep. Very soon everyone forgot about her and States high returned to what it was before. And continued frustration of not being noticed returned to Vicky.</p><p> </p><p>All her life she had struggled to be recognized, struggled to prove her existence. So much so that the doubts of her own existence and invisibility occupied her thoughts. She tried to commit suicide, picked fights with other girls, and stole things from grocery stores, just to get noticed, just to prove that she very much existed. But that wouldn’t last for too long and as normalcy would return and so would her doubts about her own existence. But this too was set to change.</p><p> </p><p>A week before States high's football game with Mideast high she overheard some of the school cheerleaders gossiping about who's who of 'sleeping around' in school's football team. This was Vicky's chance to prove to the world forever that she very much existed. She knew if this information was leaked it would bring disaster for school especially just a week before the game. She could threaten to release this information. The idea of holding such a baton filled her with sudden surge of empowerment. Thrilled was Vicky for her awaiting future but she knew that the power can corrupt people. “Who cares” her inner voice seemed to say. It was the least of Vicky's worries and her thoughts seemed to suggest “what is far more important for you than the corruption-of-mind is the exposure of corruption. Its about the time people know who you are”.</p><p> </p><p>Yet a justification was needed. Justification to expose those secrets, least of which shall include her necessity of being noticed. But what could be such justification she thought. As she struggled to put her idea into a moral framework one word rung a bell. Corruption. What fights corruption? Transparency. Yes transparency. That was her answer. She knew that to the world of opaqueness she needed to bring transparency. And that was her justification. Her moral framework.</p><p> </p><p>She realized however that she need more. She needed diversity of information whose leakage would justify the moral framework of transparency beyond the gossips of who slept with who. This was Vickey’s day and ideas were pouring over her in abundance. She had found the treasure trove of questions, answers to even one of which would be explosive enough to bring her to spotlight. She needed to find what were teachers upto, what was the principal, who was school’s football coach as well, upto, what was SCHOOL upto?</p><p> </p><p>But how? How could she know what they were upto? Locker room gossips could only reveal as much as who slept with who. As she walked past classrooms in the long silent corridor the answer walked past her. “Dos is dead” “Debug this.. bitches”…… , their T-shirts read. She knew geeks were her answer to the burning questions of revenge in her heart. But she hadn’t left a great impression on anyone including geeks. She needed a way in among geeks.</p><p> </p><p>As she lay down in her bed contemplating what would appeal geeks and the ways to befriend them, the weight of her own thoughts put her to sleep. But she had already found an answer the next morning she woke up. And it had worked. The geeks turned around in awe and surprise as Vickey walked the school corridor with a t-shirt that read “you can pipe your output here ;)”. Geeks were sold. To the principle of transparency on surface and to their only hope of getting laid underneath. Subsequently they hacked their way to know everything about teachers, principal, school and everything that was to bring transparency.</p><p> </p><p>Storm was coming. Lightning could be seen and thunder could be heard in distance as Vicky made everything public from who slept with who of football team to teachers’ affairs and closeted principal. “Girlfriends need to know what cheating bastards are their boyfriends” “Football team needs to know who their coach really is when they share their locker rooms with him”. Principal broke down. Quarterback, one of the “cheating bastard”, with few others, was ambushed and found beaten with “they deserved it” banner. Needless to say the football game was lost even before it could be played. But transparency was brought.</p><p> </p><p>Most importantly for Vicky, revenge was served. And notice was made. Forever.</p></div></div>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-47953926842143184822010-07-12T16:03:00.001-07:002010-07-12T16:07:26.906-07:00PhD Blues..When will you graduate?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XqDCeIVR3f-6WmTdYFeQNryGn_WECRRKP4QBrSXalr8DQWcBsdkqFPrZgKZdgdI1RPh4WEL2A7DB3caQAr1LTEmdSnoMLcxfX1N53f17syIbbfZMEaYZ8xd6KjY6QsVfXMyX3O_MbzY/s1600/graduation_blues.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XqDCeIVR3f-6WmTdYFeQNryGn_WECRRKP4QBrSXalr8DQWcBsdkqFPrZgKZdgdI1RPh4WEL2A7DB3caQAr1LTEmdSnoMLcxfX1N53f17syIbbfZMEaYZ8xd6KjY6QsVfXMyX3O_MbzY/s320/graduation_blues.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493159438970418610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Only a PhD can take you that long..<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMSZEUmOQzdXRM7MEwwxDaDUa0qRWb_Obrfk8xAsNzegEdQvSk_1_9MYhNnb8-zN2m3pOigZIP6ofJ-KxeDdQS90NZKlemn73yJxBjDQdQ8ZdWdes-Md5YRSYBa1NQNBYWbuJIObwPMA/s1600/vanvaas.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 384px; height: 446px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMSZEUmOQzdXRM7MEwwxDaDUa0qRWb_Obrfk8xAsNzegEdQvSk_1_9MYhNnb8-zN2m3pOigZIP6ofJ-KxeDdQS90NZKlemn73yJxBjDQdQ8ZdWdes-Md5YRSYBa1NQNBYWbuJIObwPMA/s320/vanvaas.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493159602123017826" border="0" /></a>Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-77695640569528228172010-02-12T14:30:00.000-08:002010-02-12T14:40:33.708-08:00Pursuit of ExcellenceThis is a story of an individual whose life has been shaped by the desire to follow his dreams and heart and this odyssey into his life gives us an opportunity to know this real life 'Rancho' whose support from '3 idiots' and Amir has forever changed the course of his life and has inspired many more.<br /><br />"It would be only unfair to say that anyone could milk a cow for milking cow is not just a work of art but is of, as well, passion, diligence and sacrificial emotions". The motto of "moo- lets milk cows", the milking company owned by Gajodhar Ramhilawan whose dedication and pursuit of excellence started 10 years ago in a remote village of Bihar, Bailganj.<br /><br />Born to Ramhilawan Pyarelal and Kalavati in poverty, Gajodhar was the only son of milkman Ramhilawan . Ramhilawan was an ambitious person but little could he do with his own life and now he wanted to see all his dreams come true through his son. He would go miles delivering milk just to facilitate good education to Gajodhar. He wanted him to go to IITs and one day work for NASA since, apparently according him, NASA was run by Indians.<br /><br />But Gajodhar was born different(not gay). He had a different eye for the cows than his father had. As a kid he had spent more time playing with calves and cows than with other kids and as he grew up it became apparent that he had no inclination whatsoever toward education. There would be frequent arguments between him and his father.<br /><br />(Its hard to conceive that they are conversing in English but bear with me, its funnier this way)<br /><br />Gajodhar would say "But dad you don't give its due importance to the respectable profession of milkman"<br /><br />His father would say "My ass respectable profession. You think I like it?.. I do it only for you so that you can one day work for NASA. I hate milking cows and even when I try so hard I can hardly manage anything. These cows just dont give enough milk.. as if they are holding back. But I and your mom still manage .. just for you.. and you find no interest in studying"<br /><br />Gajodhar would say "You have got it all wrong dad. It is love that the cows want. To milk a cow is not a mechanical thing as much as it is sentimental. You need to put emotions in it.. you need to understand them and then you will see the beauty of milking. It is like making love dad.. not like having sex.. you need to understand and grasp the art of milking and not just go by books as rest of my friends do in school"<br /><br />Eventually Ramhilawan had given up on Gajodhar and Gajodhar had started doing his wonders in the barn. With his touch, love and gentle milking the milk produce has increased more than ever and now his dad had no way to complain although he was entirely bitter about it for he had seen his dreams come true through him.<br /><br />Right around this time when Amir Khan was just roaming around in random places for the publicity of his movie '3 idiots', he came to Bailganj. It was Gajodhar's lucky day. Although in a small village of Bailganj none had heard of '3 idiots' or its story, his interaction with Ramhilawan turned out to be a boon for Gajodhar.<br /><br />Ramhilawan told Amir "Sirji, talk some sense into my son. He doesnt want to study at all and he says that all he wants to do is to milk cows. Now you tell me have you ever heard of someone who wants to spend rest of his life milking cows"<br /><br />Amir replied "Dekhiye, this is what I have tried to address in my next film. Pursue excellence. Maybe he will be a very bad engineer and never work for NASA but if you let him milk cows he may one day 'doodh ki nadiyaan bahayega'"<br /><br />Ramhilawan got angry and shouted "sathiya gayan ho aap. Kaun sasura aapko filmo me rakhata hai"<br /><br />But after much arguments Ramhilawan gave up, once again, and Gajodhar took over his dad's business. But all he was interested in was milking cows and soon his pursuit of excellence in 'how to milk the cows' got him fame. Now everybody in the village or even the near by villages wanted Gajodhar to milk their cows. It would be safe to say that by the tender age of 18, there weren't any cows, in the vicinity of 100kms, that he hadn't milked. Sometimes he would milk two cows simultaneously and yet none would get jealous. He had mastered the art of cow-milking. And thus was started his servicing conglomeration of milking cows, "moo- let's milk cows". Cows in his barn were as healthy as a hippo and the barn grew everyday.<br /><br />Soon his fame became nationwide and he had been invited to places to educate people about "milking cows". He started offering a course on the same... "cow-milking 101". It was established on very simple principles:<br /><br />"<br />Name your cow<br /><br />Buy her cow jeweleries from time to time<br /><br />Talk to her while milking her<br /><br />Be gentle while milking, don't be rough.<br /><br />And talk to her after milking<br />"<br /><br />Inspired by this real life story Ram Gopal Verma, known for making eccentric movies, has decided to make a movie on Gajodhar's life "What cows want" along the lines of a similar movie starring Mel Gibson.<br /><br />Although unfortunately we were not able to secure any time slot, for our interview, from his busy cow-milking schedule, Gajodhar did reply to our email, expressing his gratitude to '3 idiots'. "If it were not Amir and '3 idiots' very few cows would be happy today".<br /><br />[PS: No offense meant and if feelings are hurt by the post above I apologize]Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-86589436889583192002010-02-12T14:29:00.000-08:002010-02-12T14:30:17.061-08:00શું તું મને ઓળખી શકીશબનીને વહેતું ઝરણું<br />તારી પાનીને ચૂમું છું<br />અને એ પંખીડો બની<br />તારી પાયલની રણકાર માં કલરવ પૂરું છું<br /><br />બની હવાની શિત લહેર<br />તારા ગુલાબી હોંઠ ચૂમું છું<br />અને ધરતી બની ધીરેથી<br />તારા હૃદય ના ધબકારા સાંભળું છું<br /><br />નથી ખબર મને કે છે એહસાસ તને<br />કે હું તને કેટલો નજદીક થી જાણું છું<br />પણ જો બની માનવ આવ્યો તારી સામે<br />તો શું તું મને ઓળખી શકીશKimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-7774388170746059852009-12-07T11:50:00.000-08:002009-12-07T11:51:01.610-08:00Sound of RainAmidst the pouring rain and<br />The soaked clay's essence<br />Lay there those two wooden chairs like a<br />couple lost in each others' presence<br /><br />Drenched were those orchid leaves<br />In the passionate love,<br />Of the frenzied amorous rain<br />Pouring from the clouds above<br /><br />Closed were my eyes listening<br />To the melody of this tryst<br />Of the falling rain droplets meeting<br />the weaving and fluttering leaves<br /><br />Reminding was the nature us,<br />Of its secrets arcane<br />As it filled our mundane existence<br />With the sound of rainKimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-81656898549110180152009-09-23T11:07:00.000-07:002009-09-23T13:06:20.556-07:00Dr. Rajnikanth... PhDSummary:<br />In this heart throbbing, jaw dropping and bowels moving flick, all almighty Rajni embarks on a different course to save the world. Deserting the path of "violence" he decides to hold back on his physical prowess and employs his intellectual prowess to lift the world out of the swamp of unsolved problems. He is "the beautiful mind" of India in this "written-by-a-bunch-of-doped-up-writers" drama... Dr. Rajnikanth....PhD.<br /><br />The Plot:<br /><br />[Scene of qualifying exam]<br /><br />Rajni's back is facing the committee as he explains away his solution.<br /><br />Rajni: "...yend my solution has..."<br /><br />Committee Member (CM) 1: "But how is it possible? The problem is NP-hard"<br /><br />CM 2: "People have worked on this for years. Even the best of the best haven't found any polynomial time solution"<br /><br />Upon hearing this, Rajni swings a look back at the committee and takes off his dark goggles in his signature style and flicks it away towards the ceiling. It doesnt come back. Committee members are speechless.<br /><br />Rajni: "YenP hard... machaa?.. nothing is hard for Rajni. Rajni can do yenything and yevery thing..."<br /><br />Silence ensues as committee members are still astounded as the flicked away goggles is stuck in the midair defying gravity. Like regaining consciousness from coma one of the committee member awakens to break the silence.<br /><br />CM 3: "Who the hell is Rajni?"<br /><br />Outside CM: "He is addressing himself as a third person"<br /><br />Rest of the CMs: "oh"<br /><br />CM 1: "But nobody has yet been able to solve this problem"<br /><br />Rajni: "Yam not nobody..yam Rajni"<br /><br />To the surprise of committee members once again, out of nowhere, sounds of drums and whistles fill the air as the midair stuck goggle finally drop into Rajni's hand and continue its journey to its final destination in Rajni's style. Rajni's hands raised. Sounds stop. One committee member faints.<br /><br />CM 4: "What is the time complexity of your algorithm".<br /><br />Rajni flicks the finger. Slide changes.<br /><br />Rajni: "Yit is...yorder of one".<br /><br />Another committee member faints.<br /><br />CM 2: "How can you solve an NP-hard problem with an algorithm that runs in a constant time. This is insane. We must see your proof of optimality".<br /><br />Rajni: "Rajni doesnt prove yenything.. proof proves yitself".<br /><br />Equations starts appearing on the screen proving the optimality. Rest of the committee members faint.<br /><br />And thus Rajni passes his qualifying exam a day after he joined the PhD program at USC. Needless to say he was exempted from the screening exam. Having worked "hard" for a day and having passed the qualifying exam Rajni decides to take the rest of the day off, to chill. Completely dazzled by his charm the department secretary, the blondie, decides to take the rest of the day off as well and agrees to run around trees and sing. As Rajni is dropping her off at her place after the drinks she decides to invite him over for coffee. Up in the apartment, awed by his personality, the secretary lays a kiss on his 'thick mustache' topped lips. (Warning: The next sentence may gross you out. Precaution is advised) Things get hot and heavy as the taste of spicy sambhar in Rajni's mustache turns her on.... (Fill in the rest with your imagination ;) )<br /><br />After the heavy night, to avoid the embarrassing morning, Rajni sneaks away in the middle of the night. But the fate had something else in the box for Rajni. As he is passing through the dark corners of USC neighborhood on the way to his house, shared with six other desis, a mugger jumps out of nowhere and brandishes a gun demanding for money. Rajni smirks as the sounds of laughter appear out of nowhere scaring the shit out of the mugger. Under the nervousness the mugger fires. The bullet wheezes through air towards Rajni. Gets close to Rajni and stops there for a fraction of a second as if thinking whether to attempt to trespass the territory that has never been violated by any bullet. Unexpected (not really) thing happens. Bullet finds its way back into the gun. But having decided to desert the use of physical prowess in the favor of intellectual prowess, and hence PhD, Rajni decides to tackle the matter differently altogether. He gets the mugger on the side and explains him the proof of his solution he worked on for his quals. Mugger dies. Rajni's eyes shine with glitter as if he has found something new.<br /><br />Next morning: 30 "registered" muggers found dead in unexplainable mysterious circumstances.<br /><br />Having found the cause of those mysterious deaths and menaced by Rajni local gang members decide to take the matters in their own hands (As if "kaanoon (law)" is going to help them). Gangsters kidnap the blondie on the day of Rajni's defense. His fourth day at school.<br /><br />Only a few daring and challenge loving profs have agreed to serve on Rajni's defense committee, having his reputation preceding him, by now. Learning from the qual experiences paramedics are present in the room, just in case. So are the priests.... just in case. As Rajni proceeds with his defense and is midway through it and by when one of the committee member is already carried away to ICU, an emergency call comes for Rajni. Its the gang members seeking revenge. He runs to save her, leaving his defense midway. His defense defends itself. As a result the rest of the committee members join their retired colleague.<br /><br />At the gang house the gangsters are using sound proof earmuffs to avoid listening to Rajni's arguments and succumbing to death. Having denounced the physical prowess Rajni finds himself in a dilemma. Looks around to find a piece of paper and pencil but none is available ('smart' gang members). He takes away AK-47 from one of the guys and starts firing equations in the wall, yielding a final equation for the frequency of the modulating signal that will cancel itself as it passes through the earmuffs forcing the gang members to listen to the proof of his solution, his sole weapon of the mass killing of gang members. (Pardon the technical inaccuracy). Needless to say they die.<br /><br />Blondie is saved and is wrapped around in Rajni's arms. Rajni graduates the next day. With the fastest PhD ever he becomes Dr. Rajnikanth..PhD. Nine months later, little Rajni, the prodigy appears. The sequel is on its way.Kimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5920468072688223791.post-13230474193319507382009-09-09T23:03:00.000-07:002009-09-09T23:04:46.341-07:00Lingering wordsEntangled my thoughts were<br />In your heaving curly hair<br />With the fragrance captivating<br />Of emancipation they don't dare<br /><br />Though eager to capture your beauty<br />Were my mundane words<br />Lingered there they with a sigh<br />As you vanished in the herdKimish Patelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186699018650070723noreply@blogger.com0