Tuesday, September 25, 2012

5 year old child of drdo scientist couple kidnapped and killed by

usually, one steers clear of negative news in the paper and prefers to start the day with economic times. worries abt the economy scare one less than worries abt where we are going as human beings.

but this news... leaves even hardened news readers like yours truly singed. 15 year olds.. kill a 5 year old child for a bike that they anyway dont get.

when they are from the security services that is supposed to protect the families they have mutilated. the first reaction is anger. no trial. kill them right after arrest. the next reaction is pure sadness.

the worst part of the whole deal is, one really doesnt know where to place the blame - no one knows. on parents, on society, on the individuals.. i really dont know!

am lost.

no ted video today, no poetry. 2 minute silence. for what is essentially unspeakable.


 

Sunday, September 23, 2012

TED talk of the day - The voices of China's workers

http://www.ted.com/talks/leslie_t_chang_the_voices_of_china_s_workers.html

one was supposed to be working.. when a friend suggested this TED video..and everything paused while one saw this wonderful speaker (duh, elementary - all TED speakers are fantastic speakers)

And suddenly, the perspective changed. Factory workers were no longer a nameless, faceless collective. They were, just like Indian workers, (think factories in Mumbai some decades ago and a movie called Gaman about migration from rural areas to cities for work) , people with real personalities.. distinct aspirations, and ambition.

She has delineated the worker from the product. And presented the worker, not as another product or project or subject for theorising, but as an INDIVIDUAL. a person who has profound observations (maybe because of the culture we grow up in, and we take for granted), looks for opportunities and tries to exploit them.

There will, of course, be freeloaders. There will be people who tried and fell by the side. But in this story, there are also winners.

While there are implications for the macro economics of globalisation and Distributed manufacturing, Personally, i take away the micro story - of the persons being impacted by this on a daily basis, and of where they would have been if this opportunity had not presented itself.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

ye na thi hamari qismat.of ghalib in devanagari script


of all the renditions of this ghazal, i like this one the best.. special thanks to Gentle Breeze for commenting about this ghazal. no one writes it like chacha ghalib..

Tere vaade par jiye hum to ye jaan jhooth jaana,
ke khushi se mar na jaate, agar aitbaar hota...

and here is the full ghazal:
ये न थी हमारी किस्मत, के विसाले यार होता,
अगर और जीते रहते,  यूँ ही इंतज़ार होता

कहूं किस से मैं के क्या है, शब्-इ-ग़म बुरी बला है,
मुझे  क्या बुरा था मरना, अगर एक बार  होता

कोई मेरे दिल से पूछे , तेरे तीरे-नाम कश को,
ये खलिश कहाँ से होती, जो जिगर के पार होता

तेरे वादे पे जिए हम, तो ये जान झूठ जाना
के ख़ुशी से मर ना जाते गर ऐतबार होता

हुए मर के हम जो रुसवा हुए क्यूँ न गर्क-ए -दरिया
न कहीं जनाज़ा उठता , न कहीं मज़ार होता

ये मसाइल -ए -तसव्वुफ़ , ये तेरा बयान ग़ालिब।
तुझे हम वाली समझते, जो ना बादा-ख्वार  होता

and u can go to this great link to read this ghazal in the Roman script and also a very good translation.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Someday, when you are alone..



Someday, when you are alone, you will come for me..
By then, the corn in my body, will have sprouted many, many children..
And my wings, the ones that scared you away, will have dried, gone pale, and then golden..
If you had waited, you would know (but what is the use of knowing now)
You would know, that the wings on me, are the wings of the homing pigeons
You will see, when you come, the high cheekbones and the still sharp nose.
And i will show you
The downcast eyes, the covered head.
Someday, when you are alone, you will come for me.

Picture : A sculpture i saw  at the Heard Museum, Arizona. The sculpture was so powerful that the blog post wrote itself.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

even more Javed Akhtar poetry..

this is from Tarkash.. and one cant get it out of head.. so here it is.. if you search on youtube for javed akhtar tarkash, you will be able to hear all this awesome poetry in his own voice.

हम को उठना  तो मुंह अँधेरे था
लेकिन एक ख्वाब हम को घेरे था

I had to wake up at the crack of dawn,
but a dream kept me captive..

and this one is my all time favorite.. i dont even need to hear this sher in years..
मुझ को यकीन है, सच कहती थी जो भी अम्मी कहती थी
जब मेरे  बचपन के दिन थे चाँद पे परियां रहती थी।।

i am sure, that my mother was right all along
when i was a child, there were fairies on the moon.

अक्सर वो कहते हैं वो बस मेरे हैं,
अक्सर क्यूँ कहते हैं, हैरत होती है।।
- cant translate this one.

and this one:
तब हम दोनों वक़्त चुरा कर लाते थे
 अब मिलते हैं जब भी फुर्सत होती है।।

there was a time when we stole time to meet each other
now, we meet when there is nothing else to do..

हम से दिलचस्प कभी सच्चे नहीं होते हैं
अच्हे लगते हैं मगर अच्छे नहीं होते हैं।।

He, who is interesting, is not likely to be honest.
He appears good for us, but is not.

and this one that was on the tip of memory for weeks:
नर्म अलफ़ाज़ भरी बातें, मुहज्ज़ब  लहजे ,
पहली बारिश में ही ये रंग उतर जाते हैं।।

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

black and white in a world of greys..

Always, Always, you must come home. It is in your destiny like the lines in your hand. always, you must come back, after the hunt and the expedition, to that one place that means home to you. the lap of the woman you love, the laughter of your children, the gong of the favorite church bell, even the familiar weeds in an overgrown park - who can tell, what you call home? But we can tell, for as long as we have been around, that when a man does not come home, he gets lost pretty soon. But always, they have to find their way home. it is their destiny. If the home is not real any more, you create your own cocoon - in your mind. into that mind, you retreat every night, a fugitive from the bare rocks of your reality. but you make yourself a home. and Always, you must go back to it.