The Garden

The garden behind my office
is so beautiful and peaceful
a walk there takes away all the stress
its certainly my kind of place
though its just behind my office
but seems far away in space
while i am there
sweet melodies of birds feel my ears
snow has melted and flowers are blooming
singing aloud the arrival of spring
slanting sun rays fall on the green leaves
as if heaven has come to the earth

Moments

There are moments
O Almighty!
O limitless sky!
O vast Blue Oceans!
O High Mountains!
O mother Earth!
I feel one with you

O moments!
Why don’t you last a little longer?
Just a little longer
So I could forget myself
In the infinite eternity
You can read all my poems at Enlightenment

Questioning?

Am I passionate about someone or
Is it just to kill boredom
Only if things had been alright
Today it had not been so tight
Now I am lost and have no clue
Except facing life’s blues
I always believed I could plan
But now I take life as it comes
Can’t say life had been better
This way or that way
Though I know it for sure
That I did my best and
Perhaps this is the way
It was meant to be

Spritual Straddler

I found on Beliefnet today that I am a spritual straddler. It means one foot in traditional religion while another in free-form sprituality.
You can find your spritual type here. It was an interesting journry to know where I stand in a fast changing landscape of religion and sprituality.

The flower that once I was

The flower that once I was
Fresh, bright and attractive
With a beautiful glow
It was not very long ago
Just a few days back

Everyone smiled who looked at me
They were amazed at my beauty
I was the precious gift
Symbol of love and
A wonderful treat

When lovers met on a date
Through me their hearts met
I was a standing witness
Of their love, friendship and
Growing sweetness

I had played my part and
It was time to depart
I felt tired and jaded
While slowly I faded
Into oblivion

Now I remember
The flower that once I was
Fresh, bright and attractive
With a beautiful glow
It was not very long ago

23rd April 2006, Moscow
You can read all my poems at Enlightenment

On the banks of Yauja

On the banks of Yauja
We walked holding hands
It was a wonderful evening and
We walked till the clouds end

Clouds whispered in our ears
Can you roar can you soar
Can you rain can you thunder
Can you transform into a lightening splendor

‘Yes we can’
We sang to the clouds
Fall in love if you can
It will clear all your doubts

We walked up to the rainbow
From there we saw the earth glow
In the magical light and believe me
It is more beautiful than the rainbow


Slowly we descended to the ground
Saying goodbye to the clouds
While we walked holding hands
On the banks of Yauja


22ndApril,Earth’s day, Moscow
You can read all my poems at Enlightenment

A Beautiful Morning

I like the brisk walk in the morning
While I rush to the metro
I like the energy of the commuters
All rushing in different directions

I am amazed by the beauty
That surrounds me
The fresh smell of the perfumes and
The latest fashion

I like the bright smile on faces
As if the sun entered the metro
As if there are no worries and no pains
What a journey every morning

While I silently go to my work
Very silently admiring them all
For a beautiful morning and
For the beginning of a beautiful day

You can read all my poems at Enlightenment

A poem for my Father

Me and my father
Walking on the golden path
While the Sun set behind
Painting the sky in crimson red
Spreading its last rays
Birds chirping loudly
Flying back home
Cow boys with their cattle
Village girls with grass bundles on their heads
All walking back home
Cool Breeze blowing into our faces
The magic of the moment seeping into my soul
While I walk with my father
In the green fields
Symphony of cicadas
Filling the ambience
Transcendental feelings
As if earth meeting the heavens
Slowly feeling me with spiritual energy
As if we have been walking
Since the beginning of the time
My soul croons
“My father”
You brought me into this world
And gave me warmth when I was cold
When I stumbled
You gave me your finger to hold
Your shoulders
When I got tired;
You cried
When you saw me in deep pain
You brought me books
And inspired me everyday
An icon you are
Who led by example
History will forget you
You may not its greatest son
But for me
You would always be a hero
“My Father”
Moon joins us on the journey
Our souls say something
To one another
Our eyes smile for a while
As ages just passed by
In a moment
And we say together
“We have come far”
Let’s get back home

(Dedicated to my father whom i love so much and part of my book "Three Generations")
You can read all my poems at Enlightenment

Hitler’s Ghost in the streets of Moscow

Today most of the students missed their Russian language classes and they will miss them tomorrow too. I noticed it while I was drinking tea in the stolobaya (Russian café) that very few students had come today and told Tak (Tacoma from Japan) about it.
He told me “oh! You don’t know tomorrow is Hitler’s birthday”
I said-“no”
He told me “You should stay at home tomorrow”.
I asked him “why? Why should I stay at home?”
He said-“because skinheads here celebrate Hitler’s birthday”
He continued-“day before yesterday a foreigner student was killed in St. Petersburg”
It made me think about Hitler who killed millions and led his country and the rest of the world to war and destruction. His ghost has returned to haunt the streets of Moscow and other countries of Europe.
Russian federation itself consists of more than eighty nationalities and its own citizens who look little different (tartars with mongoloid features) feel unsafe in Moscow. What really worries me is the brainwashing of the innocent young minds that are made to believe that the solution to all of their problems is driving foreigners out of the country. The bigger problem is that they have been successful in instilling a sense of fear among the foreigners living in Russia that they can be beaten or even killed if they do not leave the country.
This trend seems to be rising in many countries of Europe including Belgium, Netherlands, Germany and France where far-right is fast gaining momentum on the issues of economic nationalism and all this is happening in a globalizing world.

Reminiscence

Thinking of you

It’s a beautiful evening

It’s a beautiful evening and
You are sitting at home
While I walk in the streets alone
Thinking of you

The sky is turning red and
Cold wind blows into my face
Trees stand by in silence
And birds fly back home
While I walk in the streets alone

I am going to the café
As we always used to go
Walking side by side
While the Sun went down
Now I miss you by my side
While I walk in the streets alone

It’s a beautiful evening and
You are sitting at home
While I walk in the streets alone
Thinking of you

16th April, 2006, Moscow

You can read all my poems at Enlightenment (http://abxai.livejournal.com)

Oh! this wonderful world!

That evening storm: A short story

That evening storm

Its 10 am Saturday morning. Ahmad’s cell starts buzzing...soft music falls into his sleepy ears. He moves his hand, grabs the phone and presses the red button.
“So early, who the hell is buzzing in such early hours of the morning?” he thought without looking at the cell-screen for the name or the number.
Meanwhile his sleepy mind started doing some lateral thinking-“he can be my brother. He gets up early in the morning and generally calls me but I have told him not to call me so early in the morning. So he is ruled out. Who else then? May be Rima , a sure probability , I still get calls from her early in the morning since last 5 years since the time I last met her. He can’t be my father. He understands me, knows well I am not the morning person and I dislike being disturbed too early in the morning.”

The cell buzzed again waking him up from his half- sleepy state. He decided to tell the person on the line not to bother him in such early hours. He pushed the green button this time without looking at the screen, brought the phone close to his left ear. A soft British accented sweet voice sang to him-“hi, good morning Ahmad, this is Kamini here. Sorry to disturb you at this moment. I was wondering if we could meet over a cup of coffee at Mocha today evening if it’s convenient for you. I want to discuss the book I am writing and just spend some time together.” He had not spoken a single word yet perhaps had got lost in the flow of her soft, sensuous melodious voice or in the memories of this eye fluttering damsel whom he had met years back in college.
She sang again-“are you still there baby?” This brought him to the moment zero. He answered still sleepy –“I’ll let you know in an hour or so.” He squeezed the side-pillow and tried to sleep once more with the soft soothing melody playing in his mind bringing back the memories of a bygone time.

College brings all kind of people together- “ugly-beautiful, smart-dumb, sharp-dull, confused-confident and many others as many as the number of the people, each with one’s own idiosyncrasies. Kamini had hers too. She was gorgeous and an instant-killer with a no-nonsense attitude. Ahmad had fallen prey to this beautiful hunter when he had just crossed her shadow one beautiful moon-lit night while dancing at the annual College festival. Not a word had been spoken, only four eyes had met for a while and parted leaving him restless and wanting. He imagined himself lying with her on the beaches of Canaries and Bahamas and sea waves washing their bodies. In the dark or moon-lit nights sometimes he walked in sleep to the terrace craving to possess her. He dreamed her perfumed body dancing under the moon-light.

He had met her in his dreams many times now it was the time to meet the real Kamini at 6 pm today evening. Facing light is not easy when you have been living in darkness for years. Dreams are better than the realities because you can see what you want in dreams without getting hurt. Reality brings pain and suffering along with joy. He was in two minds. It had been years he had not met her… but that was not fully true because he occasionally met her in dark or moon-lit nights in his dreams. He wondered-“should I tell her what a great dream-maker she has been all these years or act fresh with ‘pleasure seeing you’ stiff upper lip expression or just tell her sorry I am busy.”
His tender mind questioned-“why is she interested in me?” Has she now no one else to have fun with? Has she got a hang of my dreams and how much I crave to possess her?” He found no concrete answers. All he could gather was vague assumptions and a few guesses. After all he decided to meet her but with one promise to himself-“thou shall not get laid by her.” At 12pm he gave her a buzz –“see you at six”.
He reached Mocha at six dot. She was already there sitting on the sofa with a glass of cold coffee and a hookah by her side. She was in a red skirt and a white string top. Her long hair hanged loosely on her back. She welcomed him with a smile and a tight hug. He had brought her red roses bought at the traffic light from the street kids. He clarified immediately though the color of the roses.
He said –“the red color means love but here it’s just accidental.”
She said smiling-“yes I know that”.
He started the conversation –“so what’s up these days?” and ordered a ‘heavenly mocha’ for himself.
She said offering him the hookah- “I am writing a book about life in big cities like Delhi, about parties, cocktails, orgies at the farmhouses in the suburbs etc...”
He said blowing smoke in the air-“sounds interesting”!
She further added-“it is about the life of a simple fellow from the countryside who gets caught up in the high life of a city and the interesting experiences he has with the different kind of people around.”
He said-“please tell me more about it”.
She said smiling -“wait till the book gets published. You can buy a copy.”
She asked taking a long gulp of smoke from the hookah–“what’s up with you these days”
He replied-“seeing you writing a book I too feel like writing one though I am not sure what I want to write about. Besides that I am busy with my work, books and music.”
They finished their drink and smoke and moved out to take a stroll. The place was full of young couples holding hands occasionally caressing and fondling each other, occasionally checking out the passers by. Showrooms sold the latest design of clothes, sports shoes and music. Restaurants served regional and continental cuisine. Discs were full of young crowd some dancing, some busy locking lips, some continuously groping each others bodies and Pubs full of men and women enjoying a drink in ‘happy hours’. Beauty parlors crowded with middle –aged withering women trying hard to maintain youthful looks, young ones getting their hair colored. The sun had set and clouds covered the blue sky. A sudden drizzle in the evening and cool wind was making the weather pleasant and romantic.
He asked –“what do you think about the United nations reforms?”
She replied-“I think India should have been there on high table long time back but it’s never too late. But India should get with full veto powers or it should be done away with for all members.”
She asked –“what do you think about love. Does it exist?”
He noticed a complete change of track and took some time to think about it.
He said –“love does exist and so does lust. It’s up to us what we choose. Many of us most of the time do not appreciate love because it’s not sexy and does not come from the expected places.”
Weather was getting stormy and it was time to part. He very strongly felt like holding her in his arms for an instant before saying goodbye. Four eyes met again. Time froze for a while.
She asked-“could you drop me home if you are not in hurry. It’s not far away.”
He said hesitatingly –“sure, my pleasure”
In 5 minutes car was standing in front of her place. It was a beautiful house surrounded by trees. The path was covered by the fallen leaves, wet due to the drizzling in the evening. Cold breeze was blowing and had started gathering momentum. The weather started turning stormy with thunder and lightening in the sky. No one had expected that weather will take such a sudden turn.
She told him “park the car in the garage and wait till the weather gets normal.”
He hesitated getting inside the house. He remembered the promise he had made to himself in the morning.
He said-“no thanks; I’ll wait here in the car in the garage.”
A wicked smile appeared on her face. She said-“ok, as you feel comfortable. Since you are my guest here I must bring you some drink. What would you like to have tonight- scotch, champagne, wine or vodka?”
He thought-“it’s not a bad idea to have a glass of red wine while waiting. Good for the heart”.
He said-“red wine would be great.”
In a jiffy she got scotch for herself and a glass of red wine for him in the car down in the garage. It was raining hard outside. Power supply was gone and there was a complete black out. Occasional lightening lit up the whole place for a while only to be engulfed by the pervading darkness all around.
She asked sipping her whisky-“did you ever think about me?”
He said looking into her eyes-“no never”.
She said-“then why did you come today to meet me if you had completely forgotten me.”
He kept mum gulping small sips of red wine slowly.
She asked –“are you scared of me”
He replied-“no”.
She said-“then why don’t you come up and have dinner with me till the weather gets normal.”
He smiled and looked into her eyes. Four eyes met again and his mind got filled with the flashes from those moon-lit nights which brought him so close to her. He had started losing himself.
She pulled him close. Eyes gave way to lips. The storm outside had found its way inside the garage and had entered the car. The car shook badly. Occasional lightening lit up their faces and bodies.
When the storm was over the hunger struck them both. She rang up a pizza joint for some fresh food but they refused home delivery in the storm and heavy rain. Hunger knows no reasoning; it does not understand the limitations of the outside world. It must satisfy itself no matter what happens. They ran into the kitchen, grabbed the leftover food and ate as they had not eaten in days.

Untitled

I wish i could paint better nevertheless... just some passing strokes of brush and some paint...

My Paintings!

Woman and Man- a
matter of geometry???

One Year In Blogging

I have completed one year in blogging this April. Its a great feeling. In this time period I have shared my ideas with my friends, acquaintances and many other unknown people who read my blog. I have made a few friends as well who share my ideas and encourage me to continue writing. In my opinion what really makes 21st century, the 21st century is the ability and freedom to express one's ideas about everything in the universe and share it with the rest of the humanity. Blogging is what unites us as one human family beyond the barriers of nation-state boundaries. Through blogs we reach out to each other and get to know whats happening in our lives and in the world we live in today. I consider blogging of as much historical importance in the evolution of human thinking and civilization as of printing. In a way blogging widens the horizons of printing by taking every one's opinion to everyone without any physical barriers and without the editorial scrutiny of established publishing giants or organizations or States. What a wonderful tool in the hands of humanity! I believe and hope that our generation will use this very powerful instrument to tackle the challenges the humanity faces today and bring peace and prosperity to our only home Earth.
On this occasion I wish all the fellow bloggers a very creative journey ahead!

Light a Candle Foundation

“Light a Candle” Foundation


“Small money can make a big difference in the developing world and good education can transform the individuals and in turn the societies, nations and the world.”

My life was transformed by support of my parents who saved their little income to get me good education. For the first 10 years I only needed Rs. 500($10) per month and then for the next five years Rs. 1000 ($20) per month. Later on when I went to the university I needed Rs. 3000($60) per month for another five years. Thus if we calculate the total amount of money over a period of twenty years which went into transforming me from a school boy to a university post-graduate would be Rs. 300000 or US$ 6000. After joining the Indian Foreign service and being posted to Moscow for my first foreign assignment my salary along with the foreign allowance sums up to be slightly more than US $ 2000 per month. Thus I recovered all the money spent on me over twenty years in just three months time. Now I have saved enough money to support a few school going students and transform their lives over a period of two decades. The question now is how can I do it? How to canalize my savings to transform lives of the poorest of the poor? The first thing that comes to my mind is to set a foundation for this purpose. I thought a name for it. Many names came to my mind but “Light a Candle” seemed to be the most appropriate as it is self explanatory about its mission. One candle can light the other and the process goes on and on till the last candle is lit.
The foundation can begin by supporting motivated children in the countries of South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa. The foundation would be their mentor and educational guardian from the school time up-to the time they are ready to get on with their lives.

ANY SUGGESTIONS???