Mind Frame

A day before Diwali, in New Delhi...Saw her on the other side of the car window... Sadistic the winter air beats across her bones, Open palms,watery eyes & rags for what she calls clothes, Blisters on her knuckles and a smile upon her lips, A three year old by her side,a younger one on the hips. Gods name she calls for alms to help her by, Shadowed is her future as lights light up the sky, Diwali is what she asks me for, gives blessings in return, Her frail hands near the fire, shreds of wood they burn. My hands search my pockets for remnants of her hope, They too are empty, but at least am warm in the biting cold.

2 year old Lara at the NGO i interned at in Dec 2008... Somethings grow on you... the dogs did...

24th April 2009....2300 hours outside Wilson...Macchican Hall.. Mumbai... The city does not sleep.. My cellphone camera again..

Long time ago i happened to read about the displacement of a village in Gujrat due to the Narmada dam construction and how people who have stayed there for years are moving away after dismantling their dreams and their domes altogether. Following are a few lines that i penned thinking about what it would be like to leave all that you have ever had for the bleak unknown. I think it would be imperative that someone in that situation would only yearn to go back and that is what i have tried to summarise in the few lines that i have written here..... करवटों से सिली हुइ सपनों की जहाँ चादर थी , बारिशों में पली बड़ी बूंदों की जहाँ साजिश थी, बादलों सा बहता हुआ आशाओं का था जहाँ तराना, लौटा दो वो गाँव मेरा जहाँ था मेरा सिराहना। लौटा दो वो गाँव मेरा जहाँ था मेरा सिराहना। धुप में खिलती थी जहा बचपन की वोह मेरी बातें, अमिया के पेड़ तले ठंडी ठंडी सी रातें, कच्चे पक्के से रास्तों पे से जहाँ था मेरा आना जाना, लौटा दो वोह गाँव था जहाँ मेरा सिराहना। लौटा दो वोह गाँव जहाँ था मेरा सिराहना।