Burning India

Today, when I looked up into the sky a strange spec plopped into my mentation “what if those devil clouds are being impregnated with ferocious slag instead of water fossils.”  Are they going to burn this elegant, ultramodern, sophisticated city or are they going to submerge it? However I am going to bleed money somewise. I always hated these dark, infernal demons. Why don’t they dye?

Its decades back when I visited Afghanistan. I preyed all unschooled, antisocial, barbaric rudiments. And years after they only blame me for their social holocaust. Those miserable clouds returned. Hurt and anguished I, decided to leave them alone with their agony. But whenever I see an opportunity, to improve societies and their economical stature, I find myself helpless and I run.

And now I am in Indiaah. Circumstances are strange up here. Yesterday I heard a saint preaching his followers “In the absence of wisdom, the physical and material things we adore as our own, later become uninteresting, dry, and exasperating and far later become bothersome.” I find it malicious and contagious; it gives me nightmares.  But as these nightmares were not enough, today I got a troublemaker that one of my houses were bombed. How’s that possible? After all, those clouds are not permitted back there.

However up here I was reading a sacred book; Lord Krishna coached Arjuna to carnage his own siblings and descendants on behalf of truth. I find it alien, even some of my brother and sister Indians find this alien. And even if for a moment I accept this as a truth, can you instruct me how come and where I search Lord Krishna in this modern era to lecture me; No don’t try to lecture me further, it’s terrifying. I am already distressed. Today few Naxals killed some of my brothers and sisters up here. Uff… these nasty clouds always prey my slaves.

Rudiments keep crying for their tradition, farmers don’t want to be industrialists, Gandhians are glued with morality and values, saints are attached with god once and for all and on… and on…. and on…. Clouds are already emitting slag up here. My sufferings are endless. But I shall do what I want to do. Stop me if you can!!

However dissipated by distress, grief, and misery, I forgot to introduce myself. I am your neighbour greed, but you can’t recognize me because I dye.

Monsoon

Monsoon  has arrived. One said if we are not suffering from a problem then we create one. Yesterday whilst travelling via bus as I started counting travellers arriving and departing; twenty five entered and twenty ousted and I was twenty first. By nature, only a turbulent enjoys the chaotic circumstances and rest enjoy the progression of cease fire, fantasizing frigidity or at least re-enunciation. Gandhi criticized the condition of public transportation in India and the circumstances under which mass of people travelled through it in his time; however, conditions are more or less analogous in this time as well. Let’s come back to the shebang; over a period of twenty years I asked a synonymous question to at least ten people and all of them diagnosed a lion within themselves and many more declares their self-styled secret willingly in applicable or inapplicable circumstances.

Meanwhile Monsoon has arrived; hoped-for in urban and a carnival in parochial India; meanwhile inauspicious for pickpockets; uncanny as well for stained soles and vicious snitchers and nosers. Meanwhile Monsoon leaves out India in two apocarpous allotments; one flooded and another rainless, and perhaps third as prosperous. Hope nature pours out lesser dichotomy this season. Meanwhile needy ants have been come out of their eyelets to celebrate the Monsoon and to grab their compassion, and their right as well. An ant reminds a brainy a daredevil. An ant delimitates between a lion and a self-styled lion.

Colourful umbrellas have been come out of their cemeteries again, the second most famous broadcaster of Monsoon after frogs; found ubiquitously effacing the lines between urban and pastoral, deprived and privileged, and genders as well; colours may differ, basic exigencies are same. And those deep black, sky-high vapours are the most obvious announcers of the Monsoon, overflowing every single pit indiscriminately and non-discriminatory. Many get wet in icy water and many more fell down on slippery earth and a few take a dip in invisible gutters and few take advantage and show up and more and more unsurprisingly never show up. Who fell, slipped, got drenched would outshine their preceding experience just to be outshined by the next Monsoon.

The frogs who took a chance will swim in open water free, but vulnerable and who didn’t show up will remain protected and safe in their well, a point of view however.

Few stills of Monsoon from my camera lenses. 

A Graceful view of Hindu Temple. Mighty Monsoon clouds up in the sky. [Mumbai 16/06/2012]

Raging Clouds over the city [Mumbai 15/06/2012]

City trees waiting for Monsoon. Clouds finally arrived. [Mumbai 15/06/2012]

Happy Monsoon.....

Brajesh Kumar