Dead Woman Walking...

She woke up from her slumber...
A deep sleep she had been put to ...
She woke up from her dreams ...
Fantasies of love fed to her.

She was pale and yellow ...
Blood drained from her being ...
As if a Vampire had sucked ...
The nectar of her life.

Thence her return sees ...
A new Diva in form ...
A white Ghost ...
A Dead Woman Walking.

Wandering through meandering paths ...
Flowing robes and flowery Scent ..
She smells of fresh Roses ..
Bled from the thorns ...
Embedded in her heart.

Her Soul lost somewhere ...
She searches deep within ...
She searches far and wide ...
No meaning of her life.

Dead Woman walking ...
They can all see ...
Smiling benevolently ...
Speech a delight ...
Yet, an emptiness...
In her vacant eyes.

Love transgresses all Boundaries...

He, a strappy young Scientist ... She, an aging mom of two ... they met never yet fell in love... He with the concept that she was younger and She, with a view that he was progressive.

When She told him her reality, He left her... She was left heart wrenched and soul less. Vacant eyes searching for him in every nook and corner, she died somewhere that night and never rose from her living grave.

And, we all think Love transgresses all boundaries... this lesson taught her never to believe in proverbs ... all a lie ; the words he had uttered ; the sweet nothings that stirred her soul... tired from the emotional exhaustion; she falls into a silence that tells a million tales.

A million moments spent wondering what was wrong in telling the Truth? a million moments spent lamenting that She shouldn't have told the Truth..... Whatever be, she heaves a sigh and moves forth .... there a re  a million battles to be fought and a million fake smiles to be worn to adorn the face that little ones love to kiss.

Love transgresses all boundaries, a myth, a proverb falsified by the truth She stood by.

Mahua & Chandru ...

This story shall find its way to the hearts of many and countless would weep at the fate of Mahua The Village damsel & Chandru the Coachman.

Chandru was  a hard working Coachman ... a Gaadivaan with Bulls called Sheroo & Gilloo. Very famous in Village Races and working hard to earn a living.

All the belles from villages far and near swooned when he went past them in his Bulllock cart but he had eyes for none but a dream girl from his imagination.

Mahua,  a beautiful orphaned girl all of 16 was the very epitome of pristine beauty whom her step mother wanted to get rid of. So, One day she drugged Mahua and her brother carried Mahua over towards the City to sell her off to flesh traders there. But, Mahua woke up midway and struggled with the vile old man and ran away from his clutches. Running throughout the rest of the night she collapsed in a heap on the highway near the forest edge .

Meanwhile, after a long work schedule, Chandru was on his way back home.

Chandru saw Mahua lying on the road ahead. He got off the Bullock Cart and went near her. He was mesmerized by her beauty. His dream girl was here lo behold! he picked her up and carried her over to his cart. Sheroo & Gilloo gave each other the looks... he is a goner now.

Chandru revived Mahua from her unconscious state by sprinkling water on her face. He was totally a lost case looking at her flawless skin and pristine beauty.

Mahua opened her eyes and looked right into Chandru's eyes... they locked instantly into a trance. Sheroo & Gilloo shook their heads and the jingling bells around their neck broke the reverie of the duo.

Mahua told Chandru her story. Chandru told her he would take her back to her village. She said there was no one waiting for her there. he was a bit apprehensive to take her to his home. He told her he would drop her off to the nearest Police station. She had no choice but to agree. Chandru took Mahua to the nearest Police station in his Bullock cart.

On the way, his song kept Mahua entertained. Chandru left Mahua at the gate of the Police Station thinking he had done a great deed. He was tongue tied looking at her beauty but was afrad to take her home. Little did he know what fate had in store for them.

Two years passed since that incident.

One night, Chandru had to stop overnight at a Village. He decided to pay a visit to a nautanki happening there. He was in for a surprise. There dancing on the stage was Mahua.

He was stunned. While dancing, Mahua had seen him too. After the show, Chandru was summoned to her tent. There he stood speechless watching her. SHe told him, after he left her at the Police station, the Daroga (Stationmaster) and constables raped her and sold her off to the Nautanki Master. She was a slave here dancing  and into flesh trade eversince. Chandru was stunned and ashamed at his cowardice. she was the one whom he loved and she trusted him and this is where he had sent her. He turned and walked away in a lifeless gait.

The next morning, Sheroo & Gilloo reached home with the cart but Chandru wasn't in it.

They say he committed suicide by jumping off the cliff of the nearby Mountain.

When carts pass by the Mountain they can hear Chandru's Ghost sing in the wind ... they can feel his presence there lamenting his fate and that of Mahua.

Mahua too committed suicide on hearing Chandru's fate.

They say, their souls never met yet roam around that area searching each other.

The story of Mahua & Chandru a legend in itself of Unrequited Love.

Burning Altar ...

They put you on  a pedestal ...
They, them , the World ...
The lesser mortals and beasts from hell ...
Then, one fine day ....
They pull you down,
Strip you naked and ...
Nail you to the altar ...
And, Burn you down ....
Just like in days of yore ...
Joan of Arc today I am ...
Tomorrow, am no more.

They worship you ...
Your Beauty their nectar ...
The honey they savour ...
They lie on your path like a carpet ...
Woven of human desires ...
Then, they gnaw your flesh and ...
Paw your face ...
They peel your skin ...
And, bury you in salt.

Exalted, you give in to their demands...
You let them cajole you ...
You allow them to kiss your feet ...
Then, they rear their ugly head ...
They pinch you...
They punch you ...
You lie their naked in your pain...
The aches ebbing ....
Waxing and waning ...
You just lie their doubled up.

They drag you to the Altar of sacrifice ...
They gift you to their unfulfilled desires ...
They pile up logs around you ...
Add fuel to the fire ...
And, they burn you at the Altar.

The Burning Altar ...
Is your life O' Fair one ...
That is what they chose for you ...
Unbecoming in your innocence ...
You became their stick of incense...
Fragrant yet frail ...
You burn to ashes today ...
Tomorrow, you shall rise again.

Rise O' Phoenix....
Rise from the ashes ...
The smouldering heap...
From the Burning Altar.

मास्टर साहिब

कोई नहीं जानता वोह कहाँ से आये और कब आये .  बस यही पता था की उनको सब मास्टर साहिब कह कर पुकारते ठी त्वीत्वा गाँव में.

गाँव के स्कूल के वोह मास्टर और गिनती के चार थू बच्चे . उनमें ठी फुलवा के दो बच्चे. फुलवा खूबसूरत , गाथा हुआ शरीर, एकलौती माँ दो मासूम बच्चों की., कहते हैं फुलवा का पति एक दिन शेहेर गया तोह वहीँ का हो कर रह गया और वापस नहीं आया.

फुल्वा अकेली अपने दो बच्चों को म्हणत मजदूरी कर के पाल रही थी.

वो रोज़ सुबह बच्चों को स्कूल छोड़ कर खेतों पे काम पे निकल जाती, थाकुरैन  के घर भी काम करती और दोपहर थोडा जल्दी स्कूल पहुँचती और मास्टर साहिब तब बच्चों को पढ़ा रहे होते और वोह एक तक बैठे सारे सबक सीख लेती. फिर बच्चों को ले कर वाप[अस घर जाती और फिर काम पे लौट जाती , और गए रात को घर वापस आती.

एक दिन मास्टर साहिब ने बच्चों से गणित का एक कठिन सवाल पुछा. कोई भी जवाब ना दे पाया तभी पीछे से किसी ने दबी आवाज़ में जवाब दिया. पूरइ क्लास पलट कर देखने लगी की किसने जवाब दिया. देखा तो फुलवा थी. मास्टर साहिब भी रोज़ देखते ठी की फुलवा आ कर पीछे बैठ जाती है पर इतना सीख जाएगी उन्होंने ख्वाब में भी ना सोचा था.

जब स्कूल की घंटी बजी और सब जाने लगे तो मास्टर साहिब ने फुलवा को अपने पास बुलाया. और कहा " फुलवा तुम इतनी होशियार हो, स्कूल क्यूँ नहीं आती पढने ?" फुलवा ने कहा " मास्टर साहिब कैसे आऊँ? काम कौन करेगा?" मास्टर साहिब ने ने एक उपाय निकला और फुलवा से कहा की रोज़ शाम वोह काम से घर जाते वक़्त उनके घर आ कर पढ़े.

अब हर शाम फुलवा मास्टर साहिब के घर काम से लौटते वक़्त जा कर पढाई करती. वोह बहुत खुश थी. मास्टर साहिब उसकी अद्भुत सीखने की कला से चकित थे.

बारिशों का मौसम था. एक दिन काम से लौटते वक़्त फुलवा भीग गयी. मास्टर साहिब ने उसे अपने कपडे दिए पहनने के लिए .. सफ़ेद कुरता और धोती में फुलवा बहुत खूबसूरत दिख रही थी और बिजली कडकी... फिर क्या हुआ कोई जाने ना ... पर अगले दिन भोर को फुलवा अपने घेर पहुंची... लोगों ने उसे मास्टर साहिब के घर से सुबह निकलते देखा... गाँव में बातें बन्ने लगी और मास्टर साहिब गायब हो गए. फुलवा रोज़ मास्टर साहिब के घर जाती पर वहां सिर्फ एक ताला उसे मुंह चिडाता. गाँव वालों के तानों से तंग आ कर एक दिन फुलवा भी अपने दोनों बच्चों को ले कर शेहेर चली गयी.

शेहेर में फुलवा ने एक स्कूल में आया की नौकरी से काम शुरू किया पर उस की काबिलियत और म्हणत रंग लायी. आज २५ साल बाद फुलवा के खुद के स्कूल का समारोह है. फुलवा अपने बच्चों के साथ आई है . वहां फुलवा की मुलाक़ात मास्टर साहिब से होती है. वोह उस  के स्कूल में काम पर लगे हैं. मास्टर साहिब फुलवा को देख कर दुंग रह गए. फुलवा उनके करीब गयी और कहा " आप कहाँ काले गए ठी मास्टर साहिब? हम आप का इंतज़ार करते रह गए. मिलिए मेरे बच्चों से ... अमित, अमीषा और अमन. " मास्टर साहिब ने कहा " पर आपके तो दो बच्चे थे " फुलवा जाते जाते मुस्कुरा कर कहा " अमन आप की सौगात है मास्टर साहिब"


आज दस साल बीत गए हैं. फुलवा अब नहीं रही. पर उसके स्कूल और कॉलेज हैं जो उसके बच्चे सम्भाल्ल्तेय हैं. हाँ और एक वृद्धाश्रम भी , जहाँ मास्टर साहिब रहते हैं इस आस में की कभी अमन से मुलाक़ात हो जाये.

ये कहानी कहने को तोह मास्टर साहिब की है ... पर वाकई में यह कहानी फुलवा की है और उसके हिम्मत और साहस की निशानी है.

The Scientist & his Muse ...

He tinkers with timers and jars ...
Solves formulas and creates new ones ...
He propounds theories ...
And, proves them right ...
All along he immersed himself ...
In work none could understand.

All was hunky dory ...
A perfect World for him to live in ..
Till she arrived ...
Then, nothing was the same....
The was something ...
That stirred within him ...
His heart skipped a beat ...
He lost count of his days and nights ...
She was all he could think.

A goddess of his dreams ...
Dreams he began to dream ...
Dreams that shattered ...
When he came to know her truth.

Yet, somewhere deep down ...
He knew she never lied ...
She was the epitome of Love ...
A love he craved ...
The Scientist immersed himself ...
In his work yet again ...
While she waited for him to Realize.

The Muse...
Aged and ripe ...
Yet untouched by vice ...
Waited upon the man she fell for ...
The man for whom she took a chance ...
The man who threw her out ...
The moment he knew her truth ....
She waited ...
For he was her truth ...
He was her fountain of youth.

A Foot & Ball inches closer ...

If words be the medium to express one's innermost feelings , a Foot & Ball situation is the most apt way to describe words spoken in misguided disguise by men and women all the same.

It is like being in the presence of a being that sees you only as an object of desire. Full of himself yet so giving , a puppy dog yet a roaring raring Lion elsewhere maybe.

In other circumstances, a man speaking to me about Bed, bath & Linen would have got my knees hitting them hard in the balls but I guess this is one child exploring his options in a virtual world.

Well,  a one hour talk ain't enough time to know a person based on an auditory interaction. Sometimes, even a lifetime ain't enough. Guess, need to give this Football fan some time before he freaks out or is brave enough to weather a personality stronger than his own and her whims and fancies.

So, till further notice and interaction with an interesting person hooked onto Hookah and self obsession with Footballs , let's close this chapter here with a foot in the mouth and the balls in the crotch where they belong ;-)

Identity Versus Individuality

Identity in Philosophy : Also called sameness, is whatever makes an entity definable and recognizable

As per any dictionary :

i·den·ti·ty

  [ahy-den-ti-tee, ih-den-]

noun, plural i·den·ti·ties.

1.

the state or fact of remaining the same one or ones, as under varying aspects or conditions

2.

the condition of being oneself or itself, and not another

3.

condition or character as to who a person or what a thing is

4.

the state or fact of being the same one as described.

5.

the sense of self, providing sameness and continuity in personality over time and sometimes disturbed in mental illnesses

Well, if a name identifies me , then I am who I am just because a word says so. 

But, am I just a name. Is my identity defined by my name or my personality and my work?

I won't take any other example but my own. 

My maiden name is very different from the name I currently exhibit. I was popular even with that name, successful and happy. With my new name, I am infamous, popular of course, successful for others but the name itself sets my life in shambles. 

Why so? You may ask and the answer is ....

Your name defines your fate. 

Example; It was Lord Krishna's Birth Anniversary a couple of days ago and I was tagged with him... People tag me as Radhe Shyam, Radhe Govind etcetra etcetra. Why tag me as Lord Krishna's love interest? Why should that name define me or my fate? But, it does to some extent.

My identity is my work, my children and their actions. 

I had an identity as my father's daughter ... Am proud of my legacy

I had an identity as my in laws daughter in law ... Am proud I was a good Daughter in Law

I had an identity as the wife of an upcoming Naval officer ... I was proud of that identity and still am, despite a divorce from the said person

I have an identity as a mother to two very bright individuals ... am proud of it

But, somewhere in enacting all these roles I never realised I was Someone, That I had an identity of my own. MY OWN INDIVIDUALITY.

So, I won't say that changing names changes who I am ... My own individuality should remain as it is untouched by any aspersions as such.

So, It's not Pushpalata Chauhan  or Radhika Nanda that my Identity is, My identity is the family I represent, the children I gave birth to, The people I touched in my life ... The work that defines my personality.

My identity is the legacy I leave behind in the form of well informed youth of tomorrow via my School and the work I do. My identity are the countless coworkers, colleagues and my staff that have benefited with my presence in their lives.

I am proud to be known as my Father's Daughter

I am proud to be known as Angad and Anusuya's Mom

I am proud of my legacy ... not only as a daughter but as a daughter in law and now as an Individual in my own right.

My identity changed with every role I played ...

Despite a divorce, I maintain my marital name... for that is the identity my children identify with... Do I have the right to change it for them? Will it be right for me to do so? 

I am proud of being known as Radhika Nanda ... The Phoenix that rose from her ashes ... No identity crisis here ... but an individual born of conflict and pain Once Again.

By changing my name, I didn't change my destiny nor myself ... I grew stronger and developed my own individuality.

So, it is not identity that matters but your uniqueness.

How Unique and different are you from the rest of the World?

Name can be changed but NOT YOU. You stand out alone in a crowd different from the rest because of your uniqueness and your personality.

So, when you change your name and tag someone's surname to your name, you embrace that person as your own, you melt in with their personality and emerge a victor with a new name and a stronger person Because, you have added more vitamins and energy boosters to your already defined personality.

By changing your name, you don't change anything about you but you get closer to the other and his or her family. Ye, the prerogative need not be only for a woman to change her name but a man can also do the same and that is where the difference lies ... a woman is an all becoming epitome of sacrifice .... but, she can keep her name and that of her partner too yet remain single in her Uniqueness ... that is an INDIVIDUAL.