Sunday, July 30, 2006

Homecoming

Here I come again
With arms of lead
And lacerated feet.
Too many treadmills trod,
Too many burdens borne.
Too many mutilated milestones
Strewn across the bridle path.

Here I come again
With a limp in my stride
From chasing neon rainbows,
Seeking salvation in sandstorms,
Stretching out for tinsel stars
Pained on a plastic skyline.

Here I come again
Like salmon to the source –
To the circle of your arms
To the warmth of your smile
To the haven of your embrace.

Until a new moon rises
And waiting windmills call …


Frank Krishner 12 January 1994, Ranipul, Sikkim.


Note: Waiting windmills: reference to ‘tilting at windmills a la the Man of la Mancha , Don Quixote. Salmon to the source: salmon swim upstream, hundreds of miles to ‘home’ spawning season.

Monday, July 24, 2006

That's what friends are for


A picture says it all ... dedicated to my friends
throughout the years
every one of you
are special

Thursday, July 13, 2006

what can one say

What can I say to you

when the world blows up in your face
explodes into a million brillinatly biting bits
of chaos

I feel nothing
absolutely nothing at all
zombie like in front of the television screen
a thousand miles away
as the cub reporter chatters excitedly into the camera
with a carriage lying there
bowels ripped open in the background

what can I say to you
when my blood has frozen like nitrogen in my veins
sick with fear for those i know who take the daily suburban train
terrified of recognising a familiar form
a cuff, a ring, a kerchief
as the camera pans briefly and impassionately
over the casualties

causalties of hate
casualties of unreason
such senselessness,
such stupidity

what can i say
as you scavenge among the twisted mnetal
the blood drenched shards
in the hope
that who you're searching for, may not be found
just yet
not here

Bombay ....
what can i say to you
words are not enough
sorry ... so sorry.... so sorry....

so sorry

Sunday, July 09, 2006

The Fever, the North east, and I

Just a few lines as the World Cup Football fever subsides tonite

The fever of the Governor's Gold Cup in Sikkim has always been infectious
and I immensely enjoyed covering one of the most happening tournaments in the country for The Sikkim Express and the Telegraph between the years 1986 and 2002.

In Shillong, where i studied a bit, joined a seminary for a while, and returned to
work as assistant editor for The shillong times, and as a correspondent for The Times of India
I could witness the wild excitement right from the under seventeen matches, to the village tournaments, and of course the fierce loyalties between football fans of various clubs.

One of the most significant was the way the shopkeepers around the stadium closed their shutters a few minutes befdore the end of the inter-state tournaments ... especially the finals, one was never sure when the fans of the losingt side ... or the winning side, would go oin a rampage!!!

The North East is beautiful ... I have been blessed to have travelled through many towns and cities, covered may political and social processes, and have been one with the rhythm of the hills.

Memories... perhaps trapped in time ...The food, the bands like King Apple, Rusty Nails, and many others Rudy wahlang and the gang, Bob Dylan's Birthday,... Christmas, parties, treks and hikes, .... where else can you get the eclectic mix of the Mizo choir, the pungent thrumbai, well roasted dog meat on spits, and pork jaddoh, and also momos, tsang [chhang], and tsampa... ... ...

I hope that answers the query of the beautiful lady from the land of the seven sisters...

Friday, July 07, 2006

Gole

And now the final moment's come

the ball is in play
the stands are chock-full
the crowds at simmering point
the heat, the sweat, the tension
the Goal
the Cup

and then suddenly

its over

jubilation
tears

and a promise to meet again
when the earth has revolved
around the sun
four times

viva la foota

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Rainy season road-hogs and other PIGS

Living from day to day in Patna,
the celebrated 'city' of Patliputra
has its hassles
and nothing excaberates them more
than the advent of the rains.

a non-existent drainage system
coupled with rampant and unplanned construction
turns the streets of this town into a reservoir for dirty drain water

add to this the utter lack of concern for pedestrians
and other people
and the near absence of civic sense
and getting from one place to another ... just a walk
down to the nearest grocery becomes nightmarish
because of the odd PIG who will drive through the street
at a fast clip spraying everyone with the filthy water.

while it's admirable that there are so many
'bihar lovers' desperately trying to turn the tide of negative publicity
it would need a greater effort than just inventing
'I love Bihar' blogs
what's need is an all out effort to teach people to obey traffic signals
to clean the fronts of their own houses of the grabage they throw on the streets
to respect others' property
and to act like civilised humans
unfortunately, there is a significant number of Bihari Youth
who take pride in being 'rustic' 'ribald' 'rude' and 'anti- modern'
because that they believe is the trait of the true Bihari!