The new system

Some friends bunk the class,
What is use of it,
If by YouTube, Wikipedia, you can pass.

Sitting in same room all day,
Listen to a person blabbering,
Student’s mind blowing away,
Can’t we ask why,
What not everyday is holiday.

Why we can’t stay at home,
In this age of internet,
Why we can’t stay with mom,
And study just through net.

This, seems to be the thinking,
That prevails in today’s world,
Classes are old fashioned,
Only for bookworms and nerd.

What about the other things,
The respect for your teacher,
The experience it brings,
The values we need to nurture.

Things that need human interaction,
Basic courtesy and respect for others,
Needed for the society to function,
Making friends and contacts,
To help in important life junction.
Are these not important any more,
Are these things, just a bore??

Present generation is smart and fast,
But they still face this dilema,
Weather to conserve or ditch the past.

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Stories in a metro

In the metro I travel,
A dozen stories to unravel,
Each passenger carry a fable,
I can guess only the label.

I like to play a detective,
Observing quietly is my tactic,
Analysing different retrospective,
Makes you more connective.

First, I see a man,
Sitting on a seat,
Clutching his bag,
Like a thief away a feet,
Must have learnt a lesson,
In public,
never be careless for a beat.

A women holding hands of her child,
Dropping her to school on early rise,
Parenting is a job of big size.

Some Muslim men with long beard,
Might change at Central Secretariat,
For Jama Masgid is neared.

All youngster on their phones,
Listening music or playing games,
Too busy to appreciate the,
Beauty around them, what a shame.

A couple lurking in back corner,
Showing affection to each other,
God not, love be for how much longer,
Little gurantee, they will take it further.
(lovers now a days)

An old man entered the train,
Body frail and the face pale,
3 people at once stand up without fail.
Seeing this kind of sensitivity,
My trust strengths in humanity.

Many other characters,
Young and old,
Each is a conspirator,
Of stories usually not told.

And here comes my station,
I got off the train,
Leaving behind all the characters,
To travel alone on my lane.

Supreme wisdom = ‘You are nothing’

Someone advised me to read,
A book of supreme wisdom ‘Tantra’
It is my holidays, I was bored,
So what harm in trying another mantra.

Looking in your inside,
Sure is a experience,
That makes you mistified.
Your outer ego die
You starts to realise,
It was all just a lie.

This is the thing ,
That makes me anxious,
If my surroundings, my world,
Is a lie, am I also fictionous.

Among the mystics,
There is a saying,
You are like a onion,
Keep peeling it to reach the core,
You will be amazed when done,
The truth will stand out,
The size of core is none.

The concept of an inner core,
Of a self, of the word ‘I’,
Is just a myth, a tale, a lore,
Everything is a big big lie.

All those theories of physics,
Our universe can be 2D, or a game,
Makes me feel very sick,
Wealth, family, friends, power or dame,
Has no meaning, just a trick.

If universe is just nothing,
Then what is our purpose,
The goals to make millions,
Sending papa on a world tour,
Helping the needy civilians.

All just would me meaning less,
Whatever you do , doesn’t matter,
Whom to love, whom to impress,
You are void, when this dream shatters.

The virtue of sacrifices

image
Greatest symbol of Sacrifice

God’s greatest gift to mankind
Is our body , soul and mind
Without these gifts even
Our existence will be blind.

So, why not enjoy these gifts
Why not do everything
That make our spirits lifts
Why do we need to care about
Any on this world’s shits.

This feels a great virtue to live by,
Enjoying life full and hard,
Drink, play, dance , don’t be shy,
Why sacrifice anything at all,
Sacrifice are great, feels like a lie.

You may feel like this,
Sacrifices has no bliss,
If you feel so, I am sorry
You are giving
Something great, a miss

True, sacrifices take away
Something you like
A close friend , memorables
Or a desired bike

But, there is a happiness,
Free from many distress,
Leaving something for others
May feel like a bless.

A mother wants a new handbag
So, with her friends, she can brag
But, instead she decided to take,
A cake for her children, she can bake.
Sacrificing her bragging for a cake,
What you feel
Is she more happy, or regret make her shake.

The satisfaction she will feel then,
Cannot be written with a pen.
A little regret for this feeling
Is what we call good dealing.

Everyone wants to enjoy their life
Think what happens,
If everyone do what they like,
Students will never study,
And play all day with their buddy.
Air station personal will sleep at night
Forgetting about sky full of flights.
Your father go to bar, to feel like a guy,
Instead of singing you a lullaby.
Soldiers will leave border to their fate,
As they are missing their mate.

Can you imagine such a world,
It will be like a flying bird,
Heading senselessly
Till it is blasted to shreds.

Sacrifices are the engines of this world,
That keeps it functioning and move it forward
Small and big ,sacrifices made by everyone of us,
Never get unawarded, for the world is are a plus,
In return you get, satisfaction, happiness and god’s own trust

The gift of Bhai Dhuj

     Yesterday, we celebrated Bhai Dhuj, a festival today marks the end of festival season.
     On this day, millions of sisters in India, give respect to their brothers by putting a tilak’* on their head. And brothers in turn pledge to protect their sisters from any harm.
     With increasing incidents of crime against women in the cities, I plan to do something new

Wrote a poem

The poem
On the eve of this Bhai Dhuj
I plan to step in a new shoe
On this day
Brothers pledge to protect their sisters
From any danger , rapist or molesters
But what happens if we are not near them
Then, who is to be blame
To truly protect our sisters
We must make them self sufficient
Against any rapist or molesters
So this gift for these lovely ladies
To give them lots of blisters.

And then, gifted her a pepper spray to protect herself.

image

Rather then gifting just money, isn’t something that really protects your sisters is better. Think about it!

Thanks for reading

*tilak’ :a distinctive spot of colored powder orpaste worn on the forehead by Hindu men and women as a religious symbol

A song to spread awareness about dangers in interments

इस गीत को “ऐ मेरे वतन के लोगो”

ऐ ग्रीनपावर के सदस्यो, गोलगपों में भर लो पानी,
जो निवेश किया है उसकी जरा पता करो कहानी।

जब मालुम हुआ परोजैक्ट, बन गये सदस्य झटपट,
35 लाख बता के इक घरौंदे की सुनवा दी आहट।
लोन जुटाने को फिर शुरू हो गई थी खींचातानी,
जो निवेश किया है उसकी जरा पता करो कहानी।

स्टरकचर खड़ा होते ही किमत 30 फिसदी बढ़ाई,
डिफालटर होने की भैया फिर ही तो नौबत आई।
देरी से भुगतान पर ब्याज ने याद दिलाई है नानी,
जो निवेश किया है उसकी जरा पता करो कहानी।

बिलडर ने जो देरी की है काम पूरा करने में भारी,
सब करते क्यों नहीं हक खातिर लड़ने की तैयारी।
देरी के मुआवजे के लिये आवाज है सदस्यो उठानी,
जो निवेश किया है उसकी जरा पता करो कहानी।

कोर सदस्य क्यों चुप बैठ कर देख रहे हैं तमाशा,
झुठी सच्ची कुछ तो  इस गरूप को दे दो दिलासा।
समस्या हल करने की खातिर बात कर लो सयानी,
जो निवेश किया है उसकी जरा पता करो कहानी।
        
                         – श्री प्रकाश चंद्र गुप्ता
                           (मेरे पिताजी )
Note  : more paras r invited for this song.

The ironical Sudama

    Sudama was a very close friend of Lord Krishna. They spend most of their childhood together. But when Lord Krishna became Dwarika Naresh (king of Dwarka) , poor Sudama went to Lord Krishna’s palace to beg for help to save his family from poverty.
    The story is as such that when he reached the palace gates, he was stopped and harassed by the palace guards. Even when queen Rukmani saw him (she doesn’t know he was Krishna’s friend), she pushes him out.
     Sudama was harassed until Krishna was told about his arrival. After that story takes completely opposite your.

     Thousands of year later, when this story was being enacted at Mata ki Choki(religious function devoted to Goddess Durga), act takes an ironical turn.

image
Poor Sudama with lots of money

    When Sudama entered , instead of being harassed by palace guards he was welcomed cash. garlands and notes of 10 rupees by all the devotees around.
    It is tradition, where you welcome the pandli members (those who sing Bhajans (devotional songs), and may entertain with some acts relating to mythology) with garlands and some money.
    Now,  the hands of poor Sudama were filled with some serious cash(zoom the pic). With backstage a little far away, he had no choice but to carry on with the act as it is.
     This incident is really an irony and funny to see the clash of Indian traditions.
       Religious and funny. The combination don’t seem often.