Let Us Today

Inspired from the great man, Sri Rabindranath Tagore...

Let Us Today

Let us today, break the shackles of routine

and be guided by the light of the unknown

do something our heart craves for

without caring about the thoughts of the world

let us today, live a day for ourselves.

Let us, wake up today, and hug those whom we love

tell them what they mean to us

and how their presence make our lives so liveable

how their smile becomes a reason for us to stay blissful

not because of what they are, but because what we are when with them.

How their existence becomes a reason for us to grow

into something better than we perceive ourselves to be

how their faith and trust in our capabilities

makes us transcend our own boundaries

and how the fear of their loss, makes us weep sometimes in despair.

We never told them how we feel for them,

perhaps we did not get the time

perhaps we considered it lunatic

but let us, today tell them their meaning in our lives.

Who knows? They might need those words themselves now.

Let us today, shout out in joy

and feel blissful for the pleasures life has endowed

Not thinking of being judged by the crowd

but simply ecstatic for what we’ve received

Let us today, say thanks to God

And praise him for his beautiful creation

which, maybe ignored till now

or perhaps we never got the time to stop by and look

but let us today, look at His miracle

and look at ourselves

and praise Him for the blessings and beauty he has provided.

Let us today, not feel the fear of deserting the herd

and walk our own paths, even if alone

for the life we have, is too precious to be lived

according to someone else’s dreams

who themselves lived the life of a different else

Let us walk our own paths, and feel confident,

that we’d not be walking alone the path of righteousness

That somewhere down the lane, we’d find someone

willing to walk by our sides

But till then, let us walk our own paths

Walk for what we believe in

let us today, not be affected by the narrow judgement of the wide crowd

and walk our own paths, for what we believe in.

Let us today, learn to have faith

in the words of people we respect

that everything heard and said, need not have an explanation

that there are some things, which words cannot justify

that sometimes, it’s only the words of another we should rely upon

Let us not fall into a trap of irrational belief

of superstitions and irrational visions

But let us today, have faith when one says

that everything’s gonna be alright

that the world will be a better place to live in

that you can be the change you wish to see

that the intellectual of one person may someday surpass the might of a million

that the voice which seldom speaks from your heart is the inner calling you must follow

that when you judge yourself too harshly, you rip a part from your own self

that few people actually care about the way you are, and would like to help.

Sometimes, you cannot find proof in everything you hear

but you’ve got to have faith, in people you hold dear.

Let us today, tear off the cobwebs around us

and wake up to a new reality

breaking the chains of routine

walking into a new future

Building a new world.

It seems difficult at first,

to break the boundaries of habit you’ve so skilfully kneaded around yourself

wrapped in the warmth of tradition

I seems difficult to go beyond

but a call for change has been made

and it’s your duty to hear the call

for one life is all what you get

either to be the change, and do what you wish for

or become the cobweb of your own boundations.

-         Vishal Gupta

November 21^st, 2010

Shashank

Here you go dude. Happy Children's Day.

Alisha

This one's for my dear sister. I like it. Hope you like it too :)

Siddharth

Hey dude. Sorry for the delay. It was a long name you know. Hope you like it.

Rupal

This one's for you. Hope you like it.

Back Home

Away from home

I feel afraid

‘coz no one’s here

to care for me

Away from home

‘m incomplete

I have no one

to say its k

I miss my mum

her faith on me

her selfless love

her tender touch

I miss mah dad

his silence serene

his wise advice

everything for me

I am away

from my sis

a friend in tides

a mother in love

Today, I wanna be back

Back where I belong to

To the place, I owe my life

Life, which made me go away

I know I’m here

so I can be back again

but from what I see

I go further away as I walk

Bound now in cobwebs

I find it hard to break-free

but no one understands that I

really do want to go back to those who need me

Tired from the harsh works and words

drenched in sweat and humiliation

I strive, I long for my mother’s lap

where I slept blissfully, unaware of the worries of the world

I do wish once more

to see the proud eyes of my father

what he sees from them, I long to find out

is it his child he carried on his shoulders once

or is it a boy, becoming a man

My sister, my constant support

whose words never failed to guide

whose unquestioned judgement, was taken unscathed

and her warm hug took all worry away

whenever I came home

I miss them all, more and more

I miss the beautiful place called home

I want to be back, I feel afraid

I want to be back, where someone says its k.

-         Vishal Gupta

October 3, 2010

Kota Days

My Tribute to the Days I spent in the City of dreams. To the land called "KOTA."

The Day I Cared

Yesterday, was another day,

when I chose not to care

where the crowd went, I did not follow

to stand alone I dared.

I missed the laughs the fun the cheer

I missed the presence, of someone near

But rowed my boat I did with delight

And altogether, had a different life.

Yesterday, I was so alone

so free, I had no boundation on my own

I slept peacefully, with no regret

‘coz each passing day, I lived my best.

I held my head high with panache

as I knew I could not go wrong

I had faith in my own eyes to see myself

and dishonoured the words of the world.

I built a path, of my own making

walked on, alone, the path not taken.

Gleefully I would rejoice

for I had no regret, and my life was my choice.

Yesterday, I could not care

if there was a soul beside me

Faith on self was my walking stick

No one else’s perspective I’d bothered to see.

Today, is a different day

when I’ve joined a herd in the mid

With everyone everywhere

I don’t even hear, what I myself related.

I am one amongst the many now

yet I offer no disparity

no one was affected by my presence

not me, nor the general tendencies.

Trying to be one in the crowd

I judge myself now by someone else’s eyes

How was I to find out?

The crowd cares not for such petite strives.

Regardless of what I do

I just cannot come into the view

and even if I’m able to accomplish the feat

it’s now of a genial cause.

I’ve now got to follow the pack

even if its will I lack

and the people outside whom the pack mocks I see

standing there freely, like once I used to be.

This united pack walks with me

but did not catch me when I fell

and dust their hands out of such falls

and walk right past me wishing me well.

I did get a hand in the crowd

I got it when the hand was needy

else the deaf hand, unaware of my subsistence

hath walked in the crowd, right beside me.

Here in the crowd

everyone walks together

but every man for himself is the motto

when life has anything to offer.

I see now the crowd doesn’t walk

it runs a race of rats

some are fooled by this cunning deceit

and help the running rats to the mast.

Today, I’ve started to care

and I’m no more lonely

but it has come at a cost I cannot bear

and I choose to return, to MY path

MY way, knowing, that I was right

having faith, on my own self

they say alone I shall be crushed

but in the crowd, I’m suffocated

and I choose lonely defeat, over letting my soul die in the pack

I choose to be alone, by myself

free independent, once again

so that, when I go to bed again

I know, I’ve lived, my own life.

-         Vishal Gupta

September 14^th, 2010

Frustt

Abused

Famished

Hurt

Punished

Stripped off the very foundations of dignity

Barred intellect from every reason

Rambling, on old charred orthodox rules

Fear, clutching the throat with each passing breath.

The more one draws in this sully air

The more is he mutated

Into a daft, absonant, irrational beast

roams in pack, weak when apart.

They say they instruct us

for harsh times to come

who tells them that hard times

in every life are inevitable.

Lost smiles, lost freedom, lost is peace of mind

Lost is the love, one once felt for life

Lost is faith, one once had on self

Bewildered, one wanders in wonder

whether to continue in the lunacy of the realm

or go walk on, alone.

-          Vishal Gupta

August 6^th, 2010

Friday, The 13th

This is a story I wrote for a competition in IIT Kharagpur. Hope you like it...

Friday, The 13th

I saw her. She looked lovely, like always. This was the day, I could see it in her eyes. She looked at me. Smiled. I smiled at her too. Slowly, she moved closer to me. Checked, if I was ready. To be honest, I was never more prepared. She sat beside me. Slowly speaking, she said,

“The time has come dear. I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

I looked at the fire in her eyes. I knew this was it. Yet, I could do nothing but just look at her. Even now her stunning appearance affected my senses as it did on the first time I’d seen her. Beautiful black gown delicately covering her slender body. God! I knew then what love was. But today was different. Different from any other day we’d seen before. She opened the drawer. I knew what she needed. I’d personally made sure last night that she finds the instrument in good shape. I looked at her as she devoured the sight of it. I knew this was the last time I was seeing this gleeful look on her face. Everything would be different after this. Seems so unreal how only one night could change everything. But after last night, I myself am surprised to believe in my own existence.

Feburary 13^th, 2009. 1:30 AM. Friday.

It was the most memorable night I ever had. It had been so long since we’d been together. Alone. Me, and Shreya. But tonight we were together again. And what a time we had. We’d talked, danced, cooked, ate, everything. I always told her that I loved her more than she loved me. Tonight, I was to know how true I was. Safely resting in my arms that night she told Amit how she was going to come back to him. Once she got rid of the old man with nothing to offer other than his wealth, she’d be back to him. She smiled after this. It was the same smiled which once made me fall in love with her. This time though, it could not produce the same effect. After a cold silence of 30 seconds, Amit asked.

“When do you plan to get rid of your old man?”

“When do you want me to?” Came the direct reply.

“Tomorrow.”

All the old man could hear was a light giggle. After which he could hear heartbeats. Two distinct rhythms. One light, composed, peaceful. Of pleasure and ecstasy. Another of regret, sadness, purposefulness. The same purposeful heartbeats which the other heart would have the next morning.

She looked at the blade for the last time. It was the last time she was experiencing thoughts which her mind was guiding. I had nothing left to loose. It was her turn. The smile was still on her face. A smile she’d carry for the rest of her mournful life. Her final words,

“Goodbye Old Man.”

She lifted the blade, pulled off the blanket and then, everything drowned in her scream. She dropped at the sight of the blood. The spotless knife lay shining beside her.

-          Vishal Gupta

Saudade

I  remember the night,

I’d asked you to go

you were much surprised

I was yours no more.

You kept calling me back

I did not return

I wouldn’t you knew

Alone your heart had burnt.

I had promised you,

To never let you go

Still I know it was me

How could I be so low.

I lost your trust

I lost love

I lost a friend

It all came to an end.

Now I have broken you

and you have gone afar

Still I don’t know why

Misses you my heart.

But you did not leave alone

A part of me went with you

Now I smile no more

What have you done to me.

Thinking of your eyes

Still makes me cry

And those lovely moments

Ask if it all was a lie.

Now I walk alone

On the roads of life

I find no one else

To fill my heart’s void.

I feel unready

to find someone new

Just so that I don’t hurt her

As I’d hurt you.

It feels alone

I’m not used to this

Without you by my side

I have no shoulder to cry.

But I can’t call you back

I can’t find someone else

I don’t know how it’ll be

I can’t go on like this.

I am mush ashamed

for what I have done

but even you understand

my intents weren’t wrong.

I can neither go on

Nor can I stay

I can just lament

On the blunder I made.

Now I don’t find trust

Not even for myself

And all I ask you

Is pardon for me.

Please forgive me

And be my friend

Just as it used to be

We can have it you’ll see.

We’ll be back

Just as before

And be merry again

and be assertive of self.

And be not alone

We’ll be there

for one another

And we’ll be back

as we were before.

Be passionate again

and work wonders

‘cause only when we’re over grief

we can work our best.

Now I take thy leave

Saying all I had

Now I feel some burden

lifted from my back.

I bid you goodbye

Only to find you back

And I would love to see

You having gotten over me.

-          Vishal Gupta

Teardrops

Thinking of you, my mind goes numb

I can’t tell you what I feel

If you knew, what you mean to me

You could never be away free

I hide it all, keep it from you

I know not what should I do

But I can’t tell you, I cry for you

I just can’t be this true.

You make me smile, still I feel weak in my heart

and once you go all I’m left with

are teardrops on my guitar

are teardrops on my guitar

are teardrops on my guitar.

I stay awake, through the night

just hoping you’d call by

I could spend my life, trying to

just to see again you smile

I know there is, something wrong

I don’t know what is right

But in the crowd, when you smile and laugh

I know that is divine

I try to tell, what I feel for you

but words I cannot gather

and when I’m finally able to write, all I’m left with

are teardrops on my letter

are teardrops on my letter

are teardrops on my letter.

I feel some pain, I can’t explain

when you ask me to go away

Though I know, you mean it not

still it just rips me apart

If you knew, what I think of you

you would never say so again

but dear, for me only

I can’t see you change

So once again, I stay quiet

thinking of you, I cry

and what remains when I calm down

are teardrops by my side

are teardrops by my side

are teardrops by my side.

When I hurt you, I feel it too

but there’s nothing I can do

I never meant, to wound your heart

but now you’re feeling blue

I try to, but I can’t improve

I don’t wanna change you too

So you tell me, what should I do

when I can’t live without you

So whatever you say, I’m ready to do

as I know I can trust you

But if you go, you would never see

the teardrops you left me

the teardrops you left me

the teardrops you left me

Thinking of you, my mind goes numb

I can’t tell you what I feel

If you knew, what you mean to me

You could never be away free

I hide it all, keep it from you

I know not what should I do

But I can’t tell you, I cry for you

I just can’t be this true.

You make me smile, still I feel weak in my heart

and once you go all I’m left with

are teardrops on my guitar

are teardrops on my guitar

are teardrops on my guitar.

- Vishal Gupta

Aakriti

Here’s to my bestest friend. Aakriti Jain. J

Piyush

Here’s an ambigram dedicated to my dear friend Piyush. J

-          Vishal Gupta

The Warrior

Churned, hurt, wounded, crushed

he returned from the day’s battles

To take some rest and heal himself

before he’s called for the next day’s battle.

He lies on his back and watches the ceiling

his mind traumatised

too well aware of his being as a soldier

he has no thoughts nor feelings.

The black sky covers his coarse body

blackened by stains of mud and blood

The silent night makes no effort

to disrupt the blankness in his mind.

He feels a pain in his arm

and finds a trivial slice of metal

penetrated deep down into his flesh

Like a young ave hiding deep inside its nest

in absence of its parents

scared to look out to the harsh world

scared to open its eyes, and find its parents not there.

The warrior appreciates his reward for a moment

Then keeps his hand back down

“The pain will go soon,” he thinks

It pains him more to think it will.

He looks at his palm and closes his eyes

A single drop of tear leaves him

trickling down his face it gives him a shiver

Like trickled down once a finger from that palm

He wouldn’t have shed that precious drop had he been unaware

that what made him loose himself was fired by someone his own

A brutal error by a beloved comrade

To compensate his loss he was bequeathed

tears and empathy and pity and kindness

Each tear charred his soul

like acid mercilessly penetrating into the depths of metal

eating it as it proceeds

till the strong metal is burned and crushed

into a useless piece of scrap

of no value, of no use

till it is burned and moulded and cast again.

He doesn’t realise when the pain leaves his psyche

and a void again takes over

and again he hears the silence

before he’s called for the next day’s battle.

-          Vishal Gupta

June 22, 2010

Nomadic Existence - Part 6

MMM Hall of Residence. I’d been here many times but I never in my wildest dreams thought that I’d have to stay in this. There were no seniors here. No interaction with seniors. No wing culture. No late night parties. Just rooms. Scores and scores of rooms. It is the largest Hall in the campus with 800 rooms, i.e. capacity for 1600 students. The Hall is divided into four blocks each with 200 rooms equally divided in four floors. There are two messy messes, each for two blocks with the worst foos imaginable by the human brain. Some people disagree. They say normal human beings can’t even imagine the quality of the food served here. Nah, it was more like thatwe were served to the food. However, it all made MMM sound very organized.

It was not. Students were put there randomly and there were M.Tech students spread throughout. I wouldn’t have had a problem with this if there hadn’t been a ‘culture’ in MMM that undergraduates did not talk with postgraduate students and 25 year olds living in between 18 year olds did somehow prevent a ‘wing’ from forming. So people here interacted with each other less than that in my previous hall. Plus, there were no extra curricular events by the hall. In my previous hall there was so much to do that I would find myself running like Haile Gebrselassie throughout the day and here all people do except going to classes is… ummm… well there’s nothing exactly people do here! They live. And I was going to become one of them. Maybe. After going through the ways of Kharagpur last semester (with all my luggage that is) I’d learnt a very important lesson. And the song being played in the car can express it all in perfect words,

‘Hum hain is pal yahan. Jaane ho kal, kahan.’

The driver helped a lot in loading mine and Sagar’s stuff into the car. Most of the space was taken by the two mattresses we had. I wondered if I’d been insane to think that I found these to be small once upon a time. Then we had four big suitcases, two big bags and a lot of loose stuff like stationary, copies, calculators, extension cables, cell phone chargers, footwear, laundry bags, toiletries (including buckets), brooms, etc. We decided to get the room cleaned before shifting in and voila, when we opened the door we found that the room was already occupied by scores of extra pillows, mattresses, buckets, etc which the hall sells to new boarders. We had been ‘by mistake’ allotted that room. So after going through all the paperwork again we were given RR – 109. We got it cleaned and shifted in. Then I sent the driver back home. God! He’d helped us like a coolie. I immediately called up dad asking him if I should give something to him. When that was done I came back and started unpacking. I wanted to settle in as fast as possible as I hate to see things messed up and disorganized. After ten minutes when we closed the door we found that the almirah was locked. We went to the Hall office again and even they did not have the key to it. So we decided on breaking the lock and as soon as the lock was broken we saw a treasure of beer bottles and cigarette packets. The manager standing behind said an “OOPS” loud enough to make Sagar jump and quickly ran away. We were left standing there trying to understand what just happened. Another question on my mind was if the manager would let us keep the beer or would negotiate. Maybe the beer was his and he was scared because we had caught him. I wouldn’t have told anyone if he gave me a few bottles. But my fantasies were interrupted by his screeching voice, ‘Err boys, there has been a mistake. This room is already allotted to someone. They’re not back from the winter vacations yet. There is some problem with the computer. You boys have to shift to RR – 310.’

Silence. After 30 seconds of cold silence where I had closed my eyes counting numbers trying to calm down, I finally said, “But this is wrong. We have shifted here. There is too much stuff. We cant shift AGAIN.”

“But this room has already been allotted to someone else.”

“They can come back and go to RR – 310. There’s not much stuff they’d have to take from here. We’d have to shift with all this luggage you see here.”

“But they have been living here. It’s a computer fault. This room has not been allotted to you. I’ll send my boys to help you shift.”

After 15 minutes of bargaining we finally got our rights. The new room would be cleaned and our stuff would be shifted by the Hall within one hour. Still we had to be along with anyone taking our bags and we had to run up and down the stairs ten times before finally everything was done. I unpacked quickly. I had reached Kharagpur at 11 AM and now it was 6 when I finally had some rest. The room is good apart from a non functional tube light, a crow nest in the bathroom, a leaking tap and no friends. Still, I found the room better than any of the ones I’d previously been through. So I began a new semester in a new room waiting for the new year party. I don’t see any reason if by which I can be made to shift again but you never know. I’ve come to believe that living in IIT is quite similar to the nomadic culture. The only difference is that we use Gtalk instead of yelling YULULULU HU HA HE to communicate. You never know where you’ll be tomorrow.

Nomadic Existence - Part 5

What the Hell!


Why me. I’d had enough of trauma already. Shifting between cramped rooms. Do they realize I have to shift with all my stuff. From Bedding to pencil. Everything and if you reading there has never shifted with all your luggage, then you have no idea what it feels like. Specially if you do it yourself without those manly workers shown in cartoons. Now I had to shift to a wing with only few people I know. I had few options. I considered each.

• Nitin – Nah, he’s a drunkard. Cant have him coming back at night all drunk to irritate me.
• Utkarsh – Nice fella. But isn’t he gay?
• Sagar – Sabu. 6’5’’
• Tanmay – Nice guy apart from the fact he cant speak without slangs.

Ultimately I settled for Sagar, ‘cause he’s a nice guy plus he chose me and I thought its better to shift before he invites someone else. I took the decision. Sabu clearly stated he was not going to help me shift as he was ‘not well.’ So I shifted all by myself again. I’m getting good at this. This time I took only four hours. And there I was. B-104. My new adobe for the rest of my stay in this hall… hopefully.

Now this new roomie is cool. Is 6’5’’ tall but acts like a kid. He’s a tech freak, almost all IITians are which makes me feel they’re from a different planet, or maybe I am. Anyways he learnt it real fast that I really don’t care if google launched a new plugin by which I can see my emails on my mobile phone and he found this really odd. Almost all IITians found me odd in this respect. Like I had no ‘passion’ for new technology. Hell passion. These people don’t understand the difference between passion and frenzy. So here I was, sharing an internet connection with Sagar through a wi-fi network created by his computer. I thought I had a problem with a small bed. He used to sleep with his legs falling at the edge of my bed which was 3.5 feet away from his bed. Plus, the unbelievable feat – this 6’5’’ monster took a bath everyday. EVERYDAY. And people find ME odd! In case you don’t know, most IITians will not waste precious water in something insignificant as bathing. Twice a week bathing was found sufficient. Some people find that grouse. But when you have four bathrooms for fifty people sixty meters away from the room with damped walls, cold water whose color is anything but transparent and a variety of rare living creatures bathing with you which are found only in the intellectual environment of IIT, you don’t consider bathing as an everyday part of your IIT existence. But this guy, who could use the whole tank of the hall alone for bathing once; bathed everyday. No wonder we have water shortage here. But he was a good guy. He had made up all the patches on the door to our room by simple glue and did it all in one night. He had smuggled out an extra tube light for the room which came quite in handy when we needed to block the windows from opening as they had no hooks; and leaving them open would give the mosquitoes luxury of enjoying the ostentatious room we paid for. So there I was. Living with Sagar. Life was peaceful once more. Until, the inevitable happened.

…

It was a headache. I couldn’t take it anymore. After a heavy day of labs and classes, here I was trying to tell my roomie that I was least interested in knowing if Bill Gates had stolen all the ideas of Windows 7 from Apple. But it seemed like he had spent three hours collecting information and videos about Bill Gates’ perfidy and believed I had no right to breathe without knowing the ‘facts.’ I was a bit relieved when Tanmay came running to us. Due to public readership, I cant tell you his exact words. But between all the curses I just understood that there was a new notice which I should’ve seen by now. He was looking real worried and practically dragged us out of the room. Almost all the first years were standing near the notice board. I spotted it at the first sight.

“All first years are to be shifted to MMM Hall of Residence before the commencement of Spring semester 2009-10. All the keys of the rooms are to be given to the Warden before shifting and meals shall be provided in MMM Hall of Residence from the next semester.”

I was too shocked to think about my own feelings. I looked at Sagar instead. He stood as if he’d been slapped in the face. No reason stated. We had to shift and we could do nothing apart from shifting. Well, we could go on a hunger strike, or commit suicide, or make a rally or protest, but it’d be easier to plainly shift without speaking a word. So I went to the Warden of my Hall and spoke.

“What are the new room numbers?”

“That is a matter of concern of MMM. Go there and ask.”

That was done. Now I had to go to MMM. I had avoided it once but as they say, bad luck is like a importunate unsolicited guest and if that was too much English for you then understand that bad luck is just like the HMC, which won’t leave any chance of tormenting the students. But there was nothing I could do about it and I was getting used to this shifting business. Yes, I was hurt, but that doesn’t matter to the people who matter. I’d worked for this Hall, participated in events, people recognized me from the Hall and I was having a great time here. Well, no use ranting over what’s gone. When a bird pisses over you, you don’t go to sue the bird. You curse it and run to wash yourself and move ahead. I too had to move ahead. So I had two more weeks and then my winter vacations would start.

The new semester began on 30^th December and I had to shift before that. After much thinking I decided to comeback and then shift. Having my home in Kolkata I could bring my car along for a day and it’d be helpful when I’d have to shift to a hall around a kilometer away. Now just one kilometer may not sound that much but when you are taking everything from your bedding to your alarm clock along, you cant do it on foot. Somehow the HMC believed that relocating was a part of everyday life of IITians and we’d be more than glad to experience it every chance we got. So at the end of the semester in November, I packed my bags, left some at my Hall (if I could still call it mine that is) and took some home.