Works of RK

I came across something interesting on TV early in the morning. The swami who was preaching from the verses of the Bhagwat Gita closed his sermon wishing all viewers merry Christmas. He did not stop at that, he went on to compare the lives of Krishna and Jesus and drew some interesting parallels. Here are some of them that were  particularly thought provoking: Popular figures of their times: Both Jesus and Krishna were loved by the common man on the street. One was the hero of the fisher folks the other the lord of hearts of the ordinary residents of Mathura, a town in ancient Gujarat.  Immaculate Conception: Though separated by atleast 7000 years by birth, both of them are known to have had an extra ordinary birth. While Baby Krishna escaped the wrath of Kamsa to live another day, infant Jesus escaped the king's soldiers just the same. Men of Miracles: Both were capable of miracles. While Krishna was widely accepted as incarnation of Vishnu and worshiped even when alive, the follo

When you stress the line that holds you down, pull on the Chakri so that you can fly some more, I guess it is time to set you free. When you fly high, you see more of the universe of which I am but a part. Down on land, closer to me, I fill your world, take too much space. Up high in the sky, far away from me, you have a better perspective of where I stand, vis-à-vis the whole wide world. It is exhilarating to set you in flight. The struggle to lend wings to your flight, fight notoriously shy winds of desire and set you high, makes me feel young and alive again. You bring to life the child in me. Now that you are but a distant speck, a tension on the line, the force that pulls the Chakri that I struggle to hold on to, I do not feel all that young anymore. The power of your bright beautiful wonderful flight strains my hands, twangs the twines of life connecting us. You are now too far up in the sky for me to see, I think It is time to set you free. Free to drift with the crazy winds of

You would not see the light years I have waited for a call from you. You would not hear the overpowering noise of those hours and days and weeks of silences, that passes by before you connect. I dread your next call, for once it is done, and you have said your bye ji, the cycle of waiting would begin all over again.  Overtime, I have fallen in love with my silences. They are predictable and provide a sense of soothing continuum. Each day runs into other and nothing untoward happens. I am learning to love the shades of black, I love innovating the notes of my silences. They don’t sing as well as you do... as yet, they are not as engaging as you are. Increasingly, you are the distraction that is ruining my routine. You are the strangeness in an otherwise peaceful life. One of these days, I might decide to exorcise thee! Rajesh

Some images are disconcerting. The image of a train running out of a tunnel into the waiting night is one such image. Some of my oldest memories are memories from Train journeys. The incessant clatter of iron wheels on iron tracks used to drum up sad thoughts in me. I have often wondered how loco pilots would feel inside goods trains on moonless nights. The only things that they would see are railway tracks, everything else will be pale blue, black and gloomy. My life these days are quite similar. I peer into the darkness lit by little lights that my loved ones have left behind. All I see is an endless row of fishplates and railway tracks. The stations on the way are mere distractions, some day I need to unload, unwind. Someday I need to stop this speed. Someday will be my last day, some journey, my last errand to run. Some day I will pull into a station... never to leave. In my journey tearing through the darkness of my life, I am guided by the Spirits and also by the memories of wond

I knew that someday you would not be around all the time. I knew that someday the winds will stop blowing your fragrance my way. I knew this and still I dreaded the silences that were to follow the storm you whipped up in my life. A knock on the door changed everything. Now I need not be worried that I will remember you too often... I will never forget you :) Most relationships are accommodating in nature. I am included in your scheme of things, but I am seldom the universe around which you plan your things. Such relationships are what I call accommodating. "I will be in that part of the town tomorrow...shall we meet up?" is an example. Very few relationships are inclusive in nature. When you felt like meeting me, you planned your universe around me, you made me feel very important. You made me believe that for a moment, I was the centre of your universe. I have seldom been made to feel this way. Thank you.

A year of silences were dispelled over a couple of words on Chat.  I have no clue what I have missed out, I do not know of how much trouble, or how much love I missed out in these 365 days. All I know is that I suddenly have an open line again. Memories of the din and buzzle of Hyderabad haunt me again. All the places, all those movies, and the nights our dining together, all these little things, I miss them again. Thank you for some Springtime bloom amidst Autumn gloom. Rajesh

All is well until I hold you in my hands. Even as time stands still with baited breaths waiting for those postcard moment of life to be delivered, my own thoughts are far from you. The fear of what a hug would do to you keeps me from hugging you. The fear of how you would react to a touch, a feel a kiss keeps me from touching you feeling you kissing you. The times that I have lived have been longer than those of others, the thoughts that shape me are as old as myself, the fears that haunt me today; have walked with through all my lonely trecks. It suddenly seems that we two, we are at two disparate ends of an otherwise not so interesting life, I roll back my longings, pack my bags of desire... and walk on. With me walks an alluring sense of disconnect. Rajesh