Spring-time Rains

"And when it rains as thus in the Spring, the bountiful boughs, in gratitude, shower their flowers and the moistening earth, in joy, exudes petrichor!"

The Campus looks enlivened again today! It is the season of Spring and the flowering trees have been holding beautiful inflorescence, like an adornment embellishing their curvy branches and bark. Until yesterday, the flowers reigned bright and ebullient, bathed by the ample sunlight and constantly pecked by the overjoyed songbirds of the Spring. The abundance of the flower laden trees and the joyous Spring-time displays mellowed the harshness of the heat. The floral aroma of different kinds mixed in the sultry hot air of March and April and made a campus walk enjoyable even on a hot afternoon.

The one thing missing was the coolness of the campus air. And the Spring-time rains came down and brought with them all that coolness and a lot more

*********

Spring-time rains, in the campus lanes
Tap a little tune, on my window panes

They gather some grey, on a dusky day
And cast a cuddly cheer, on my curling way

The flowers on show, on the big burly bough
Fall and float with glee, down as they go

Sieving through the leaves, the frivolous weaves
A spell of jaunty love, of the smitten and the thieves

This flirty stealing breeze, swirls with lovely ease
To kiss and pluck the flowers, and sway them in its seize

Such flowers of Spring, sheathe with zesty zing
The soil with hues and nectar, as the passerines sing
  
The gushing gust, girdles with lust
The girth of the trunk, that catches it first

Feathery floating pods, with wings or curly cords
Swing in tizzy turns, when the wind so wily prods

Drops skim the cheeks, when the canopy leafy leaks
Swinging with the singing gale, the eager branch now creaks 

Twigs tiny tumble, bigger branches bumble,
Dancing on the roof, slump down and they crumble

Misty air settles, Midst the freshly bathed petals
Joy flows in crazy musings, and steaming hot kettles

Spring-time rainy days, of fragrance and lovely haze
Of songs and silly laughter, and walks on campus ways


Vindy
12 April 2015

Blue spillage!

I still feel like going berserk again, like we did day before yesterday, to scream and jump with joy with no one and nothing to stop us! So satisfying has been the coveted win that the mind refuses to stop smiling with gratitude and happiness. And so everything around feels so jubilant and colourful and wonderful and everything to feel happy about!

Add to that the festive occasion of the new-year, home-made sweets, festival feast and the start of spring, and one surely has a treasure trove of fun and happiness. In such a joyous mood, I picked up an 'unused from 1988' pack of oil-colour tubes and decided to paint anything that came to my mind. Since it was the first time I was using oil as the medium, I didn't know (and still don't know) the technicalities/techniques involved and decided to do it just with my fingers. I certainly felt a kid-like joy doing this painting :D

Splash all the hues! And Bring on the Blue!

-Vindy

कल का बादल

कल का बादल पागल था ॥

जो राह फिसलकर फैला था

वो, कल का बादल, पागल था ॥

न पछिम दिसा का था वो छेहरा,

न रंग था भूरा, नीला गहरा ।

छाया था हलके पंख पसारे,

उतरा था जिनपर रंग सुनहरा ।

फिर जाने क्या सोचकर बरसा था!

कल का बादल पागल था ॥

कलियाँ शाखोँ पर रुकी हैं सारी,

मदन बसंत की राह निहारी ।

यह आम्रतरु पर पुष्प देख री,

लाल और पीले, हरित, केसरी ।

इनमें नन्हे नवस्वप्न संजोए,

हैं बीज धरे, पर अभी न बोए ।

और कल का बादल अंजान बावरा,

जगा गया, जो अभी थे सोए ।

क्या दिन हैं, और क्या मौसम है, क्या उसको ये मालूम न था?

कल का बादल पागल था ॥

छाँव में घास पे हम थे लेटे,

मध्यान्ह की मंदी, सुस्ती को लपेटे ।

बार्बेट की खूंटि दूर निरंतर,

बिल्ली थी सोई खुद को समेटे ।

डोरी पर कपड़े बस सूखे ही थे,

हल से खुले बैल बस बैठे ही थे ।

बाज़ार में वार के, लेने तरकारी,

भैया भी, बस यूँ, निकले ही थे ।

तब आया बादल बिना बताकर,

धो गया वो सबको लड़ी लुटाकर ।

न चमका था, न गरजा था, बस बूँदोँ में वो टपका था

कल का बादल पागल था ॥

अब बरसा है, तब भूलेगा,

जून की मास में मन तोलेगा ।

'अब आएगा? कब आएगा?'

नभ में अटका दिल बोलेगा ।

फिर आएगा वो, जल से मन हरने,

इन खेतोँ पर कुछ मास ठहरने ।

सच पूछो तो, मृद्गंध उठाता, कल का बादल भी भाया था

एक प्रीतलहर बरसाता यूँ ही, कल का बादल पागल था ॥

कल का बादल पागल था ॥

- विन्डी

On The Go...

(Sometime around the end of Sharad rutu, early Dec 2009)

Early mornings, now-a-days, are slightly chilly, as if the waiting winter were slowly crawling upon me. With the weather Gods going crazy and all confused this season, winter seems to have resolved to put things back into their place and restore the familiar order in earnest. And so, with no more surprises expected and as a meek acknowledgement to the increasing cold, my reluctance at shedding my blanket and shrug out of my bed has increased in proportion; with that the repeated attempts of my mother to wake me up and get me moving and to my office; and so have come out my sweaters and the black Peter England coat. The winter giggles all along at me as I finally manage to hit the pedal. Me and my poor friend, who must have bore the cold brunt all night in the open, set about gulping distances by circumferences.

My friend is sent through violent shocks and jerks by the few metres of kuchcha road, and so am I with him; awaking both of us from the stiffness and dullness of the incomplete slumber. The landscape plummets down in front of us pulling down with it the quiet houses and farms, before the mountains far away lift it up towards the sky. They aren't very far away though, what with they almost filling up your sight and their essence percolating through your senses and soul. They surely do strike a pleasant, magical chord, almost enthusing a gladdening, familiar scent of the mountains all around you and within you. The winter, however, has played a beautiful trick on these harmless humps on the earth. It has brought all its mist clogging down, thick and dense, under the mountains to stay there, such that one can't see through them. The mighty mountains, as a result, appear to have been lifted nonchalantly up by the indolent congregation of the dense mass of vapour. It looks enchanting, I tell you. The sun's slowly peeking above the horizon, almost with a yawn, sending down warm rays to mix with and glisten the white mass of mist. If only I had my camera with me! Where, however, would I capture the smell and the cold feel of the winter that's tingling its way through me, perching on my nosetip, sprawling on my ears and setting into my eyes?

I pedal further down the now smooth road, breezing down the straights and around the bends. My numb fingers try to control my overjoyed friend. He is sprinting across, ignoring the undulations on tar. His bell calls are met with happy responses from his chums; the sparrows, bulbuls, mynas, crows, munias, shrikes and others and that's the cause of his joy. We pass the Krishna temple smiling our greetings to him. He smiles back at us, serene and healing as ever.

At the station, I bid a goodbye to my friend, promising to return at dark. I am amongst people now; my kind. The early morning crowd includes many youngsters, high-school students to college going teenagers. Everybody is geared up for the cold weather. From rural folks in plain dhoti and stained shirts to milk vendors and vegetable vendors with their huge cans and baskets to office going people like me to the teenagers, the station is buzz with activity and conversations. Herds are what I feel I am seeing along the length of the station and the faces wearing multitudes of emotion appear like ruminating on the daily dose of conversation and gossip. The newspaper guy is in the thick of action and everybody's more than eager to grab his/her copy. I always walk half the platform towards the far end to climb the train there. There's no reason for that, just a preference. I have a few minutes before the local train would arrive allowing me to take an easy stroll across the platform in my comfortable canvas pair.

My hand brushes my warm coat at its sides as I walk. I try to keep my head steady, but my fickle, flickering eyes give away my curiosity. I can't help but notice the girls whispering to each other. I cast a glance on the group and my eyes are held captive by a complimenting pair, pure, black and mesmerizing (as Onkar says, I think in my mind :-)). What follows is a strange status quo as far as expressions on both the faces are concerned as against a distracting and confusing hustle inside, behind the falsely held expressions. Both the individuals stuck in the deadlock become exceedingly wary of every movement and each sinew asks permissions before it can twitch. Intervened by a conscious mind now, my involuntary walking and poise suddenly assume proportions of a foreground process requiring extensive-complex-real time-stimuli based-decision making algorithms. Where the conscious mind sets in, I lose the fluidity of my sub-conscious self. She follows suit and her posture stiffens laying bare her own susceptible processes which have evidently gone awry by a little disturbance. Until my friend, ‘inertia’, thankfully carries me ahead and beyond the threshold distance disengaging the bond, we both go through a strange metastable state in our minds which can neither be defined as outright enjoyable nor as entirely uneasy. The effect sweeps across the group. Every individual goes through the brief wave trying to win attention and pleasantly sail with the occasion if it happens. Depending on various sensory parameters (primarily audio-visual) and their weights in position and time, any two individuals may get connected or there might be a sequence of multiple short connections. Let me accept that this is indeed a natural sociological behaviour in animals and the aforesaid events and effects form the normal protocol in mortal beings like me. Anyway, the point is that you feel for it. It is almost like an instinct driven by the irresistible laws of attraction and which renders every post-adolescence individual predictable and helpless in such situations. It pleases the heart and rides the mind and there’s not much one can do about it except wait for time to take care of and tone down this instinct, if it ever does. Besides, since I am no Yogi, I often follow the ritual and enjoy the uneasy transients and muse in the pleasant feelings that blot my heart as the experience trails. And so, I do the ritual today again. And boy! Am I not pleased! She looks beautiful, doesn’t she!

- Vindy :)

एक विश्व!

परवा गौरव आणि सम्पन्नशी बोलतांना एका जुन्या रचनेची आठवण झाली. IISc , CEDTत असतांना बरेच nightouts व्हायचे. तशाच एका nightout नंतर मजा म्हणून काही ओळी लिहिल्या होत्या. आज घरी शोधल्यावर एका वहीत ती रचना लिहिलेली सापडली. एक timepass आठवण म्हणून इथे post करतो. :D 

एक विश्व!

Lab च्या एका खुर्चीवर, दमून थकून बसतांना
समोरच्या लाकडी कुशीवर, डोकं माझं तेकावतांना
सकाळचे, किमान ४-५ तरी, वाजले असतात जेव्हा 
निर्जीव सारे जिवंत, lab मध्ये होतात तेव्हा.


का नावडतो तुला तो transistor ?
तीन पायांवर एक छोटासा घर!
त्या घरात राहतात लोक अनेक
current लागल्यावर पळतात सगले, न दोन न एक!
धमाल उड़ते सगल्यांची तेव्हा, चांगलीच!
कामी येतो transistor, असो amplifier किंवा switch
पण त्यात पण त्यांचे प्रकार किती! बाप रे बाप!
लक्षात ठेवतांना वाटतं, 'डोक्याला नुसता ताप!'
"काय करायचे रे दादा?", विचारतात ते मलाच 
circuit चालायला लागल्यावर, प्रत्येक transistor वाटतो अगदी आपलाच!
त्या transistorच्या आत सुद्धा आहेत बरेच fundae ,
काम न धंदे, कुठून येतात असले बन्दे!


आधी वाटायचं ...
काही railway stations अच् फ़क्त, junctions असतात
हे ऐकून transistorच्या आतले, रहिवाशी हसतात 
ते म्हणतात,
"आमच्यात पण junctions p-n म्हणून असतात,
ज्या दारांमुले, घरातल्या खोलीत लोक अडकतात.
मग voltage दादा आल्यावर हे दार उघडतात
हसत, खेळत, एका खोलीतनं दूसर्या खोलीत,
लोक नव्या जोमाने फिरतात..."


मला तर वाटतं,
junctionच्या दोन बाजुला शेत आहेत दोन
जणू एका boundaryच्या प्रत्येक बाजूला, एक वेगलाच zone 
एका शेतात सूर्यफुले उगवली आहेत,
तर काल्पनिक चंद्रफुले आहेत दूसर्या बागेत
दोन्ही कढची फुलं, इकडे तिकडे बघत असतात
आतुरतेने सूर्याची व चंद्राची वाट पाहत असतात
जेव्हा सूर्य नी चन्द्र, पलिकडच्या शेतावर उगवतात 
सगळी फुलं त्या त्या दिशेला फिरून,
वेड्यासारखी पलायला लागतात!
डोळ्यांसमोर हे दृश्य जेव्हा मी बघत बसतो,
मनातल्या मनात मी, मजेत मस्त हसतो!

ह्या एक-एका घराने बनतात, 
अनेक societies, colonies आणि शहर 
ICs मध्ये तर ह्यांच्या संख्येचा होतो नुसता कहर
मग development boards सारे civilizations सारखे दिसतात 
पार आकाशातून काढलेल्या, satellite images सारखे भासतात 
मग त्या शहरात सुद्धा असतीलच की, आपल्या सारखे institutes ! 
तेथे पण मुलांना मिळत असतील, असंख्य assignments आणि tuts !
memories मध्ये तयार होऊन मुलं बसत असतील
आपली संधि कधी येते, ह्याची वाट पाहत असतील
processor मग बोलावणार प्रत्येकाला अधून मधून 
"मला job लागला रे लागला!", सांगत असतील ते नाचून!
Buses असतील शहरात, इकडून तिकडे जायला 
त्यांत पण solid गर्दी, होत असेल, चमायला!
आणि जातांना कोणाचा धक्का लागलाच जर चुकून,
की म्हणत असतील, "मेल्या! का येतोस मरायला!"
processor आणि memory सवाल fastest !
आणि रस्ते सुद्धा रुंद, सरळ आणि BEST !
Controllers असतील अनेक तिथल्या सरकारच्या under  
एकही बंद पडला, की समझा झालाच blunder 
आत बाहेर करायला, असतील ports चारीकडे
मग जहाजातन जातील लोक peripheralsकडे
ह्या शरात सुद्धा असतील mafias and thugs !
ज्यांना लोक म्हणत असतील viruses and bugs  
Debugger ने त्यांना काढल्यावर मग
आपली पूजा करत असेल, तिथला सारा जग!


आपलं पण जग, देवाला असच दिसत असेल
जेव्हा आपल्यासारखा nightout तो पण मारत असेल...


-Vindy

(व्याकरण चुकल्यास आणि typos बद्दल क्षमस्व :) )

Heeeehaaaaaaa

Heeeeehaaaaaaaa...I am back! Back to blogging! And back with a renewed soul in me for having hauled myselves over the few months of redemption, reconciliation, of some serious work to do justice to my degree...and yes I feel like screaming my throats out...heeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

Okay, it is not as if I have worked and only worked over the last 3-4 months. I have just restrained myself from posting stuffs on my blog to avoid the formatting hassles and the post-blogpost (haaa...nice term! :-) ) curiosity to know the reactions.

Anyway, so of the numerous crazy things I have done over the past few months, one was to compose a bandish (if I may call it so :P) myself!! (God Damn-it!) And since I realize, after some research, that audio files can be added to a post, I wish to post about it. So here goes the tale....

One fine day, I heard that our mess was going to be kept closed for a day. That was the next day. So come the next morning, I did not feel like getting out of my bed since there was no incentive to do so. I ignored all the alarms and kept myselves buried under wraps for as long as I could. When, finally, my eyes could no more ignore the glaring sunlight outside and my eyelids started begging to be released open, I crawled lazily out of my bed. I switched on my laptop and let it play the soothing notes of tanpura. With the notes melting nicely into the sunlit room, I naturally felt like whetting my singing skills by having a session of hindustani classical jamming. I don't remember which raaga I picked on and for how long, but, the point of importance is that the musical mood carried over from that short session to my bathroom. So there I was, having a lazy, hour long bath and exploring all the singing possibilities within my capability. The restroom exhaust fan was providing a constant drone to give me the reference scale and a good support for my vocals. I started drifting into some known raga and started weaving words around it to depict the ongoing mood. The bandish that resulted is scripted below, followed by the audio file. To call it a bandish is purely a personal convenience [:P] although it may technically be nowhere near a bandish. Whether the bandish is in Raaga Vachaspati, or Raaga Jaijaiwanti, or any other or none in particular is left to the decision of the experts on this topic. For others like me, I hope this composition brings many a laughs and fun to you.

The Bandish:

aaj mess band
kuch nahi milega khane ko

fal aaj khaaun madhuban ke
piya sang mein rijhaaun mein gaaun
fulban mein chaaun raspaan mei mein madhuup
mess ke bina mein dar dar jaaun

The audio file:



http://www.mediafire.com/?n2bw1m0mxbn