There is more to me, surely

Two blinking black eyes that see the light,

Is that all I am? I see, I hear, I smell, I touch.
Surely, there is more to me than that.
If not, why am I not the set of eyes
gaping beside me, same as such.

I see two arms stretching out to hold,
Gazing down, supporting legs, feet cold;
Now, here is a not so amusing riddle. Try!
Hands draw warmth yet you catch cold;
Cold feet leads to temperatures running high.
Mysteries are one too many, yet the one
I pursue - Surely, there is more to me than that.

It is clear to me now that I have a shape,
I wrap my skin over my bones like a drape.
I have organs and blood to support my life
But I am one in many; about that there is no strife.
Surely, there is more to me than that.

I have lived at places, settlements of like bodied,
Hopping from one to another, gathering threads
Of memory; I like some of those, some I dread.
Gaining ground, I am partly defined by the path I led.
Surely, there is still more to me than that.

Looks like I have made connections, associations really,
People have loved me completely and despised me cruelly.
Some were left behind to be missed and some forgotten.
Parts of me and always would be, making me who I am,
Hard to explain but still there is more to me than that.

My mind produced questions, simply complex to some,
wrapped up with entangled ease for some others.
I answered or at least tried to find some answers;
Sometimes there were poor decisions ;
And pretty far from good weathers.

All my questions and their answers,
my decisions and consequences -
formed the part of a puzzle that is me.
I am not sure now but it seems like
There is still more to me.

Can you give me 100 Rupees?

When I was a kid, I used to be very sympathetic towards people who would come asking for money or alms. These people are everywhere yet so inconspicuous.  You could find them very easily on roadside , at traffic signals, markets, temple premises etc.  My heart always went out to them. As a kid, I had very idealistic thoughts about helping them. I held the view that every able person should aid people who aren't so fortunate.  My impressionable mind formed simple opinions of their own. I always related honesty with desperation and need. I judged people by the disposition of their clothes and their state . If a person was poor, in need , he had to be simple  and honest, and a influential, well-to-do someone who would just ignore these people and go about doing their work were attributed a negative quality. 

I remember an incident during my childhood days, a far cry from an anecdote but I would still like to use it as one. I was probably studying in 4th or 5th standard and it was one of those quarterly parent-teacher meetings, I had to attend. I used to be a good student and hence, this wasn't much of an issue for me. My mom and I were returning back on a rickshaw from the meeting when suddenly a very distraught looking person came up to us, asking for some money to buy some food. My mother, not in a very pleasant mood and probably because of me, turned him away saying that - "Abhi thodi der pehle hi diya tha kisiko." Now, this was something my ideologies at that time wouldn' t permit. Firstly, it was a pure lie and secondly, even if something was given to someone, how would this guy benefit from that? This escaped my logical faculties.  So, in all, what could only be called stupid innocence, I blurted out at that very moment, "Kahan diya tha, ma?"  This resulted in two things, a sort of embarrassment for my mom and a easily earned hard glare for me. 

This incident is a distant memory now and is recalled only sometimes by my parents when they go into flashback mode of my brother's and my childhood. This story, however, does show how deeply I felt regarding this. I always felt sad and helpless whenever I used to see them. With time, my thoughts matured and so did my understanding of the world but this, more or less, remained the same. I still felt for these people. Even while I was a student of engineering, I always used to give more than people would normally do and irrespective of whoever was asking. People used to advice me against this for it was difficult to identify posers from the real and want from deceit but I always brushed such advice aside.  Little did I know, that my belief would soon be shaken to the core. 

I was coming back from home after one of my vacations and just got out of the Lingampalli station ( a local train station in Hyderabad ) and was about to call for an auto when a gentleman walked upto me and politely asked for some of my time. He was dressed in proper, if not very well-to-do clothes and did not look like someone who would need to beg. I asked him about his problem and he pointed towards a group of people, a lady in saree and a couple of small kids. He told me that he had come to Hyderabad from some nearby local town in search of some promised work and had managed to lose all his money. He had nothing left to go back to his native place and would be grateful if I could help him out. I was skeptical and probed him a little more. He gave me quite convincing answers. Even though I was a little reluctant, I offered to buy him tickets to his place. He seemed to be taken a little aback but then quickly agreed. After I bought him tickets, he started thanking me profusely. I acknowledged and was about to leave when he again came up to me and with all sincerity asked me for some money for food. Now, I was not very sure but eventually gave him some more money.  As I was returning back, I felt very satisfied and content with myself. It was the feeling of having made a difference, even if it wasn't very significant. Normal life resumed and I got involved in the regulars of my college life.  After a week of my return, I had to go to the Lingampalli area on account of some work. As I was standing at one of the shops, I noticed a familiar face which eluded recognition. I pressed on my memory a bit and remembered him to be the same fellow whom I had helped at the station. I thought of walking up to him and inquiring about his stay. Before I could do that, a piece of his conversation with his companion made it to my ears and it was as if somebody had beaten the drum right next to my face. I don't remember the exact words but they were talking about some work near station and then it suddenly dawned on me. I could see the dots connecting and I was infuriated at the thought of this guy conning people using the mask of need and desperation. Then my anger gave way to self criticizing scorn. I should have known better. Anyways, there was no use of confronting him. Even if I was to do that, I doubt he will stop cheating people. 

On my way back home, I kept thinking about my outlook towards such people. I have always made a black and white judgement about such people. Now, some questions were raised against my simple beliefs. I wasn't very sure anymore about treating every poor and needy person with benevolence. A sense of reluctance was introduced. I know that this is not justified and I cannot judge a whole bunch of people based on the actions of few but then again, my initial opinion was itself a formulation based on a select few people I had encountered in my life. How do I differentiate between sincere and miscreants? I won't say that the incident changed me completely but it did modify my approach. There was one more incident, not very long ago, which again was on a similar standing but leading to a  different experience.  I was returning after a late-night dinner, with my flatmate, on his bike. We were stopped by a guy on the way. He told that he was stranded on his way back home as he somehow managed to lose his wallet and had run out of petrol. There was a petrol station round the corner but he did not have the money and he cannot leave his bike on the road. Both, my friend and I, were quite unsure. The guy also produced some IDs to further justify his authenticity but then in India, it is not very difficult to forge a bunch of documents, is it? We were still skeptical but after the guy's constant pleading, we gave him a 100R note. He was thankful and asked for our phone number. We were quite puzzled before he explained that he wished to return the money through recharging our phones. My flatmate give his number and we made our way back home, quite sure that the money was just a lost cause if the guy was faking. After a few days, I asked my flatmate about it and I was very surprised, to the extent of not believing it, to find that the recharge was made the very next day. 

The incident was a sort of reinforcer of my thoughts. Not everywhere is it possible to check the IDs or to verify the claim of someone but it sure is possible to trust yourself to do the right thing. It is still worth to help people on every chance you get even if you end up on the wrong boat from time to time. With the same thing in my mind, I helped a family yesterday, making a similar claim. I gave them enough money to go back and have some food. I do not know if I was conned or they really did need the money but I do know that I am not in doubt anymore about doing the right thing. I can afford to give 100 Rupees, can you? 

Rhymes of the heart

Every morning wishes to be as beautiful as you are,
Making me wonder why am I so far.
if only, every day started with your embrace,
it would make a lovely sight for the sun to gaze.


_______________________________________________________________


Imagining you, I feel an unfelt twinge in my heart,
A moon in an endless ocean of the starry cart.
If I had just enough breath to speak to you,
It would be spent saying -"I want to be with you.

Blue fragrance of the wind

Life is dramatically beautiful, full of surprises.

Not so good times seem lovely, cherished moments are a crisis.

Suffering with penance and yet it is its own reward,

Unlikely bonds are formed, broken on their own accord.

Flowing vigorously, unattached, unbound,

I am the wind, raging skies, burning ground.

In all my grandeur, blazing with glory high,

Essence for the world, stumbling in its own drought with a sigh.

Belief shaken and narrating a story without credence,

Time seems to waddle away without any consequence.

Comes a twist in the tale, arises a fragrance.

As to stir my sleeping soul, life throws in a pence.

Wary of the change, resisting the temptation to relent,

All the years of belied comprehension, I knew not what this meant.

Senses came alive; gait springy with an unprecedented glee,

Which was very odd as I was a feetless wind, you see?

"Hey, Glad to meet you." - was all I could stutter.

She smiled a radiant rainbow, which made me flutter.

Which was again very odd as I did not have any wings,

Is this soft music I hear, or the bells of insanity rings

From far, she emits a radiance of a most gentle dove,

Deep within she shows character, rock solid and tough.

Think of her as just a fragrance, sweet and amazing

And be prepared to be startled, conquered and left dazing.

Flowing as if she didn't care what the world thought,

Looking at her, I wondered whether she was the prize I sought.

Something attracted me towards her. Was it the sadness within?

Probably it is what formed her strength to endure with a grin. 

She looks towards me, asked me if I would rather dare?

Seeing me befuddled, she smiled and pointed me to a stair.

Now, I travelled my whole life, far away lands and seas, my mates.

I never came across these bloody stairs leading to unknown gates. 

Curiosity pushing me with full intensity, I climbed

Steps that twirled, twisted, rotated and got intertwined.

The arduous ascent challenged my wilful flows 

Crushing gravity, reluctance adding to my woes

And then it was all gone, a momentary black flash of nothing. 

Slowly light spread from a tiny casket,  invisible weights fading.

I saw the fragrance standing besides me, a pure shade of blue

She placed my hand over the casket; I then realized what was really true.

The fragrance is gone, but she still lingers in my every breath.

She liberated me from my own shackles, imposed as death

Of my true being, which was just a hand across the fence,

All I needed was to find my own fragrance.