What a Bitch of a Day?

As we see the fires blaze through the Taj Mahal hotel, newspaper reporters accumulate information and pass it through various media and the horrors/sadness of what has taken place in the high octane city of Mumbai, I wonder about the aftermath of this tragic episode. The question of terrorism – the view of one set of minds and so called freedom fighters in another set of minds seems to be the greatest dilemma in the 21st century. The question is “why” – why are there these different set of minds, what causes boys in their prime teens to take to guns, why do we have such tragic moments and why do we never come together to compromise on a solution. As a citizen of Sri Lanka, I have seen my cities blaze many a times and it continues to do so. From Jaffna to Colombo, we have seen tragic deaths, continuous fighting and no solution in sight. Why does this happen? Can we not shed our pride and come together for a common solution? As i wonder about the LTTE and the current Sri Lankan goverment take on each other, I wonder whether such a incident would take place between the Indian government and another entity – whether its in the form of Pakistan, Kashmir militants or internal indigenous terrorists. Or would this turn into a communal fighting that would lead to more escalation of terror, deaths and loss of every value of being human. Deepak Chopra on CNN came out and said that maybe it is time to figure out the roots of these issues instead of creating the backlash that might provoke more terror. The simple theory behind this is “tit for tat” If a young boy saw his father die in the Mumbai blasts – how would he react to anyone who is blamed for these blasts. How would the young girl in Kashmir react to the deaths of her parents through bombs from government forces? The aftermath scenarios at least in such circumstances seem to be very similar.

I am not sure what is going to happen after this tragic episode – but all I can hope for is that communities come together – whether they are Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jewish or of any other faith, ethnicity or background. I can continue to only pray for such hopes.

http://search.twitter.com/search?max_id=1027240098&page=2&q=+%23mumbai

Mumbai Under Seige

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/asiapcf/11/26/india.attacks/index.html

http://ibnlive.in.com/videos/video_streaming.php

Live streaming of events unfolding in Mumbai

A million words would not be able to describe,

How I feel about you at times…

A million years pass by and I hope I feel,

Just the same way when I dream of those beautiful eyes…

A hundred thousand women would walk on this earth,

Yet right now I feel that you are the prettiest in my world…

A hundred thousand times I would wonder what you think,

I doubt you will tell me, but I hope that some day you will…

A thousand times you would ask me not to think about you,

Every day goes by, and I wake up with what I thought last night,

And that’s you…

A thousand cruel words you might say and a thousand more,

So that you make sure you are clear,

But that sweet word I long for will vanish those thousand away…

A hundred breaths I would take to slow my beating heart,

Yet even on the slowest beat, I can hear it – your whisper, my love …

A hundred reasons you might give to stop me from courting you,

Yet I have a billion more to say, to stay with this feeling so true…

One second goes by; I am stilling thinking of you …

One more word and I feel like a life time is through …

One call in the morning and this life’s worth has been fulfilled and true …

One day, I hope you feel the same way as I do about you …

You wake with hope, an idea of ecstasy to fill the air,
the long for belonging and to be belonged,
to know that nothing can happen to ever bring you down,
to feel that nothing could ever hurt you.

You wake up with a sense, it vibrates like no other,
smell, touch, taste, hear but not see,
but seeing is worth a thousand battles, and
maybe one day I would wake up to admire the splendor.

You wake up with tranquility, a peace of mind you never had before,
that you could remove all the worlds’ burdens from your chest,
just so that she can lie on it freely,
passionate and dreaming about whether I can care about anything else.

I woke up today,
Born again by feeling, that I can never control,
A hole that I had felt long ago, one that I patched and one that is worn,
Yet even if it opens up, I hope to wake up again and I hope the feeling,

Is not yet gone…..

Heart pounding, dimensions of the world unknown, he sat and waited patiently in a car he had only dreamt of never driving – a Toyota hybrid. The iphone sat next to him quietly and he wished it would shout out, so that he knew her presence was near. It was his dear friend though, because he rarely met her and it made sure that he could hear her voice loud and clear. AT & T’s new city was called Housportfrancolbai and it served its purpose. Looking behind, he saw the red symbol of his honest feeling, residing peacefully, waiting for its owner to whisk it away. He felt and hoped that the single sign would be enough to make her understand his true intentions, in its purest and meaningful form. “Can you ask a rose to do anything more?”, he thought to himself. Maybe, he chuckled to himself, he could ask it to never fade away, and then reflected again on his cheesy thought. Seconds seemed like years, and the usual vibrant, always on the run fool, was sitting patiently.

The strumming voice of the iPhone echoed out in the small car and he picked it up as it were pure gold about to melt in his hands and he had the sole power to save it. Responding quickly, he shifted gears and made way to the arrival lounge of the airport, in eager, earnest and his hands sweating. Swirling his head around, he looked for as if he had lost the most precious object in his life, and being in the smallest car in the world didn’t help his cause. After the quickest 4 minutes in the world, he caught of the sight, he was waiting to see – elegant, beautiful, and adorably wearing a kurtha. He caught sight of the lip gloss as well and had to deviate his mind to ensure that he was not fascinating about it – at least not till she was dropped home. He felt like he had to get down and open the car but the policeman standing beside the vehicle had the most “get out of here” face and he had to do the next best gentlemanly behavior – open the door for the lady from inside the car.

Her “hi” was just a squiggle of the hands as she was busy on the phone. Decreasing the volume, he began to admire her cute voice, the one that he would hear over his best utility. He wasn’t the fastest driver, and he did not mind having the quality right now. She hung up the phone and looked with a friendly smile. He knew there was nothing more in those eyes, or was there, he thought to himself. As the night poured in, he strolled out the hybrid onto the quiet roads of the hilly city. A wonderful car drive, he thought to himself, I hope this doesn’t fade away …

He held the bottle tightly, remembering everything about her as he swallowed the wine, as if it had the healing powers he had imagined it to possess. Never so much pain, and he laughed. That thought just trickled on forever, he felt. Would it ever stop? He looked around to see whether anyone had been noticing him. The silent night seemed his only partner and as a small gust of wind passed by – he started crying inside again. Why could he not cry out aloud? Shame, fear, hurt, pain or the mere thought that if he cried inside – she would hear him. Was there ever an imaginary thread that could hold two people together, he wondered. He chuckled to himself as he saw a tear fall into the glass – the mere thought of such romantic fantasies should have been left to the television set. He wanted to tear himself apart – for the mistakes he had commited – but what were they? Had he cheated on her, had he played around, had he led her on – the answers to all those he knew were not one that she would believe. Or was he hurt by his unforgivable mistake of just trying to let her go. Hearing those words, none of which were spoken to him – yet words that mattered – the greatest crime of any kind – betraying the trust of someone he cared about as much as he could have cared. The words kept piercing him, letter by letter till he slide down the wall with his back, till he was on his knees. As the river flowed more graciously, he began to feel the word he did not want to hear himself – regret. A beautiful voice, a calming laugh, mind puzzling words and the constant reply of “NO” – it was all gone. It just happened and not it was not there anymore.

He clinched the glass tighter, and saw himself – reflected on a small prism – shone by the slightest moonlight – on the background of a dark red fluid – he still loved her.