Utopia

The following poem is in a form of a dialogue between a mother and a postman. The lady has her only son at war and is eagerly waiting for any news of him. Good Morning! A ye’ gentleman Bid what tide thou hath bought for me. “Good Dame, nothing, but a post From your war gone son”,said he . Pray tarry not and haste thou make, And tell me all that ye hath got. Oh! Tell me scores of foe he slew, And like a lion he did fought. Pray tell me that words these say, Some good,of my gallant lad.                      That he hath made his country proud. By victory as we never had. Blessed be thou if words these say. That my Valliant soldier son, Had bid,his old mom to rejoice. For he, homeward shall soon come.                        ...

This is, Rahul Jaykar, a supremely self obsessed guy with misplaced sense of moral magnanimity. He wants to make a star out of Aarohi. Picks him up, brings her to the big city and does all right things to make this damsel in distress into what HE imagines she should be. Bingo, all goes well and a star in born. Our super hero pats himself on his back. He has shown the world what he is capable off. He had a dream for HER and he turned it into reality, without ever thinking, if SHE shared the same dream. But then he was doing this all for her sake. He wanted to make Aarohi a star, he did. But did we at any point in time, wonder if Aarohi wanted the same? She subjected to his wishes and he to alcoholism. She left all for his sake; he could not abstain from drinking.   He wanted Aarohi to attain success, acquire material pleasures, but what if Aarohi never wanted too…? Love was too strong a force with Aarohi to say no to Rahul. Rahul was too strong to ever give in Aarohi’s LOVE. All A...

Dear Sashiji, I have great regards for you . You are the best among equals. You have made India proud at many occasions in past, and I sincerely hope you continue doing so in future as well. But my sincere admiration of you, Sashiji ,for the deeds done in past, can not hide my utter disappointment for discrediting Mendel. I am a Life Science Graduate, and an insult to father of Genetics is unacceptable.       Sashiji,in your recent accusatory tweet, you have imparted a flavor of fascism to RSS. You are a politician Sashiji, and have all the right to sling mud. But the logic that because RSS allegedly copies the KHAKHI shorts from the fascist Italian regime, they are Fascist is seriously flawed. Sashiji, you are a wise man, a well read man (you even reads gsurya's tweet), so assuming that you are not aware of basics of "Laws of Inheritance" is blasphemous. But the alternative, that you, Sashiji,feigned ignorance is an assumption with even more disastrous ramificat...

Have you ever been assigned an important task by your manager? You are given a deadline to complete it. Your manager, who assigned you this task, believes in your capabilities. He has assigned this task to you, because he believes only YOU can do it. He touch bases with you at every crucial stage of the task, keeps dropping at your desk and rings you to check the progress. He keeps hovering over your shoulder. Welcome the Micro Manager .  The Micro-manager guises his compulsion to interfere under the cloak of “an attention to detail”. My dear friends these control freaks, who “want to drive you to success”   risk disempowering you. There is a very thin line between an INVOLVED manager and OVER-INVOLVED Manager. Agreed,it is a manager’s job to help push the work of the team along – instructing, motivating, guiding, directing, prompting, reminding, and yes, sometimes even doing the work him/herself. The difference lies in whether all that effort is really adding...

Thanks to a person, who so much cares, Precious, time whole –heartedly spares. Always not the blood dose matter, In love,we only need to chatter In life,at each step,twist and turns, Along the way, what more concerns. A wee of understanding a thought to share, And a heart and soul so lost in care…..

My land of birth, I pledge to thee Of whose son, I am proud to be.                 For the sake of whose pride,                 Our forefathers readily died. Thy head crowned by mountain high, Snow –white peak reaching up to sky.                 Thy feet washed by water blue,                 Clean    & pure   & sweet as dew. Thy lap covered with green and gold, Thy children true,   wise and bold.                  Thou taught forgiveness of evil done                  And love for all men “Neath the sun”. Thou taught us strength that cannot seek, By any means to hurt the weak.                  My honour, my pride my fate you ...