For I am and I ought not be

 I have lost too much

to find this light...

basked in non-privilege

to get this skin-deep.

Yet this resentment

for all I have not been

weighs me down.

I lost my self

in years of drowning;

as I wander, weak and adrift,

watching the imagined lives of higher selves.

I reach for lighthouses

I do not own,

losing more than I rescue—

the weight sinking me further,

the burden growing.

I wish to be lighter

with my own weight.

As I lie shattered at rock bottom,

light rayleighs through my fog.

The haze is a blessing;

it is time to gather my pieces

and let the not-me drift away.

And when I must judge,

decide, or act—

let me be strong and wise enough

to stay alight.

To respect what is truly mine,

letting nature flow through what is not,

in harmony with my cosmos—

for who I am, and I ought-not-be.

Unconditional

It's bound to lose

But would stay forever in you

It's bound to melt away

Like a snowflake in the storm

Like a fragrant aster in the air

But would become forever a part of you

It's bound to change with the times

Like a shifting sand dune

like a sun-kissed maple leaf

and would mesmerize you forever in all its forms

It's bound to be itself

Even though it knows its fate

For unconditional love

Knows what feels right

दहेज़

किसी बाप ने बोझ समेट 

सिर से आज उतारा 

तो किसीने अपनी लक्ष्मी बाई की ढाल बन 

सुबह ही आने वालों को जाने का रास्ता दिखा डाला 

किसी ने अपना हक़ मांग 

बराबर कन्धा दिया 

तो किसी अबला ने न माँगा न दिया 

बस मांगने वालों की आग में खुद से ख़ुदी को खो डाला 

किस्से हज़ारों नम इन आँखों में 

कुछ नीति से भरे तो कुछ युक्तियुक्त 

कुछ संकुचे कुछ उन्मुक्त 

कुछ जीते ... कुछ जीये 

कहानी हम  सब ने अपनी खुद लिखी 

किसीने कलम खुद पकड़ी 

तो किसीने सब को थमाई 

और यूँ ताना बाना बुन 

समाज की चादर बनायी 

और छेद तो तब बने इस चादर में 

जब एक ताने ने बाने का सिर झुकाया 

न सम्मान दिया न स्वीकारा 

वो हाथ मेरा भी था जितना तेरा 

समाज की ये लड़ाई 

कब निति या नियम जीत पाए हैं 

एक दुसरे को नकार 

कब एक या  करोड़ क्रांति ला पाए हैं 

my favorite orchard

even it had spoilage

I would pick the best

and leave the rest

to the test of times

to feed back 

the roots of my favorite orchard

may sit in its shade

of a hundred years old oracle

or shun its shadows

if they grow on you

blocking the light and life

growing out of my favorite orchard

all is well

as you honor its goodness

leave the weathered be

connect with the folds of time anew

and grow into something more

than my favorite orchard

Did we forget to raise the politicians

And left them to the chances

Of adversary, of unmet grievances

Or the giants are canopying

The struggling fresh blades of ideas

Or is it the survival of the old

Defying ageing at what may cost

Did we forget to raise politicians

For that’s no body’s dreams

Not a parent’s or a child’s

Of a teen’s or an influencer’s

Is it dirtier than the dirtiest job we have heard

Or a pit only for the fallen

And now we are lead by myopias

Of boundaries, of growth, of happiness

Voting led by bets and lotteries

And freebies and poachers

Which side has turned into what

For all the way it’s back to animal farm

To Maths, with Love

Dear kiddo, Maths is a language

And English is another

Just like the characters of Shakespeare

Your variables will never cease to wonder

Unlike His novels

Your variables live in a world of order

Two plus is two always four

Unless you enter into the realms of quantum blur

They skip, they hold hands with X and Pluses

They have differences and moments

Unlocking the biggest mysteries of the world

The Bermudas, the 2024 YR4, or the apocalypse

Numbers are the key to the questions

You have not yet asked for precise

They are the order in the chaos

For, even God is believed to play the dice

To all my kids and students who get scared from Maths, just because...

ਆਪਣੇ ਹੀ ਹੱਥ, ਅਪਣਾ ਹੀ ਭੈ

 ਸੌ ਵਾਰ ਦੁਹਾਇਆਂ ਦਿਤੀਆਂ 

ਤੇ ਸੌ ਵਾਰ ਅੰਬਰ ਵੱਲ ਤੱਕਿਆ 

ਕੰਡਿਆਂ ਵਰਗੀ  ਜਕੜੰਣ ਸੀ  

ਸੌ ਵਾਰ ਲੜੀਆਂ ਤੇ ਹਾਰਿਆਂ 

ਹਾਰ ਜਦੇ ਮੈਂ ਤਾਕੀ, ਅੱਖਾਂ ਵਿਚ ਅੱਖਾਂ ਡਾਲ 

ਆਪਣੇ ਹੀ ਡਰ ਨਾਲ ਰੂਬਰੂ 

ਅਪਣਾ ਅਮਲ 

ਤੇ ਅਪਣਾ ਹੀ ਅਖ਼ਤਿਆਰ 

ਹੁਣ ਫੁਰਸਤ ਨਾਲ ਚਲ ਬੈਠ ਕਰ 

ਇਕ ਇਕ ਭੈ ਦੀਆਂ ਗੱਲਾਂ 

ਮੁਕ ਜਾਣ ਦੇ ਇਸਦੀਆਂ ਉਡੀਕਾਂ 

ਆਪਣੇ ਹੀ ਹੱਥ ਫੜ ...ਕੰਡਿਆਂ ਕਰਾ ਪਾਰ 

Poison in me

 Must have been angry on some

Or on lost expectations, perhaps very invested

Or was it on the fears of losing a future

That I chose to poison my words

Must have been some disoriented horizons

Or some misplaced priorities, perhaps very delusional

Or my own inactions, and slipping opportunities

That I chose to poison my logic

Must have been something ...

Must have been something ...

That instead of taking a breath

And, breathing in all that I had

That I chose to poison the moment

Unteaching MIS

 After a long career gap, I am back and I am back teaching the same dreaded subject - Management Information Systems from Laudon. In the past two years - I have broken all career stereotypes and taught courses ranging from Generative AI to Ethics. Loved teaching each one of them because I believed in them, loved each bit of them...but MIS using Laudon, I wondered why it was more bitter than ever this time!

The sequence of events of my single day might reflect this ecky feeling!

And conspicuously, the day started with a wish to find a nice silk fabric in South Delhi without much wild goose hunting. Multiple friends had recommended me the "Nalli Saree Shop". I was reluctant - I had heard of its price range! And the time constraint was steep. So one night before, I visited Nalli online website and found I might just use it instead of wasting my time visiting the store. And then, the next morning - I don't know why - I just put "Nalli Sarees" on my map - and off I went. The map made me go merry-go-round of South Ex until I realized - Nalli was right in front of me from where I parked my car and started revolving around the market using my map thereafter. Nalli had shifted ...but never bothered to change their location online! Bravo!

In I went... and was instantly taken over by warm salespeople smiles and received a very reasonable understanding from them on which floor I needed to be on just a look at my bag full of sarees. Parking myself on the right floor for the right product, it took me a few light and friendly conversations on my saree color matching exercises - my fellow ladies discussing their to-buys or not-to-buys with anyone in a close radius - I getting clues from a young girl in how I could use those fabrics to create cheaper-than-fabindia Dupattas. They knotted my saree tassels for free - even though they were aware my sarees were not bought from Nalli. No issues at all - just smiles. Billings were all modern - but the Nalli's dos and don'ts on returns etc were all old and bold style written placards. They dictated the rules and customers never seem to complain! I ...smiling all wide there...just didn't want to take the lift back. In slow motion...I chose to tread the old mahogany stairs down each floor with all the Indianness and smiles and hullabaloo.

I realized it was such a happy experience only after I opened Laudon's first chapter at night and read about the smart shelves, presumably in trend among big retailers! And I wondered, why it was more bitter than ever...

Laudon has a habit of showing moonshot technologies view at the most typical of places! Smart shelves- equipped with wide angled low lying cameras - cashierless counters - smartphones guiding customers to the right aisles - object recognition to alert when did we park our cars in the parking - Gosh, you are killing me! Literally!  Of course, it is Generative AI written all over the "smart shelves" and that is why, my love for GenAI also ends at its Maths! 

I wonder if my students will ever know what they will be missing in the future! Wish I could unteach MIS to them after teaching it!

Sometimes...

 Sometimes, I close my eyes

Swirling myself in the air

To the song I sing in my hair

And throw my arms open to a thousand miles view…Sometimes

Sometimes, I unfetter the loved

redeem the feared

close my eyes to the whirls of life

and just open to the whole good sky....Sometimes

Sometimes, I wish to hold whats with me

and cherish whats within

grow what I am without

and just keep living in the woods...sometimes

आज़ादी

आज़ादी रिश्तों को तोड़ कब मिली 

आज़ादी सब छोड़ कब मिली 

आज़ादी तो मन की थी, जैसी मांगी वैसी  मिली 

आज़ादी पढ़ लिख कर कब मिली 

आज़ादी पैसों से इज़्ज़त से कब मिली 

आज़ादी तो हर पल में थी, जब चाही तब मिली 

हाथों में पकड़ यूँ जग बटोरा 

इधर उधर सब सुन यूँ बोझ बिठोरा 

आज़ादी जग बटोरने में कब मिली 

आज़ादी तो हलकी सी थी, बस सांस भर छोड़ा ___और मिली 

पर क्या आज़ादी से में खुश थी?

या पिंजरे में बंद, रिश्तों की ताल में बँध 

सोने की चमक से चुंध्याई, या आन बान से सिकुड़ी 

या फिर __खाली सी, कुछ हलकी सी, और कम सी 

आज़ादी ___

जब चाही तब मिली  

मन  में उल्लास भर तू
निकल धूप में तड़क भड़क
मुस्कुरा। ... तू खिल खिला
ये निकली तुझे बढ़ाने के लिए 

Science vs Engineering vs Business

It is highly stimulating how science brings explanations, corrections and often more questions to be answered! How engineering shapes the abstractions of science into cogs and wheels and makes it run with conviction! How business makes us feel how we have been in need of this new gadget for all along!

How we connect the product with the science of it - with the progress of it!

How we shun the possibilities of re-tracking the wheel of invention back to where the science of it all was explained once. For what is working should be enough evidence of it being correct!

Science has never been this confident that it forgets being questioned and being enquired upon. Should the manifestations of Science be that confident then?

The A's and C's

A sunny ride

With bumps and glides

Loving the ups

and the downs

as they appraised with their A's and C's

Changed my ways

my smiles and strides

keeping alive

the dreams and joys

there...toasting for some more A's and C's

had covered up my flaws

and honed my skills

from the Admirers

and the Critics

Alas! never approved by the A's and C's

let me be stamped, starred and judged

just break the mould

and discern them all

reflect within

for I am my Admirer and the best Critic

The masterpiece...

I cherish that famous Picaso fable where a man wonders how he is going to make a lion out of huge piece of boulder...and Picaso effortlessly replies "I'm going to chip off everything that doesn't look like a lion". Sometimes I wonder He is also expert at chipping off everything that doesn't look like me to make a masterpiece called "I".

Please, don't judge my baby...

With all those complaints about her restless and stubborn nature and poor fine motor skills...yesterday her teacher shared that Lakrishna got first position in drawing and GK in her class...Not that it sounds like an achievement for a small kid who should not be judged at such a tender age....but it has always been about me scoring as a mother on by guilt and satisfaction scales...and there is more to it which had been disturbing me since late...

Before I had admitted Lakrishna in her playschool when she was two...many friends and folks had told me not to do so as that might put her under pressure. This was incomprehensible and way too opinionated for me to understand. She was the only kid in her class who always used to be excited about going to school...thanks to her school for making her first school experience fun....But this fun was short-lived I guess. I had promised to myself that I'll never pressurize Lakrishna for her studies until she is five...but with all those complaints about her incomplete homework, comparisons with other kids notebooks...I ended up pressurizing her for "homework"...and suddenly "homework" became a dreaded word for her...at the age of three. I was loosing it....totally....and wait, there were exams too...
I knew Lakrishna was not lagging behind....her fine motor skills are evident on her room's walls and in precision with which she cuts her butterflies...only issue is she doesn't like doing "homework"...why?? because "homework" is not fun...and my "now" four years old kid wants everything fun...and I dont see anything wrong with it...
what bothers me is....even with schools pitching the word "fun" with their education system....they end up killing it....
what bothers me more is....when all her peers are conditioned to this pressurized way of life...will she be accustomed to the tag of being relatively "stubborn" and "mediocre" student in her class...
I only have one request to contemporary education system...please dont judge my baby till she is five....let her have fun with her play and with her education...

Flowing with the flow...

Uncertainty is scaring, for we have dreams to live that are dependent on everything uncertain. Or that’s how a fear is born in our minds.
I wandered for years looking for certainty, looking for stability ...sometimes taking shelter under a weathering rock and sometimes playing with grassy terrains but I knew I was not destined to be stable.
As I flow on my course from steeps to grounds I was pampered and I was abused. Little did I know that my meaning is to flow!
Yet I attached myself with the places, with the people – the good and the fanciful; and scorned the abusive ones. Did I know that my meaning is to flow!
I made dreams with things that didn’t belong to me, with people that could not be in my flow...and wondered why I am still suffering, still longing for my liberation...forgotten totally that my meaning is to flow...to be one with my world and to love what I am and whatever becomes mine and where I take myself to! This uncertain flow of my life is my dream...
I shall end in a boundless sea for certain. It is to be seen how beautifully I live my dream...

Ramanujan's Ramayana...

Having renounced facebook and other social activities to avoid accumulation of negative energies in me…in little time that I have, I decided to redirect my randomness into some passionate web contents like economic political weekly, livemint.com, information weekly journal and tehelka.com. I considered these options as to keep me alive and abreast of happenings around me in my non-happening world... for coming few months. This will also help my grey cells from succumbing to numbers and logics that my thesis is!

So as expected, when I opened my eclipse IDE, I had this craving for facebooking and posting some arbit and attractive thought coming to my mind (which I am not able to recall now…interestingly). I channelized myself to epw site where I caught up with an article on banning of Ramanujan's essay on 300 versions of Ramayanas by DU. This is an old news I remember. Essay's exact title is "Three Hundred Ramanyanas: Five Examples and Three Thoughts on Translation". Author of epw article elucidates (in a bit abstract manner… due to lack of space I guess) five examples and three thoughts. Few excerpts from the essay were cited giving hints of an analytical, unbiased and crisp…and very academic language that Ramanujan applied.

Five examples in the article mentioned some interesting differences between versions like that of Valmiki, Thai, Kampan's (Tamil), Jain's etc….differences like those of style of writing (e.g. symbolic meanings of characters), facts (like Sita was Ravana's daughter via some indirect context) etc….and with such differences, reflecting upon different versions of Ramayanas to observe what actual Ramayana could have meant for us. Not having read either the Ramayana or the Ramanujan's essay on first place, I feel incomplete but nonetheless let my bounded rationality reign for now.

Just imagining the merit of such an article I too agree with epw author that banning such piece of analysis is not only a big loss for students but also foe understanding our culture. Culture must be studied, analysed…not with a closed mind and senses. To put it to use….one must dismarry oneself from the rigidities and blind faiths that are side products of a culture which is older than the oldest banyan tree alive….to let the culture understand contemporaries and vice versa and let the new wind blow….otherwise both the new and old beings dwelling on our earth will be lost in their own worlds without accepting and learning from each other...

I think I have started thinking monotonously these days whenever it comes to our culture...but I stand for it...always!

Deny being Dependent

I lived my life in my way
And taught you the same each day
Today as my vitals start to retire
I deny I deny
I deny being dependent for the rest of my way

My eyes are giving up on me, I know
But my vision soars high with every blow
With this energy and experience of years
I deny I deny
I deny being dependent on things I don’t know

When I had life, you were my dream
I lived you and struggled to make you true
But as this night sets on me my Son
I deny I deny
I deny being dependent on the shadows of your light

Like I nurtured the light in you
And loved to see you gleam and glow
Now it is time you cultivate these weakening roots
I will I will
I will live this life for the rest of my way


(with love to my elders)

Preaching Mode and I

There goes a panchtantra tale of maina and a monkey with maina coming in preaching mode and monkey reacting to maina’s undesired pack of advices by destroying her nest. Recently, one zealous gentleman broke my nest of peace when I came in a preaching mode inadvertently. I don’t wish to repeat such an incident in my life as that brings toll to one’s peace of mind. And latter at back of my mind, I kept asking myself what exactly went wrong! Actually many things were wrong! I did come in a preaching mode, at wrong place with wrong people.

I realized that I do come to preaching mode often. And maximum times, that preaching is undesired. I am thankful to my friends’ generosity for bearing such advices, and also for not bearing.

People share their state of affairs, worries or tensions as this is the way some of us like to connect with each other – but it never means that they are seeking our expert advices. And coming in preaching mode is a normal thing for anybody (but getting a destructive reaction may not be that normal …), but it is seldom the right thing to do! We all are packs of experiences and information. When this pack becomes overloaded, we tend to shed our loads here and there – discounting our pack’s value, sometimes irritating sometimes helping others. One may like to do it to boost their egos, or to share superiority of their information and experiences, or to wear an empathetic role if one really feels for it, or to do it as a job¹. It is the last option that makes a striking equilibrium in the world of preachers².
I believe only doctors should come in prescription mode. Why? They advise patients who have faith in them (patient has no other choice when it comes to doctors); they have every right to be well informed about the situation (patient cant hide his/her issues), and most importantly they are getting paid for it. Other groups falling in this category are teachers and consultants.

1. …, or if you are Nana Patekar and you are getting paid for yelling in a movie.
2. Personally, I don't remember myself disliking anybody's advice in my life. It is always a pleasure to know what others have to say on any issue. And for those occasional waste-of-time kinds of preachings – I have big filters; and I do have better methods of avoiding such occasions. This note is, with due respect, for those people whose advices I really loved - no matter right or wrong