Abhigyan Siddhant

The Vanity Of Humanity

2010-09-07T16:50:00.001+05:30

For years and years we tread,
Crushed under the weights of the brutal world,
Trying to reach it's cruel expectations,
With methods crooked and curled.

We look up to the gleaming skies,
A fierce fire of ambition burning in the eye,
And hope, and pray to the distant heaven,
For our perceived view of happiness and joy.

The vanity of our marred souls,
Reflects clearly in the selfish, unyielding work we do.
Never have we cared about another amongst us,
Never, in our minds, shall this feeling go through.

The vain chiseled thoughts,
We trained ourselves in self-deceit to believe,
Engulfed in these mortal desires of the mind,
We locked away the happiness our heart wished to receive.

A Dying Wish

2010-09-05T00:05:00.003+05:30

Give me this hope, that I will not die forgotten.
For once in my life - just this once, assure me,
That after all the deeds I have done,
I will survive in your memories.

Across the great desert of breeding hate,
Where the hopes die, and the love cries,
I hope that one day, in the dead of the night,
You will remember me, in a moment of surprise.

And that you will look back and remember,
The lives we led and the tears we bled.
Give me your word that this will not be forgotten;
Give me your promise, that you will tell my tale.

And that you shall relive, with a tear in your eye,
The moments of happiness in your times of vain;
That you will remember the courage you have,
And, with all your heart, smile through all the pain.

Oh, how feeble the knots of our destiny:
A moment is all they need to undo,
But have courage in your heart; know
That I shall forever watch over you.

The days we have are numbered,
And we may ever succumb to our fates.
Just once, with a strong voice, promise me this:
Years later, under the glorious sun, you will tell my tale.

Broken Glass

2010-08-20T00:55:00.000+05:30

A short film about the result of mental torture of a teen by an alcoholic parent.

Stop Child Abuse.

The film is a one-man effort, i.e., I was the only crew in the entire film. This meant I had to act (which isn't the best in the world) and direct the camera, which led to only static shots.

Also, this is my first short-film, and I am not a film student. Film making is a personal hobby. Do let me know what you think about it. Please, feel free to point out ways to better the cinematography, shots and directions.

Conserving Water: The Need Of The Hour

2010-05-01T20:01:00.008+05:30

Water is the essence of life; life is impossible without it. We depend on water so much, for our daily being, that if anything happens to this resource, we will cease to exist. This is a well known fact, and yet, we are careless; we misuse water - we abuse water - and this we do for our monstrous greed. We put not only ourselves, but the whole cycle of life, in jeopardy.

If we are not careful, the world, as we know it, will go down into a never-ending stillness of lifelessness. There will be no beautiful lakes for us to sit by and wonder about it's grandeur and abundance. There will be no tall trees, giving shade to those who have withered in the fierce sun. There will not exist the wide variety of life, on which depends our ecosystem. These will not be there for us, because of us.

The earth, our home, and a home to the global family of six billion people, will be devastated.

It is our moral and ethical duty, as well as the need of the hour, to conserve water. It is also what we owe to the uncountable forms of innocent lives, whose terrible fates have been sealed due to our unwise deeds.

Those who don't believe, say that about seventy percent of earth is water, and that it is very unlikely that we will ever run out of it. They are partially correct: earth is seventy percent water, but, unfortunately, only one percent of this is fit for consumption; and, on top of that, most of this little amount that is left is frozen. Therefore, we have less than one-hundredth of a percent of consumable water for all of life on this planet to exist on. This is a very sorry state of affairs, and lest we are careful, our survival is doomed.

Under the given circumstances, can we afford to be careless? Can we afford to use water unwisely for our own greed? Do we not have a responsibility, as a part of the grand web of life, to do all in our powers to conserve water?

This is a crisis that we cannot afford to not tackle or overcome properly. We need to change our ways. We need to become environmentally wise. Our little deeds count. All around the world, we are washing our cars and watering our gardens with huge hoses that waste more water than required. We let the water run in the taps in the morning when we get dressed because our laziness. We use water extensively in our fountains with disregard to those dying of thirst, only to beautify our houses. This, we must stop.

We need to change our lifestyles, and be kinder to the nature that has brought humanity in existence. Apart from this, we need to set up water harvesting plants. We need to conserve water in what ever way we can; it is our only hope.

Mahatma Gandhi said, "Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed” He was right. If we use as much water as we need, the cycle of life will keep running.

We owe this to the generations to come. Do we want that years down the line, our children turn to us and say, with a despising look on their worn-out faces, that had we been a bit more careful, a bit less prodigal, their deaths would not have been so inevitable? Do we want to be looked down upon by the very same people we dedicate our lives to?

We need to do this. We need to save water, so that our children too can sit by the lake, enjoy the shade of the trees, or even exist for that matter.

We need to do this, so that the beautiful animals, the vibrant colours of nature and the life-giving trees are there for the future generations to see, and not just hear about in the tired tales of the destruction we endorsed.

We don't want to leave behind a world that is a curse. We need to act now and act fast. We have to gather all our strengths. We need to bring about a global change. We need a new perspective to life. We need to make strong decisions - ones that are righteous, and not merely comfortable.

The Change

2010-05-01T10:58:00.002+05:30

(The text written below is a fictional short story, in a first-person narrative. It was an answer to a question in a test at school.)

I wonder why this had to be this way. There was a happy life I had, away from all this, and yet all has been taken away from me. My conscience is stained, and my eyes are sore. It has been days, or perhaps months - or was it just hours ago? - I don’t remember; for that matter, don’t want to remember.

I remember, vaguely, a time when I was happy - something I crave for now. I remember my parents, happy as they were, and I remember my house. Oh, that house! I have this hazy image of me walking down the street, eons ago, as it seems, when I first set my eyes on the house. What a wonderful paradise it had seemed, white like a pearl, rising majestically from the sea of green that surrounded it...

I must not digress, I have to put the truth into words, before my time is over; and the end seems to be inching nearer every second.

I have memories of a lavish life, with friends, comfort and happiness. I was a carefree person, and i sought to live life to the fullest, each day at a time, as it came.

Every weekend I would go with my friend to the movie theatre or to clubs, and have, what i though to be, the time of me life. I think it was the same with everyone who came with us, or anyone near us, for that matter.

It was the general trend of the whole city, I suppose, because every time I went to a club, I saw a lot of people - some I knew, and some were new. I remember happiness again, with friends, at these parties; I remember music; I remember my guitar, and how I used to strum it; and when I did, I would detach myself from the world, like an open conscience flowing away in the divine space of spirituality.

I am straying from the path again, and I must not do so, but these are the things that I will never have again and so I can’t help that my mind brings them up ever so unpredictably. But the time is less, and I have a truth to confess.

By now, you would be well aware of how I was - happy, joyful and cheerful. But it all changed.

It was at one of these parties, at the club, that I met Ravi, that child of the devil. I curse the day with all my heart and all my soul, but I doubt this will do anything. Ravi was one of those people you immediately became friends with. He had all the jokes - he would make them on even the most serious of situations - and a perspective to life that seemed right. He was even more carefree than I was, so much so that he was into the habit of doing things that the society forbade. He thought that it was his life and he had the right to do whatever he wished with it. This accounted for his indulgence in illegal drugs.

Though I never saw him take them, and neither did I ever take them - though I must confess, I had a strong urge to try them - I had seen him carry them, and so I knew he dealt in drugs. The drugs and the world that Ravi lived in, had kindled a strange fascination in me, like that of a child, when he sees a toy he greatly desires. One day, I decided I would go with him to one of his deals.

As I write this, I feel a pang of guilt, and anguish. I am the one who has brought this upon myself. But I must carry on.

So there I was, with Ravi, at one of the subways in the city, near my glorious house. As we waited there, Ravi handed me something covered in a white handkerchief. I felt the cold steel of a gun, and glanced with horror at Ravi. He just smiled and asked me to keep it.

I should have understood what this meant. I should have known better. I should have run away from there, right then. I would do this, if I had another chance. But, alas, life is not a fairy tale; there is no going back.

A few minutes after Ravi had given me the gun, three people with a small bag on their shoulders, came. I though it was rather comical that they should deal with Ravi, for they looker much older. And then my life changed.

One of them suddenly sprang on Ravi, and took out handcuffs from the bag, in a blink of an eye, and had him on the floor. The other two started running towards me. I realised with horror, what what had happened. Ravi had been set up, and I had brought myself deep trouble.

I swear to God that what happened next was purely a reflex. I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t remember what was going on in my mind when I suddenly took out the gun, and fired two shots. Both the policemen running towards me, fell to the ground, dead. The third one, who was with Ravi, fired back at me, as I ran, and managed to hit my left shoulder. But still I ran, as fast as I could, faster than what I thought was possible.

And now I sit here, in the alley behind a house, full of mud and a stink that would have had me vomit earlier. Not anymore. It just doesn’t matter. Life is not as good as it once seemed. I have a heavy conscience and it is getting tougher to bear the weight of my deeds. My shoulder, where I was shot, is engulfed in a writhing pain and is completely immobile. It has taken a lot of strength to do this.

I hope someday, someone will read this, and know that I was innocent. I hope they publish this in the newspapers, so that people know how life can change, and that bad deeds end in disasters.

The pain in my shoulder is unbearable. I have written my truth, and now there is only one thing left to do. With great pain, I have lifted the gun up in my left hand. The barrel points at my head and my fingers are on the trigger.

I want to apologize to my parents, for the pain I am about to bring upon them. I want to say a last goodbye to my friends, and to the house that I shall never be in again. I hope where I go now, will be a better place. With this last thought on my mind, I pull the trig-

The Vision Of Truth

2010-05-01T00:04:00.001+05:30

Get up, and look around, what do you see?
Not the answers I came for, nor the dreams.
What do I see, you ask? Then let me tell you:
The picture in not as beautiful as it seems.

I see a world broken down in pieces,
I see a world consumed by it's own desires.
I see despair, I see desperation; I see
A mutilated world, burning in it's own fires.

I see the tenderness dissolve, into a scorching lust,
I feel the love fade away into an abyss, lost;
A new world of materialistic pleasures sets in
And steals the contentment, once greatly sought.

Empty; my thoughts have drained,
And I stare into the eyes of the golden sun.
As I look out of the little window,
I see all my thoughts gone, and deeds undone.

A fire burns, and hungrily it devours and consumes
All that has ever mattered and ever will,
In a grey ball of smoke before my eyes,
I see the truth that was, forever killed.

Why such thoughts occur in my mind, you ask,
And I reply with the truth of an observer,
I see the futility of the world, in things
You don't conceive, and sulk vainly forever.

The truth of world's vanity is clear before my eyes;
And it pains a lot to admit what I do,
I sit and write my heart out on a piece of paper,
I feel devoid of certainty, and denied of joy too.

I know not why I say what I do,
I know not what should be said and avoided,
I know not what I have said is a lie or, is it true
I am only a single being,
Unsatisfied of the world and internally divided.

The Excruciating Journey

2010-02-05T00:13:00.004+05:30

THE FOLLOWING ARTICLE WAS WRITTEN IN FRUSTRATION DURING A HIGHLY IRRITATING JOURNEY. NO OFFENSE OR HARM INTENDED, TO ANY PERSON OR ORGANIZATION, AND IF SENTIMENTS ARE HURT, I APOLOGIZE FOR THAT.

This is bad. Tiresome, really. I am irritated and tired, virtually exhausted out of my wits. I'm beginning to think that this journey as a foolish idea after all. I travelled all the miles, conjured up so many lies and spilled a bowl of chicken (of all things!) on bed sheet at my aunt's place, all just to be stuck in this stupid, stupid train, heading nowhere, from nowhere, and currently, in the middle of nowhere!

As I see it, currently I'm lost in the mysterious, disruptive world of railway tracks and I have been so for past seven hours. This train has managed to drain every last ounce of energy in me.

And to make it worse, there are these nosey by-passengers, who think their only reason to live is to acquire the most explicit details of your personal life and family history. Even the FBI would maintain a limit in such informations, even with the worst of criminals. But not these filthy miscreants, for they choose to bug me continuously. "Where are you from?", "What do you do?", "Where are you going?" and "Is there any particular reason for you to go there?", these are always the opening questions. It's like being in an interrogation room! (I need to remember to write to the FBI about this; they may find just the right interrogators from amongst these passengers. And I may get a finder's fee (if they do have this reward) - well, something out of this annoying travel by the train.)

The damn train has stopped again! This is the seven-hundred-and-ninety-seventh time that this train has managed this feat. The train, which should have been at it's destination about an hour ago (going by the highly optimistic and definitely unattainable schedule), has not yet covered half the distance. So, I wait here, trying not to break a sweat t the thought of (at least) another seven-hundred-and-ninety-seven stops. But, alas, I did succumb to the disastrous thought, I have to confess. This type of excruciatingly over-extended traveling time can break the bravest of hearts. It can bring down the strongest of empires. And it can force the responsible citizens of a nation to overthrow the Government. Okay, maybe not, but I had to make the dragging journey sound life-changing.

With so much time at hand, and nothing left to do, after finishing two magazines, one movie and one round of soothing (and heavenly) nap, I looked around. There was a whole bunch of unrealistic characters in the train, that I had though only existed in the over-the-buff Hindi movies. But here they were, from the bored, irritated elderly couple who never looked at each other throughout the journey to the foolish guy who advocated his political beliefs to the vast unwilling audience, from the mind-blowing foolish people pretending to be know-it-all, to the American tourists who find anything and everything interesting, and strangely spiritual. The folks back in this country are evidently rich with beliefs, like praying to trees and making a cross after looking at a cat cross the street, but the Americans who come here are completely convinced that even a guy running to catch a missing train (or bus) has a hidden enlightening meaning behind it. Yes the Indian culture is rich and vibrant, with all sorts of superstitions and spiritual ways, but none of these consist of catching a bus while running, or sipping tea in earthen pots. These activities are typically, and simply India, yes; but spiritual, no.

Then there is the amazing character who just snore all the way in such a strange fashion, that it becomes impossibly difficult to get angry at him, for every time you try to do so, you burst out laughing, because magically at the very same instant the person comes up with an entirely new sound of snore. It is irritatingly hilarious!

Then there is the cleanliness around the passengers - or rather the lack of it. The travelers somehow seem to think that the floor, especially the corners and the places below the seats, resemble the garbage disposal bins in a curious way, because it is the only place they are ready to dispose their waste. No matter that there is a proper dustbin ten feet ahead, they seem to find the corners a better alternative. Hygiene, or rather the lack of it, is the key defining point in the lives of the travelers here.

And all this is just a fraction of what the Indian Railways has to offer in it's incredible trains. It's worth experiencing - NOT!

I would have written more, however I'm really tired now. By the time I have finished writing this, I have counted another two hundred stops. Five-hundred-and-ninety-seven more to go. Enough time for me to bring up a personal militia and overthrow the Government. So far, so good.

The "Shiv Sena" Imbroglio

2010-02-03T18:58:00.005+05:30

The Shiv Sena is playing dirty politics and is trying to gain ground in Maharashtra through highly unlawful means, like the events we have recently seen. Shah Rukh Khan is an Indian, and as per the Indian Constitution, has a birthright to articulate his opinions, he has the Freedom To Speech, and it is highly unethical for anyone to stop him from doing so.

As far as Bal Thackeray is concerned, he is an individual with absurd policies that only thaw the laws of the nation in every way possible: be it spreading hatred, discriminating or creating regional divide. He is a person who should just be ignored, however when people do this, the authorities in Shiv Sena sense this neglect and then they tend to create controversies, just to get back in the limelight. These controversies almost unavoidably turn damaging and catastrophic for many in more than one way.

Shiv Sena is threatening Shah Rukh Khan, and has done so to other people, this is very unacceptable. This is a criminal offense in itself. To add to that, he has warned the cinemas to not run his movies. Mixing politics with entertainment, then targeting a person for his harmless, individual views on any issue, and still having support from a majority makes us, the Indians, question the very fabric of the nation's laws, and it makes us scared as the justice seems a faraway reality.

Thackeray's dirty politics and his diabolical organization is not only spreading the poisonous venom in the country, but also sending a sad message of hatred across the border. Where the Indian Government is trying to start a dialogue with the neighbouring country, these events in the financial capital of the country makes these efforts seem feeble and hollow.

Maharashtra, and in turn Mumbai, belongs to India. It is not a single person's prodigy and Thackeray or his party have no right to become the masters of a land that belongs to the people of the country. The backbone of Mumbai is the hardworking people who work there, and create a professional environment where progress can take place. MNS and Sena argue that the North Indians come to their land and take away their jobs and livelihood. What they forget is that all the jobs are merit-based; it doesn't matter what part of the country you belong to. If you have enough credentials, you will get the job. But the Sena is indifferent to this simple fact.

The activities of Thackeray's party are very unacceptable, and highly offensive. Bal Thackeray should be penalized for his separatist discriminations and initiating violence. He should be brought to justice, because in every riot that his party brings about, people lose lives. It is the ordinary people who suffer, not Thackeray. It hurts the nation, it challenges the Government. The Shiv Sena bluntly asks the Government, in the sense if not in words, "We will do what we want, we will be the powers that rule this land and dictate our own laws. Stop us if you can." The Government has to show the people of the country that there still exists a line of hope. That India is united after all. That there is a law, and no one, absolutely no one, is above it.