Karan gets the budget... (With due apologies to a certain Pranab Mukherjee)

There was bickering that morning and hissing
In the Finance Ministry; for the budget plan
For the country was suddenly found "missing"
From the Minister's computer."Without the plan
What will we do?" the Officials shrieked,
"Where will we go?" the secretaries screeched,
While in all this midst, the peons stood afroze.
Though Roy and Paul and Bunta and Feroze
Pulled their hair and boiled their juice,
The budget plan proved to be a recluse.

Gloom spread in the office when suddenly,
The Minister Babu walks in nonchalantly.
Digging inside his nose he says, "Don't stress.
It's true that without the budget plan the country's a mess.
But I'm calling Karan to the office.
Take heart; with computers he's a whiz."

The peons stare at the tattoo while the typist
Winces at the studded lip; There's a collective hush
As Karan walks into their midst
Twirling his i Pod and sipping Orange Crush.
Though barely sixteen his credentials are impressive.
He boasts of a degree from Powai, and one more
From Princeton; so nothing's gonna give.
His skills are the stuff of folklore
From IBM to Google to Commodore.
They sing about his genius and traits
From Pyongyang to United fucking States.

Staring at the screen, cracking his knuckles
He sits down to deal with the obstacles.
Moments pass as he types an array of commands
And algorithms to search for what he demands.
Sitting back he says,"the budget plan's gone nowhere,
It cannot escape and I'm gonna search inside there."
There is magic in his fingers as he works the board,
His toil and focus on the job striking a chord.
When up to screen comes an election manifesto
Showing the smiling Minister waving hands with gusto.
A few greetings cards, a song now and then
And a soft porn video of a fully loaded siren
(While the Minister sheepishly hides behind the curtain).

There comes a shout as suddenly Karan jumps
"I've found the plan!" he cries out with goosebumps.
Cheers and Shouts of joy fill the room,
All are relieved to escape from doom.
The Minister dances and officials shake with laughter
While the typist slaps a peon who happily hugged her.
All is well until Karan's elbow accidentally hits the key "Erase"
And the budget plan finally vanishes without a trace!!

Oh, there are some nations which plan right,
And some nations which fuck up outright.
Call me rude but I ask the Minister polite
"When are we ever gonna get it right?"

In the waves...

He went to the pool that evening at 7. He preferred that hour by when all the loud-mouthed college kids who played water-polo would be gone and only a few office-goers come to swim away the day's stress. He preferred the quiet atmosphere and quieter waters. He was pleased to see that the pool area was empty except for the pool instructor. I'm gonna love this, he said to himself. He was still an amateur in swimming but was eager to hone his skills (not to mention to reduce his stubborn tyre around the waist) and relished his regular pool sessions.

Later, when he descended into the pool, he remembered the pretty lady who had swum the previous day. He smiled as he recollected her lithe form gliding across the pool like a fish. He was lingering at one end recovering from his pathetic attempt of two laps as he counted her completing eight laps non-stop. I've a looooooooong way to go to swim like that, he thought. Reminding himself that one day he too would be doing the same, he put on his earplugs and dived underneath.
Water went in and bubbles came out of his nose as he strained his eyes against the sting of chlorine. He stared into the blue nowhere and lazily took in the throbbing silence...

Tham tham thaka thaka thum tum tha thum thum....

What was that?

Sounded like the beats played on a tabla..

He forgot to swim and slowly looked around him in the immense blueness..

Tham thaka thaka thaka tham tham tham....Tha thi thaka thaka tham tham tham..

Again those notes...This time the tabla was joined by the mridangam too..

Surprised and unsettled, he came up to the surface, removed his earplugs and looked around. No music was playing. Not another sound or musical note.
He looked at the pool instructor's desk. The pool instructor sat there reading a newspaper.
Then where did those cymbal notes come from??
Chuck it,he thought. My mind must be playing tricks on me. He put on the earplugs,took a deep breath and dived in..

It was blue and misty,he thought. It was moderately cold and dreamlike,he thought. And closed his eyes.

Thaka thaka thaka tham thathajam thathajam thakida thaka thathajam tha..

This time it was louder and clearer. The unmistakable sound of table, mridangam and some other cymbals.
His eardrums throbbed with the notes.

What's this?? Why was he suddenly feeling the rush of something like an electric current through him?? In the cold water, he suddenly felt a searing heat up his spine. The beats were now becoming more haunting and enchanting. They were first like dewdrops on a flower making it fresh. They were now becoming louder, faster and stronger..He felt goosebumps and his spine tingling with the rhythm..He shook his head and kept still; lying suspended in 7-foot-deep water.

Whence does this music come?? He thought about it along with how long he could be underwater holding his breath.
Just for assurance, he went up and looked around. It was quiet once again. Only the pool instructor to be seen. No one else.

Going down again, he looked around and saw everything was suddenly white.

Snow white. Like a mountain peak.

He looked down to see a stream starting to flow down the slope.The slope stretched down to eternity into further whiteness.

Thunder rolled as the the water flowed down with the rumbling of drums and jingles. The surroundings reverberated with the robust strums of sitar and Spanish flamenco guitar.

The rhythm possessed a certain power, a force that was strong in its combat overtones, with a feel of a great current that was about to sweep down everything in its Olympian rush...

He felt the sudden rush rising up his belly, the sudden flash of exuberance...

The next moment, he moved.

He dived into the stream and into the abyss..

The music now grew louder and almost took physical form with its magnificence. He suddenly could see that the whiteness was slowly morphing into more concrete definite images. He felt a little fear, but he did not stop as he was moving with the stream.

More things became visible- rocks, peaks, clouds, trees....The stream cut deep gorges and he saw the trees on the banks dancing in the the haunting rhythm..

He could not resist and plunged head long.

He did not feel tired. He felt like Superman. He was cruising down and forging ahead like a torpedo. The stream had by now grown into a mighty river..

He saw the large waterfall coming ahead..He did not stop..

He surged..

He pushed..

He plunged..

From the edge, he flew into the calm depths down deep..

The water was then turning blue. He marveled at the giant mixing of the white and the blue. It looked like smoky clouds in the sky.. Only they were shifting and wave-like. They were a like gyre... Like a vortex.. And the haunting beats pushed him through the vortex.

There was neither here, nor there. Neither then, nor now. His eyes grew tired.

After what seemed like eternity, he saw through his droopy eyes a brown shape floating towards him. Though he felt tired, he also felt happy as he waited for the thing to come nearby. The shape soon morphed into a face. Then everything changed while he closed his eyes to embrace darkness..

When he woke up, he saw the pool instructor looking down at him with concern. "Are you alright??"

He turned to his side. He was lying on the poolside.

"What the hell were you doing there? You think you're some Olympic swimmer or what?" The pool instructor was scolding.

He slowly rose and sat up. Where was the river? The peaks? The white, the blue?....

Where was the music??

"What happened?" He asked out loud.

The pool instructor looked amazed. "What do you mean by what happened??" You were swimming non-stop and almost fainted in fatigue. I counted at least 12 laps by the time you slowed down. You looked too weak and senseless in the middle of the water and so I had to jump in." He wasn't letting up.

"You're still an amateur. Don't overdo it,okay? Take it one step at a time. Was that stunt really necessary?"

He thought about the tabla and mridangam.About the snow-white peaks and the stream. About the combat guitar and the upcoming waterfall...

"The music was good." he mumbled and smiled weakly.

When am I me???

5.00 am - 9.00 am - Age 95
9.00 am - 9.30 am - Age 27

9.30 am - 1.30 pm - Age 60
1.30 pm - 2.00 pm - Age 13
2.00 pm - 4.00 pm - Age 3
4.00 pm - 9.00 pm - Age 60
9.00 pm - 9.30 pm - Age 27
9.30 pm - 11.00 pm - Age 95
11.00 pm - 5.00 am - Who knows?? (I sleep coz I'm still single).

So how long do I stay my age in a day??

The elementary me...

Think I'm getting addicted to Paintbrush...a momentary surrender to vanity.. :-)

Next one..

Yet another painting..This one is a representation of a painting which I had seen on the cover of a twenty year-old Readers' Digest Magazine.. Don't know what the title is..

Two at the same time..

Gave in to the amateur painter in me.. A work in paintbrush on a lazy day in office...

The one burning in the pyre and in floating drowned in the stream are the same.. How it is possible? It's a koan in paint..so..