ArpitGarg's Weblog

An opinion of the world around me

Archive for January 2010


with 2 comments

This is one of my first poems. Wrote it long time back.
During the phase when students bear huge burden of expectations on their back.

Why the life is so heavy,
Like an encumbrance to levy.
Challenges pouring in every hour,
Like thorns of a rose flower.
Which smells good,
But stings like wood.
Pressure building on all sides.
Not a moment to lay beside.
Like a complicated preparation of glycene,
With everyone so keen,
To uncover the unseen.
I think how good it had been,
If worries were not known and I with my fairy queen,
Striding along the path of my life,
Free from all strife.
No feeling to outshine others,
But a mind to follow,
And sooth others like a pillow.
With feeling of communism,
Sounding everywhere like,

Written by arpitgarg

January 31, 2010 at 7:42 am

Posted in Literary

Tagged with , , , , , , ,

Smell of blood

with 3 comments

Chukk…Chukk…Chukk…Chukk…Thud!…Silence…Realization…Rush…Bachao…Bachao…Wait…Relief… Compensation…Chukk…Chukk…Chukk…Chukk

If one asks you, how many train mishaps took place in the country last month? You wouldn’t be able to answer, leave aside naming the trains involved. Like most other Indians, I am a regular train traveler and a keen one too. Even amidst the stats of two accidents taking place daily, neither do I change my travel plans, quiet frankly, nor can I afford to.

Only when it hits you close enough that you come to feel it. A train rammed into another during the heavy fog. I read the news and turned the page over as routine. It’s only when I found out that a dear friend of mine was on the same train that I became anxious. Now he is a guy who is least bit affected by such things. “These things happen”, is his attitude. But something he experienced that day forced him to change his outlook. A newfound respect for life, perhaps. He wouldn’t admit this, so no point drooling over.

According to him a real accident site is nothing that we witness in movies and quite far from the well shot clips that run through news channels. The sense of shock can’t be explained. It’s the state of cluelessness. It takes time to gather the composure. You fear to get down at first, not knowing if it’s a terrorist attack, an accident or some alien invasion. Such is the mental state. People start reciting Holy Scriptures.

If you are the one who would get down to take stock of the situation, you might see some smoke and dust at the rear of the train. The closer you get to the injured bogies, the more anxious you become. The smell of dust and sand gets strong and so does the crowd. You come near the huddle where people are trying to help the injured. You sense a smell which is intoxicatingly nauseating. What is this smell? You wonder. It strikes you just as you near an overturned and smashed bogey. It’s the smell of fresh human blood and raw human meat.

You see a wailing mother whose child is stuck inside. You can’t help her. You are struck by a feeling of sheer helplessness. There are scenes you would have never wished to see. Somewhat similar to the ones you might have heard from doctors working in emergency ward. The ripped open stomach, cracked bone, crushed skull and hanging leg (only leg and nothing else). All this and the intoxicating smell. The head feels dizzy.

You witness a whole new world. Everyone becomes a family; tries to save as many lives as possible. Consolations…Water…Medicines are collected from everybody aboard. Anyone who had had a doctor in the family becomes one today.  And Ah! no help from the authorities still. You see a bogey which is crushed to half with no way to pull the people out. Near it, you see a person, who in lieu of helping, try to pickpocket the unconscious and you feel no strength to confront him.

When the help arrives, you find the authorities helping the AC coaches first followed by reserved ones followed by general ones. The worst part of it is that nobody cares. Such deeply engraved is the class system into our psyches that we don’t see any wrong in what is being done. Neither do AC coach people feel embarrassed, nor do general coach people complain. Within few hours the train departs.

Witnessing death from that close tends to turn you towards faith. You vow to enjoy each and every second of your life from then on. After sometime you forget and it becomes a part of your documented memory.

Written by arpitgarg

January 27, 2010 at 2:48 pm

Chatur Speech in Hindi: 3 Idiots

with 10 comments

आदरणीय सभापति महोदय, अतिथि विशेष शिक्षण मंत्री श्री आर. डी. त्रिपति [त्रिपाठी] जी, माननीय शिक्षकगण और मेरे पियारे [प्यारे] सहपतियो [सहपाठियों]| आज अगर I.C.E आसमान की बुलांदियो [बुलंदियों] को छू राहा [रहा] है, तो उसका श्रेय सिर्रफ [सिर्फ] एकिंसान [एक इंसान] को जाता है, श्री वीरू सहस्त्र बुद्धे| Give him a a big hand . He is a great guy really .

पिछले बत्तीस साल से इन्होने निरंतर इस कॉलेज में बलत्कार [बलात्कार] पे बलत्कार किये, उम्मीद है आगे बी [भी] करते रहेगे [रहेंगे ]| हमें तो आश्चर्य होता है कि एक इंसान अपने जीवन काल में इतनी बलत्कार कैसी कर सकता है| इन्होने कड़ी तपस्या से अपने आपको इस काबिल बुनाया [बनाया ] है| वक़्त का सही उपयोग, घंटे का पूर्ण इस्तेमाल कोई इनसे सीके [सीखे ]| सीके, इनसे सीके| आज हम सब छात्र यहाँ हैं, कल देश-विदेश में फेल [फैल] जायेंगे| वादा है आपसे जिस देश में होंगे वहां बलत्कार करेंगे| I.C.E का नाम रोशन करेंगे| दिका [दिखा] देंगे सबको जो बलत्कार करने की शमता यहाँ के छात्रों में है वो संसार के किसी छात्रों में नहीं| No other छात्र,  No other छात्र|

आदरणीय मंत्रीजी नमस्कार, आपने इस संस्थान को वो चीस [चीज़] दी जिसकी हमें सख्त ज़रुरत थी| स्तन! स्तन होता सबी [सभी] के पास है, सब छुपा के रकते है, देता कोई नई [नहीं]| आपने अपना स्तन इस बलत्कारी पुरुष के हाथ में दिया है| अब देकिये यह कैसा इसका उपयोग करता है|

इस स्वर्ण अवसर पर एक श्लोक याद आ रहे है…

उत्तमम दधददात पादम,
मध्यम पादम थुचुक थुचुक,
घनिष्ठः थुड़थुडी पादम,
सुरसुरी प्राण घातकम|

Written by arpitgarg

January 7, 2010 at 3:12 pm

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