Painful Wait

For the first time in my life, I’m nervous and desperately waiting for the result of an exam. The result of my CA Final (second group) exam. I’ve thought about it every-bloody-day since the 15th of June – the day of the last paper.

When I was in class X, some cynical moron in my class had fed me the propaganda that a class X scorecard is of no use in future years except for the purpose of a person’s birth date. The only effort that I made, hence, in the class X boards, was to have my birth date printed correctly on the scorecard.

When I was in class XII, I wanted to get around 85% in the board exams since (thanks to my pessimism which was then in its adolescent years) I thought I’d never get into a great grad college, a.k.a. SRCC. I studied for 85% and got the same.

When I had joined CA, in the first exam, P.E.1, in 2004, I knew that I’d get through if I pass (get 40 marks) in the last paper, ‘Organization & Management and Business Communication’. Despite being an efficiently unorganized, magnificently unmanaged person with profound miscommunication skills, I scored 60 and passed.

When I gave my P.E.2 exams in 2005, I had messed up one paper in each group. So I knew before hand that I’d fail in both groups: I talked about it like Morpheus talks about The Prophecy. Fortunately, the institute was on a passing spree (thanks to the beginning of the ‘boom’ in the economy then) and I successfully managed to wash my hands in one group in the all-sin-cleansing Ganges of high-percentage pass results.

When I re-appeared in P.E.2 in 2006 for the one group I failed in 2005, I was not prepared at all. I somehow managed to bullshit in all the subjects in the three papers, and once again, thanks to the Institute’s economic boom-fulfilling results, my mediocre academic efforts were not exposed to the world.

So far as the first group of CA Final goes, I was depressed and in a shameful position. I gave the exam just because I knew I had to fail, because I knew I probably even deserved it. I bullshitted in all the papers in high-quality, confusing English, and to this date, I do not know why and how I passed: I was lucky? I had tons of blessings of my family and friends? I had worn the same underwear for eight days straight? I don’t know.

But this time it is different. I do not desire to fail; I am desperate to pass. I just wish to get over with it, get away from it, and not go back to it. Saala, not a day goes by when I don't think of what the result would be and if I’d get a job thereafter; what kind of a job will I get if I do get one after I pass; will I get an okay job even if I fail; will I pass in my next attempt. I’m fed up of the exam nightmares I've been having night after night. I'm fed up of waking up with the thought that I'd fail and would have to give the last exam all over again. I’m fed up of everybody at home telling everybody in this world that I’d be a CA in August. And I’m disgusted with myself for under-performing: there are two papers in which I attempted for only 70 marks out of 100 and two in which I wrote only for 85 marks! Am I a fucking retard? What was I doing, jerking off in the examination hall?

The truth, put very simply, is that I see no way out of this mess if I do not get through this time. I could almost see myself spiraling in a vicious circle of successive failures hereafter. God – if there exists one – bless me.

Sunday Shers #3

1.
काँप उठती हूँ मैं ये सोच के तन्हाई में,
मेरे चेहरे पे तेरा नाम न पढ़ ले कोई।
परवीन शाकिर

Kaanp uthti hoon main ye soch ke tanhaai mein,
Mere chehre pe tera naam na padh le koi.
Parveen Shaakir

2.
किसी किसी को ही शोहरत नसीब होती हैं,
हर आदमी को ये औरत कहाँ बुलाती हैं।
मुनव्वर राना

Kisi kisi ko hi shohrat naseeb hoti hain,
Har aadmi ko ye aurat kaha bulaati hain.
Munavvar Rana

3.
जितनी बँटनी थी बँट चुकी ये ज़मी,
अब तो बस आसमान बाकी हैं।
राजेश रेड्डी

Jitni batni thi bat chuki ye zamee,
Ab to bas aasmaan baaki hain.
Rajesh Reddy

4.
इन्ही रास्तों ने जिन पर कभी तुम थे साथ मेरे,
मुझे रोक-रोक पूछा तेरा हमसफ़र कहाँ हैं।
बशीर बद्र

Inhi raaston ne jin par kabhi tum the saath mere,
Mujhe rok rok poochha tera hamsafar kaha hain.
Basheer Badr

5.
दुनिया की सैर करने को ठहरे नही हैं हम,
दम ले लिया हैं मंज़िले-दुशवार देख कर।
अख्तर शीरानी

Duniya ki sair karne ko thehre nahi hain hum,
Dum le liya hain manzile-dushvaar dekh kar.
Akhtar Sheeraani

Silent Brawl

By the time I was on the third step, I knew I couldn’t pull it up any further: the suitcase was unbearably heavy for my fleshless hands. But I towed it as strongly as I could, until I reached the platform where I could see the train lay posed in front of me like a dead whale. I put the monstrous blue suitcase down just beside the edge of the last step. My fault.

He was carrying a huge, bulbous, heavy carry-bag in his hands with all the weight balancing on his stomach. Like a kangaroo would carry its baby. He limped on to the stairs with the precarious expression of an eight-month-triplet-pregnant woman who couldn’t look at her feet. The straps of the bag hung on its sides. He sighed as soon as he reached the edge of the last step. His fault.

He took a step. And his feet hit the blue wall.

The suitcase knocked down like a slab sliced from a brick of bread. He fell down like a drummer with his drums hung in his neck.

At that precise moment, when our eyes met, I gave him the look of wanting to pick him up and punch him with my naked hands till my knuckles and his face bled, till I saw a gaping hole between his teeth, till I saw him gurgling blood.

And at the same precise moment, when our eyes met, he gave me the look of wanting to get up and kick me right between my legs with his rock-hard knee and quashing my balls so hard that they’d burst and I’d piss blood.

But I went up to him, picked him up and smiled.

He smiled back.

Sunday Shers #2

1.
कौनसी बात कहाँ कैसे कही जाती हैं,
ये सलीक़ा हो तो हर बात सुनी जाती हैं।
- वसीम बरेलवी

Kaunsi baat kaha kaise kahi jaati hain,
Ye saleeka ho to har baat suni jaati hain.
- Wasim Barelvi


2.
कल की बात और हैं मैं अब-सा रहू या न रहू,
जितना जी चाहे तेरा आज सता ले मुझको।
- क़तील शिफाई

Kal ki baat aur hain main ab-sa rahoo ya na rahoo,
Jitna jee chahe tera aaj sata le mujhko
- Qateel Shifai


3.
ज़िन्दगी हम तेरे दागों से रहे शर्मिंदा,
और तू हैं के सदा आईनाखाने मांगे।
- अहमद फ़राज़

Zindagi hum tere daaghon se rahe sharminda,
Aur tu hain ke sada aaeena-khaane maange.
- Ahmad Faraz


4.
तरक्की कर गए बीमारियों के सौदागर,
ये सब मरीज़ हैं जो अब दवाए करने लगे।
- राहत इन्दौरी

Tarakki kar gaye beemaariyon ke saudaagar,
Ye sab mareez hain jo ab dawaaye karne lage.
- Rahat Indori


5.
परिंदे सहमे हुए हैं दरख्त खौफज़दा,
ये किस इरादे से घर से निकल रही हैं हवा।
- परवीन शाकिर

Parinde sahme hue hain darakht khaufzada,
Ye kis iraade se ghar se nikal rahi hain hawa.
- Parveen Shakir

Sunday Shers #1

1.
अब के जो फ़ैसला होगा वो यही पर होगा,
हमसे अब दूसरी हिजरत नही होने वाली।
- राहत इंदौरी

Ab ke jo faislaa hoga wo yaheen par hoga,
Humse ab doosri hijrat nahi hone wali.
- Rahat Indori


2.
ग़म बयाँ करने का कोई और ढंग ईजाद कर,
तेरी आँखों का ये पानी तो पुराना हो गया।
- वसीम बरेलवी

Gham bayaa karne ka koi aur dhang eejaad kar,
Teri aankhon ka ye paani to puraana ho gaya.
- Wasim Barelvi


3.
ऐसा लगता हैं हर इम्तिहा के लिए,
जिंदगी को हमारा पता याद हैं।
- बशीर बद्र

Aisa lagta hain har imtihaa ke liye,
Zindagi ko hamaara pata yaad hain.
- Basheer Badr

Nazm: Baadbani Kashti

I wrote this a few weeks ago with an image in my head: a solitary, dilapidated dinghy floating aimlessly in the vast expanse of an ocean in the night. When you stay awake for most part of the night, silent and brooding, with a chaos in your head that cannot mostly be spilled on paper, this is the kind of stuff you usually see. And, if I consider all the other images that I see, all this is hardly depressing.

The prose is as pathetic as it always is, and obviously there's no sense to it. I'm posting it here and forgetting about it. I can puke and puke and puke and puke over the poetry I write: I find it that bad. And they say practice makes one perfect.

नज़्म: बादबानी कश्ती

रात के सियाह, बे-इंतहा समंदर में,
थका हुआ मैं,
इक टूटी हुई बादबानी कश्ती की मानिंद,
बे-सबब, बे-सिम्त तैरता रहता हूँ।

मैं नाचीज़,
ना तो ये समंदर पार कर सकता हूँ,
ना ही इसमे डूब कर,
क़ैद- ए-हयात से रिहाई पा सकता हूँ।

***

Nazm: Baadbani Kashti

Raat ke siyaah, be-inteha samandar mein,
Thaka hua main,
Ek tooti hui baadbaani kashti ki maanind,
Be-sabab, be-simt tairta rehta hoon.

Main naacheez,
Naa to ye samandar paar kar sakta hoon,
Naa to isme doobkar,
Qaid-e-hayaat se rihaayi paa sakta hoon.

Momentary Rage

I stood there
alone
in the park
among benches
and trees;
amid
colourful flowers
and floating butterflies.

I didn’t care
the least
about the bloody
flowers
and butterflies
and other park-shit.

My eyes
bore
into the sight
of the two
hiding
fondling
behind the bushes.

Him inside her tee,
him inside her mouth.

I wanted
to kill
them both.


P.S. Yes, I agree. It's a very lame attempt at imitating Charles Bukowski.