Monday, December 1, 2008
The 5 Star Blasts
Stopped at the Lawrence & Mayo stop on the D.N.Road CST I was told to leave my bus and turn away from the CST station from where I wanted to return home after my visit to Colaba Causeway, Leopold & Marine Drive. It was a confusing situation but I reached Churchgate station and finally reached home (long story short). All the while I was told by my family and friends about what was happening around the parts of Mumbai where I had just been and admired, out of awe for its grandeur, its hustle bustle & its beauty at night, and couldn’t really guage how far reaching effect it would have on me for a long long time.
My home had become a bastion for the entire news channels to telecast to me every detail of the on going process, analysis, stories of survivors, of slain protectors & limelight seeking politicians. It was an orgy of death that made me cringe every time I saw it happen. Three days it felt like the world around has stopped rotating, no jumping VJs, no motor mouth RJs, no kids on the street, no crowds in the trains, no hawkers shouting outside only TV which gave us some sort of a solace that something is been done to whoop the asses of those mfb terrorists. The TV viewing or more like News channels viewing had become synonyms for these 3 days. Times when my father left for work at RBI which unfortunately was very close to Taj Mahal Hotel family members called when some stupid rumors were afloat. This somehow became a drill for all of us at home and didn’t feel extra ordinary and I don’t know why.
The news anchors spoke for hours in length about the operations and it felt like I was personally standing a t the door of those 5 stars and was watching the events unfold. All the news channels showed us different views, different commentaries but a single message that ‘We are under siege’. I cant begin to explain how it feels when there is a element of doubt about safety of the people around me. It is a feeling of helplessness that engulfs me and want to run away from it. I can watch the news but I cant imagine to go through the same, I can voice my anger but cant really do much to make a difference, I can feel sad for the loss but couldn’t have saved them… I really want to break out of feeling of being helpless & useless.
‘I let governing & protecting of my country & its men to these politicians, but they seem to think their own protection is what is my concern of top priority’. Why is it that power corrupts these people beyond repair? I feel that the its to some extent that you are corrupt, its even ok that you sometime put yourself before the people but not always, don’t forget why you sit there in the first place.
- Ketan Kasabe
My home had become a bastion for the entire news channels to telecast to me every detail of the on going process, analysis, stories of survivors, of slain protectors & limelight seeking politicians. It was an orgy of death that made me cringe every time I saw it happen. Three days it felt like the world around has stopped rotating, no jumping VJs, no motor mouth RJs, no kids on the street, no crowds in the trains, no hawkers shouting outside only TV which gave us some sort of a solace that something is been done to whoop the asses of those mfb terrorists. The TV viewing or more like News channels viewing had become synonyms for these 3 days. Times when my father left for work at RBI which unfortunately was very close to Taj Mahal Hotel family members called when some stupid rumors were afloat. This somehow became a drill for all of us at home and didn’t feel extra ordinary and I don’t know why.
The news anchors spoke for hours in length about the operations and it felt like I was personally standing a t the door of those 5 stars and was watching the events unfold. All the news channels showed us different views, different commentaries but a single message that ‘We are under siege’. I cant begin to explain how it feels when there is a element of doubt about safety of the people around me. It is a feeling of helplessness that engulfs me and want to run away from it. I can watch the news but I cant imagine to go through the same, I can voice my anger but cant really do much to make a difference, I can feel sad for the loss but couldn’t have saved them… I really want to break out of feeling of being helpless & useless.
‘I let governing & protecting of my country & its men to these politicians, but they seem to think their own protection is what is my concern of top priority’. Why is it that power corrupts these people beyond repair? I feel that the its to some extent that you are corrupt, its even ok that you sometime put yourself before the people but not always, don’t forget why you sit there in the first place.
- Ketan Kasabe
Pulsation
Pulsation
(A periodically recurring phenomenon that alternately increases and decreases some quantity)
Live like a stranger in this known street,
We all walk n we all dream,
Yet next guy with big dreams is a brag fest.
Leaving each day with a small mark to remember,
But too many marks there to remember.
See the troubles come through all our fortified walls I wonder,
What it takes and is it real to build them.
Learn lesson n forget them is one of our great virtues,
Not that I want to forget every single one,
Yet when the sunsets mind lights with plans for the sunrise.
Seeking a divine intervention from the so called earthly know-all’s
While letting the grey feed to a box with conditional access.
Reaching to the old n young with a same tool but different tones,
For they both refuse to grow up.
Leading conceding & back stabbing is the call for the day,
Yet no one claims to shout this on roof tops.
Concern for own is on top n others flushed down everyday with shit.
Travel n be wise but not most o time it is otherwise.
Darkness gives new lights to crevices in ones brain.
Standing alone on a path u later claim to have gotten support for
Hypocrisy & lies in all our veins like pulsation
- Ketan Kasabe
(A periodically recurring phenomenon that alternately increases and decreases some quantity)
Live like a stranger in this known street,
We all walk n we all dream,
Yet next guy with big dreams is a brag fest.
Leaving each day with a small mark to remember,
But too many marks there to remember.
See the troubles come through all our fortified walls I wonder,
What it takes and is it real to build them.
Learn lesson n forget them is one of our great virtues,
Not that I want to forget every single one,
Yet when the sunsets mind lights with plans for the sunrise.
Seeking a divine intervention from the so called earthly know-all’s
While letting the grey feed to a box with conditional access.
Reaching to the old n young with a same tool but different tones,
For they both refuse to grow up.
Leading conceding & back stabbing is the call for the day,
Yet no one claims to shout this on roof tops.
Concern for own is on top n others flushed down everyday with shit.
Travel n be wise but not most o time it is otherwise.
Darkness gives new lights to crevices in ones brain.
Standing alone on a path u later claim to have gotten support for
Hypocrisy & lies in all our veins like pulsation
- Ketan Kasabe
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