A Tale of Two Lakes

High Hopes and Super Size Me

High Hopes

To wake you on a lazy weekend morning

Bilqis – Rabbi Shergill (2008)

Mera naam Bilqis Yakub Rasool
Mujhse hui bas ek hi bhool
Ki jab dhhundhhte thhe vo Ram ko
To maen kharhi thhi rah mein

Pehle ek ne puchha na mujhe kuchh pata thha
Dujey ko bhi mera yehi javab thha
Fir itno ne puchha ki mera ab saval hai ki

Jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kahan the
Jinhe naaz hai vo kahan hain

Mera naam shriman Satyendra Dubey
Jo kehna thha vo keh chukey
Ab parhey hain rah mein
Dil mein liye ik goli

Bas itna kasur ki hamne likha thha
Vo sach jo har kisi ki zuban thha
Par sach yahan ho jatey hain zahriley

Jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kahan the
Jinhe naaz hai vo kahan hain

Mujhe kehte hain anna Manjunath
Maine dekhi bhatakti ek laash
Zamir ki beech sarhak Lakhimpur Kherhi

Adarsh phasan jahan naaron mein
Aur chor bharey darbaron mein
Vahan maut akhlaq ki hai ik khabar baasi

Jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kahan hain
Jinhe naaz hai vo kahan hain

Mazha nau aahe Navleen Kumar
Unnees june unnees var
Unnees unnees unnees unnees
Unnees vaar

Unnees unnees unnees unnees
Unnees unnees unnees unnees
Unnees unnees unnees unnees
Unnees vaar

Looto dehaat kholo bazaar
Nallasopara aur Virar
Chheeno zameen hamse hamein
Bhejo pataal

Jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kahan hain
Jinhe naaz hai vo kahan hain

Indeed, vo kahan hai?

Check one of the best Indian singles in recent years. The most telling part of the song is right at the end. Civil rights and activism in India is abysmally lacking. And no, it is not okay to say it is “relatively better” than Sub-saharan Africa/Middle East countries.

CW’s War and Angels & Demons

Charlie Wilson’s War

And all the joy within you dies

three nights ago
under a fading moon
sailed my friend and his mentor

‘why are we here?’
inquired my friend

‘to talk and to hear’
smiled the mentor, asking
‘how are you?’

‘hollow, sir
i read, none the more wiser
i talk, to no one’s gain
i know
no small thrills
no little joys
no tiny fears

fond of others,
not loving
logical and sharp,
i cut others to size

i wake up
to sleep
i sleep
hoping not to wake up

i understand
without sympathy
i understand
without pathos

i follow
refusing to lead
i proclaim
unwilling to be told

i am the king
of all that i command
yet i command little
but for two shoes
and a vest’

so despaired,
so despaired
my friend.

the mentor,
grave as the night
responded

‘how we wonder about death
in our curious years,
obsessing over its mysteries,
asking how is it everyone,
every one of us
faces death whenever
it dawns?

yet age and time
readies you for it,
for what is not
a man like you,
if not dying?

my friend,
you
no longer
have the romance
in your heart

the spark that lights
your day
has faded

and so has the life
within your soul

a man devoid of romance
is a man dead, my friend’