Mentor Yogi

The Sound of Departing Train Hello Cheerleaders (Cheerleaders? What are you even saying? It have to be solid!) Hello Comrades and my sworn brotherhoods and sisterhoods (Man, you really have no idea how to do it.) Hello (Shit! He never let me do it my way) How are you all? I’m fine by the way. The end of the year, as you have realized by now, is here. And you know what, it doesn’t matter much. Hell, why a change in numbers going to matter. It’s like change in our age. (What? Are you crazy? Age matters, bhai) OK my bad, I take it back, age matters. But why should a change in year should matter? Let’s try it the other way. Why do you think God matters? Is it because he exists in real? Who knows. Or is it that we need someone who gave us hope? The correct answer is belief. It matters because we think it matters. Belief is a powerful thing, without it we will be screwed thoroughly. This is because of belief that we are living in such a stable world -- believe in Constitution, in parliament,...

September Winds September, clutching to the iron rod sitting at the edge on a tempo roof as the vehicle rolls steadily and slowly - like a mesmerised ox - over the thick black road under the cover of tall eucalyptus tree, which are standing to either side of the road like royal soldiers escorting the regal procession. Green fields stretching as long as the eyes can see. The refreshing air. So - Village again.  The tempo was nearing the edge of Ramala and was picking up speed abruptly. The driver was in a foul mood particularly because half a dozen youngsters from Ramala had not only refused to pay him even a single rupee but also had spoken tersely with him. You can tell the intensity of burning rage inside him by the groan of the tempo's engine - now it was groaning like a mad bull.  Once the tempo get past Ramala, a soft music began to flow from someone's Nokia handset at full volume, "Suhana safar aur yeah mausam sahi" - this old time hit golden era song, never fai...

  In The Dark Dark marking the depth of night, stillness assuring its longevity, and stars its nakedness, while street lights marking the limit of its reign.  Through the specialized night vision floating hypothetical eyes and with an animal's hearing we scanned the world around us. The village beneath is all quiet and still, but alive like a hibernating animal in a deep sleep. Highway in the North, and not too broad road circling around the rest three directions marking the Amoebic shape of the village. Streets like arteries are stretching to the ends of the boundaries while some are disappearing within like capillaries. Midnight has approached and the village is all hushed and seem to be in a mysterious deep sleep.   Floating in the dark sea like a fish in the air, somewhere inside the thicket of black sheet, although the thicket of black sheet isn't the thing we needed to camouflage our presence since we have no material presence at all: no body, no sense, no noth...