अमावस पर कविता

रौशनी मद्धिम है आज फिर शहर में,
हवा दीवारों से चोटें खा के चीखती है अँधेरे में।
शायद चाँद ने वापस धोखा किया है ……  अमावस ही है। ।


कुछ बिका नहीं आज बाज़ारों में,
रोशिनी की ही कीमत लगाई है लंगड़े बनिए ने।
व्यापारी सारे भारी ही लौटे हैं घरों में आज। ।

कुछ चौदह दिनों में ही रोशिनी यूं खर्ची है निगोड़े चाँद ने,
गोरी का आँगन अंधेर लगता है आज।
इतनी बेफिक्री से तो अनाज ना खर्चा हमने भूखे बच्चों पर.....

(अधूरी)

नौ ....

नौ बरसों से जूझ रही है नज़्म,
अकेली, अँधेरी रात में  … चुपचाप
जैसे सगरेट लड़ा करती है तेज़ हवाओं से ॥

दसवें बरस जब निखरेगी तो…
गीत बनेगी गोरी का ....
फिर लाल पहन कर आएगी

और उसके ही पाँव में ये पाजेब सजेगी।

Looking at the Bigger picture

P.S.: For the sake of complexity, big and bigger are used interchangeable in the post. If you do not understand this stop reading Right now. You are missing the big picture here....

The domain of consultancy and analytics can be a torment, especially for the semantically unaligned. The evolution of language has found new paradigms and undesirable effect on individuals who for example ‘Have to touch-base’ with someone they don’t want to ‘touch’ in the first place. And this is just ‘scratching the back’ I must tell you. Or ‘the tip of the iceberg’ on a cold windy night when all you want is to cuddle in a blanket and listen to Himesh sing ‘Tera Tera suroor’ amidst heavy thump and infinite jazz. Not the general ‘Jazz by the way/bay’ but the jazz which manifests itself in an all time favorite wedding song.. ‘Jheemi Jheemi Jheemi.. aaja..aaja…aaja.’… You get my point??

Of course you don’t. Because you are not looking at the bigger picture. Which brings me to the daddy of all corporate terminologies: ‘Looking at the bigger picture’

This is how a typical conversation with your superiors in the corporate world would go:

Mathematical Geek/Genius

MG: Boss. The R sq of the equation which models the rate at which ice cream melts in a room and Katrina Kaif’s presence in the same room along with a poster of Tushaar Kapoor in the other room is ~70%

Boss: That is not enough. Did you also look at the possibility of an added variability of ‘Malaika Arora’s Z-balm’??

MG:  But Boss, would not the Variable inflation factor be more than 4? They both ARE highly correlated..

Boss: Of course it will…

MG(cutting short): ..which beats the point of using Malaika in the equation then Sir… Katrina alone suffices for both.

Boss: See.. there you are missing the whole point. You are not looking at the bigger picture.

MG: I beg your pardon Sir.. but I am. I am probably looking at the biggest picture possible.. I have a 10X10 poster of Katrina doing a ‘Chikni Chameli’ in my apartment…

Boss: So you will not account for the variability and add Malaika in the equation…

MG: Mathematically?? No sir…

Boss: But you do realize that your client is Arbaaz Khan.. What will he use Katrina for anyway?? You see…  you have to think about all these parameters before coming to me with such presumptuous solutions. You need to parameterize the entire variable space and identify existing patterns which help Arbaaz run his ice cream factory next to Salman’s school of Chastisement and Virtue…

MG: No wonder Arbaaz is moving to producing of ice creams now….

So how exactly do you look at the bigger picture? Fear not my fellow corporates. After mining through loads and loads of data.. about the perimeter of Sonakshi’s forehead that forced me to use Big data paradigms, I have devised a 3 point plan which harnesses existing data patterns to enable your mathematical mind to harvest business acumen and not fail to spot, identify and even understand ‘THE BIG PICTURE’.

1    Never look at the Big picture directly: You can’t look at the big picture directly. No Sir!! That is not acceptable. The route to the big picture lies in magazines that teach you about the ‘5 most important foods that cut fat’, ‘7 things to ensure you are the most macho in a band of jazz players’ or ‘ 5 things you should never do while eating breakfast on the moon with a dolphin’s infant child, playing football in low gravity eco-space with a chimpanzee at the same time’.

Wait for a leeway into the knowledge space provided by hard working big picture enthusiasts. Read. Rehearse and then look away… you will gain visibility.

2       Understand the consumer: Now that you are done with your fancy analysis with shiny pies and cool bars, without getting fat or hungover…. You are on to the tricky part. What you need to understand that the output of any mathematical equation in the corporate world is composed on two components: the mathematical equation and the ‘big picture deviation’ (also called as error rate by sports enthusiasts). Getting the first part of the equation is easy. To get the remaining of the component you need to understand who your consumer is.

You need to gauge the frequency of your consumer’s bowels, find his favorite brand of constipation pills, his most preferred strip club and 5 strands of hair from his unborn child. Seems difficult? Wait till you get to the last part.

3    If a big picture does not exist, paint one: This involves breaking into your customer’s office, picking a brush and painting huge potraits from the stories ‘P.S.: I love you’ with the skill of a five year old and the adventure of Salman Khan’s virtue… Untainted..that is… Once you are done, they will be printing about this in the magazines all over.. then you move to Step 1.

P.S.: If you are unable to comprehend the intent of the article and got lost at R sq… you definitely did not get the big picture. Wait for my post on ‘How to look at the literature about ‘Looking at the Big picture’ ’. I am co-writing it with Chetan Bhagat. He is paying for the ink I spend. Also involved is a corporate firm predicting number of words I would write without making any sense… the current count is 884. 

Their Story - At the bar and after

"Can i just see you once tonight?" she inquired.

"Yes you can." he said. "You can see me tonight.
I will come alone in the glassy night.
Will usher a storm of broken twigs
and bring with it the strength of light.
You will be dazzled like sparrows are when they look straight into the sun ...alright
but you will see me Yes... You will see me tonight"

“You seem somberly poetic. What’s the matter ?” she retorted with an uneven baritone.

“Prose my dear, is such waste of words. Deemed to fail where sounds coerce,

Despite they stem from roots all same… words are words; (there’s) music in verse”

“So what makes the sky so blue and the blade’s green does color impart?

What evil does your head conjure? And what motions will your soul start?

..See I can play too…!!”. The heartless wench stood glorious. The sun shining in her pride.

“You complete me now.. I wish I could say..

Yet cautious is the path to love.. and beset with misgivings unknown to fools,

Though carries close two broken hearts;

Yet many a time it leads away”

“Ok! I know you like words. But this is really disturbing. So, let me be shameless and complete your verse.

You might like words and love you would

A grimly room with whiskey’s cup..

But I do swear to all my gods..

You sleep alone if you don’t ‘Shut the fuck up!!”

And he did.

***********

“The world, you see, is not trying to be saved. It wants to burn. Burn with rage and a mutiny so horrid with violence that all the water from the glaciers up north or all the tears from the widows of men won’t heal it. And believe you me, that day is not far.” She said as she downed the fourth shot of vodka.

He was taking it slow tonight.

“You seem overly poetic in prose tonight.”

“Well what would make you say so?”

“The fact that you took our moot point of global warming on our 43^rd date quite far. A possibility of a fire riot is kind of far fetched.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is.”

“Hmmm… so I guess the vodka is working. I feel free.” She sounded exalted.

“No.. honey.. what you feel is precisely a chemical condition where your heart betrays your mind… your brain does not like it one bit and triggers a biological reaction making your muscles weak there by restraining the heart’s wishes.. spiraling you in a maze of inner conflict and disillusioned self loathing which stems from your hatred for humanity in the first place… an argument which you would dismiss without considering one bit….” he stopped for a sip of his own drink.

She considered a bit. She dismissed. Then began:

“Funny thing.. coming from an alcoholic himself…. And back in our days people just called it ‘sloshed’…. And you being pedantic about your girlfriend drinking at an open bar about an event which supports kids from child abuse by alcoholic parents is a testimony to how full of shit you are…”

“You took it too far. The evening is over. I love you too much to pay heed to your rationality” he got up from the table in a hurry.

“Oh! Now you speak sense!!… What happens when the vacation is over? With me sulking over  you and you away rattling your time in a cold country, oceans apart… which by the way drinks booze like kids drink milk”

“Statistically speaking … not all kids love milk.. actually well below 45% kids in the united king…..”

“Oh! You can shove your stats and stats-fucking-company up your torrid tight ass”

He did. He loved her way too much to be rational with her. Rationality kills fantasy. Fiction dare not reside where reason lays its ass.

“Let me walk you home. You are drunk”

“You bet your ass I am. And you will be a gentleman and not take advantage of me”

“Do I bet my ‘torrid-tight-ass’ ?’ he smiled with a wink. She kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you” she said.

“I know you do.” He put his arm around her shoulder and carried her purse.

“Might I say that the purse looks astounding on you” her words lacked the cynicism of an avid drinker.

“No madam.. You look astounding on me.. the purse is just a collateral ornament”

She walked erratically. Joining imaginary dots on the road. He followed like a dog smitten with a bone.

She was drunk for the first time. He was not. It was a first too.

“So …wh…at happens…. when you go…………. away?” she asked in broken verse.

“We deal with it”

“How?”

“Like lovers do. Being honest and truthful” he spoke with an air of disillusionment.

“Fuck you” she swore at length.

“I know”

“That is not something to know. That is something to work on”

“I am on it. Your apartment is here”

“Come on in. Nehal would love to meet you.” She lingered.

“Really? It is 2 am. She would be fast asleep”

“You seem to know her sleep times quite well.. mister.. should I be suspicious?” she slapped him on the cheek and fell over in the exercise.

“Not after you know that statistically speaking, more than 80% of the human population sleeps by 2 am. It is called as routine” he held her hand and pulled her from the floor.

“Alright! She might be asleep. But come in for my sake… also.. did I not ask you to shove things up your torrid-tight-ass”

“What sake? You are drunk. You should sleep. Like the remaining 20% who are about to go to sleep in the next 30 mins.”

“That should be enough…” she whistled through the cold air.

A drunk eye winked. A hug was bought in compensation for a slap. A kiss was procured by promises made old by enthused clocks. An arm was held at an arm’s length. Words were spoken in soft hush of the night only to be engulfed by the dark. Ears failed. The eye would not see.

Motion ceased for an hour. Not all love stories deserved this.

“My flight leaves in 3 hours. I really need to go..” he talked to her hair.

No response came. The words reached her ears but did not register in her brain. Brain and heart had not made out since the 7^th shot.

Someone somewhere played a song. He laughed at the words…

John Denver adjusted his throat before he began singing from an old stereo…

’All my bags are packed.. I am ready to go..

……..’

She woke up after 5 mins. Alone.

“Don’t..” she said, incapacitated by the slumber. Half asleep, half mourning the last 15 mins lost in oblivion. She slept on the floor that night.

He did not sleep at all….

(..to be continued)