Time and tide waits for none. Yet i feel like grounded in time with all the hassels. I am down but not out? I cannot say for sure. But it is sure that I am far behind the time and cannot race with time. So, time has trampled me under its speed and force.

The day is passing as time is passing. Every passing day numbers my days. Are the days numbered? I count and I keep on counting, counting the number of days passing me every now and then. I keep guessing what is in store for me. I keep guessing what will befall on me in the end. Will it oust me with a joust of fear and freedom?

What happens when the days are numbered. I do not know, I do not know. I do not know what is in store for me if the days are numbered for me. For me only? Not for anybody else? Or, is it for everybody else that the bell keeps on tolling?

Only I know that the days are numbered. Whose days are numbered? Whose days are passing on? Is it mine? Is it me whose days are numbered? Life counts the days. And death counts the days. They keep on counting, counting the number of days.

They assure me and I remain assured. I remain assured. I remain assured of my long waiting. Long waiting for the Godo? Godo never comes. He only goes, he never comes. He keeps me waiting. I remain waiting . Waiting and assured.

Godo will come one day. One day he will come, sure. I remain assured and waiting. The bell tolls. I keep waiting, waiting and assured. For whom the bell tolls? It is for me. For me. No, it is for everybody. Everybody is concerned. Everybody is concerned about the lashings of time. Time beats it hard and cruelly.

Time is a cruel monster.

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The juggernaut of development rolls on all over the world. In line with this trend development has become a catchword and craze in this country in recent times. Everyone is talking about development with a bit of euphoria and everywhere it is being discussed. Media is giving as much publicity. As if development is a mantra by which this poor land might become rich overnight. Rich it will be, no doubt about that. But who will be rich? Only rich will be richer by a few notches. But we cannot say for sure whether the fate of the hapless poor people will be changed for the better or whether their pathetic lives will be raised by a few notches.

But nobody asks that most pertinent question which is: For whom the development is at all? And what kind of development is it really? Who will be benefited ultimately? And in the long run?

In the name industrialization, thousands, or rather lakhs of acres of both farm and non-farm land are being acquired depriving lakhs of people of their livelihood and evicting them from their habitats. Will these people get benifitted at all?

In reality, development never spreads amongst the people whose lots urgently require upheaval. but outcome of the so-called development remains confined in the realms of a privileged few. And it has remained and it will remain. Nobody can wishfully stem that rot.

If we carefully observe the course of development, we will see that the rich becomes richer and the poor poorer. Those who have much get much more and those who have less become the more lesser beings. One more thing that generally escapes attention is that development gradually putts paid to the limited stock of natural resources and it also consumes at the cost of ecological balances. And what fruits do development bear? Some imputed needs of consumer durables.

Only some benefits trickle down to the poor people which proponents of development boast of. If the benefits do not spread among the most needy, we should never call it a development. Proper development should equally distributed. But that is not to be.

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Let me have a sleep on your soft voice
I will sing a song of flying white wings
You give me a silence of peace
I will show you a sea of seasonless shadow.

The shadow that falls at your feet
It never calls for an unbound freedom
I and you will go swimming across our soul.

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It is a long way forward
Waves of storm have spread fire and fumes
Light has extinguished all on a sudden
Nobody is breathing in leisure
Nobody has left home
At this melancholiac hour outside
How far will you go?
Where will you go now?
The birds are clapping their wings, rain will not come
Who will hold your breath in cloudless night
The sky is not moistened with clouds,
What will happen, the storm is stopping?

Wherever you go, birds will not fly
Who will follow your footsteps?
Have a look at the window, it never glows
Have a look at the flower, it never flushes in rage
The dog barks at you, where will you go?
The sea will not take you to the isle of fortune
The clouds will not sing glory to you
They have stopped with the storms
How will you go? How far will you go?

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Worship, worship. O the candleman!
Let the sparkling candle give you ample light
To fight out the canopy of veiled darkness
Darkness has overcome you with white shroud
Who will discover the rhythm of your befuddled existence,
Who will light the pyre of your blindness?

You are your own maker, you are your own destroyer
Life is calling you to take charge of the mantle
War has devastated everything around you
You clean up the ghosts of ruins
Why will you be left behind in the battle of rights?
What are you worshipping for?
Who are you worshipping to?
Not all quiet on the battle-front
Can you not hold aloft your candle
To show the way to others at this time of overkill?
Win this last battle, win all over
Let your worshipping be for all
Let your prayers be heard by every mortal soul
It is time for go on hunting
Do not let your candle be extinguished.

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Discover yourself, O the veiled woman! Where is your foothold? Everything seems to be carrying along you. Not touching you, not breathing you. Look forward to the oceanic sky calling you in stormy silence. Look backward to the life you have treaded on, life seems to be standing still like your self-existence. Your essence too seems to have lost you in the mid-way of time and essence. Burst out your anger and there will be rain.

What are whispering in your veiled silence? Are you wayward in your long jorney? The journey will not end in smokes. Look up and down. Walk and walk in cheers and jeers to all and everything. Why are you shy of life and death. Life and death are the rules of the game. Follow life, follow death. And you will reach your ultimate destiny.

Love life, love all souls. Lovingly you will be accepted to one and all. It is a long journey, a long way to go. Then again you will be reborn in a flux of time. Discover yourself and you will be on the path of salvation. If you want to salvage your pride and glory, discover yourself. You will on the path of salvation. Your salvation is too close and yet too far. You walk and walk blindfolded but you cannot reach the shore.

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