Rohit Sharma

Shiva is agitated. He was being woken up from his deep meditative state. After years, he mated with the gorgeous looking Parvati. It was a cosmic resonance. The pleasure was immeasurable. It went for the whole night. They made tremendous love to eachother. Shiva has got seriously engulfed by his desire. He wants Parvati again. But there is no trace of her. She is not to be found. Caught with the dillemma of future penance and emotional upheaval, she has got into hiding. Shiva is wondering in the forests, skies & oceans and calling the name of his mate. All the animals in the jungle are scared. The ash soaked body of Shiva is lightening with the fire of longing. His linga is hard and wants to be rubbed. It wants to go inside parvati. It's the month of Monsoon. Chilled air is flowing above the Earth surface. Every now and then, tumultuous clouds gather dark in the sky and hold everything at a standstill. They roar and pour heavy. There is no limit. Shiva sees no boundary. He is w...

These hills around are not devious. They neither hide. Its simplicity is as well not that easy to understand, is it? The temple is an open rock structure. It is perspired by sun glares, morning & regular afternoon. At night, dark befalls the sorrounding. Throughout the long day, sparse traffic to-and-fro keep hitting the road. Inside the periphery, there are trees of variety. Donning a white dhoti and a loose upperwear shawl, a quiet thin-looking gentleman could not be seen more calm. Time stands before him, in unrolled butterfly. He does not count his age. No belongings, but all that exists in thoughts and good faith, many wonder. As desireless he can be, he is not a keeper. A devotee, but of what god? Shree Hanuman sparks inside an open garbhagriha, holding a huge mountain in his hand. Some people call the person as baba, some just call him sadhuji. Few roadbikes stopped days ago and took several images of him. They had politely asked for permission. It's not a nuisance. It...

The night was playing. It’s past 1 AM. It’s a weekend. The first ticks of Saturday had begun. A week has just passed. Several other such weeks had similarly passed. What remained the most awaited hours of the week? These few silent hours of the kind nights, if only one is not tired enough to actually meet them. But today, I had met them. The hours were before me. I had an unfinished book in my hand. I had been reading it ever since I had gulped the dinner down my throat. First, I hid beneath one of the staircases of the building and quietly went through twenty pages unblinkingly. That was the first meet with the long-gone friend — a self, this solitude around me, this beautiful book in my hand, and this quiet night.. The air had been calmer when I restarted again. The city is fast asleep. Yeah. What the hell with this city. How the hell I ended up here. These questions are so naughty. One rarely finds oneself observing the breath entering and leaving the lungs. Like many Indian cities,...

Few days back I was interacting with someone who got interviewed online by a startup founder. He had mentioned about his living at Mumbai to which the founder flagged a cautious note of sympathy and potioned a brief good luck, "All the best living Mumbai". It's not so strange as it sounded to the interviewee who got recently shifted here. As the office downtime starts and we get to the heavily chorded highways while slowly driving our vehicles, I observe random ambulances chasing the breath, trying to find a sordid corner to get past, and it continues till the end of the traffic river which flows at no pace at all. Today I was accompanied by two such ambulances, one to the left, another at the right. The loud sirens of both the vehicles echoes in resonance and still they moved as slowly as the rest of us. On my 45 minutes ride home, I was with them for 30 minutes or so. I wonder how does the siren helps..  Maybe there should be a city-specific solution, more in depth acro...

This is the center of the marketplace in my native town. The man is a street hawker who is selling kid's play items. The picture is taken one day after the Diwali night. Almost the whole market was closed but in this one place, few food shops were grouped. While eating the Paani-puri there, I had this intriguing gaze put at the flying balloons. I have seen that in small towns during the festives, there are certain traditional days (pareva) where markets are shut and people do not move out much. In big cities, this is not much cared for due to the cosmopolitan behavior of the city.  Anyway, I was checking several posts related to a coconut seller reducing the prices of the coconuts and same time advertising in the cardboard that he is selling at a lesser price than Q-comm sellers like Zepto and Blinkit. To me, it was concerning for some reasons: - first, will it come to this? Let's see.  - although change is a constant, there is a lack of financial cushion at levels of street h...

  मै हठ करूँगा. मुझे नवीनीकारण नहीं अपनाना. मै माटी की भूमि मेँ नंगे पाव घूमना चाहूंगा. मेरे लिबास में मुझे कोरी सफ़ेदी मंज़ूर है. रात होते ही मै लालटेन की रौशनी मे रहना चाहता हूँ. घर हो, घर मेँ खुला आँगन मयस्सर हो, लोग हो. रात की चांदनी रात मे घी लगी रोटी के साथ आम का आचार मुझे जचेगा. बर्गर, पिज़्ज़ा, अन्य कोई व्यंजन की उम्मीद नहीं. घर की पाली हुई गाय का दुग्ध मिलेगा तो मै चूल्हे की लौ मेँ उसे गरम करके खाने मेँ खा लूंगा.  भूखे रहने की आदत छूट गयी है. आदि मानव हमारे पूर्वज रहे और हमें एक घंटे प्यास से नहीं रह पाएंगे, शायद मर ही जाए तो ताज्जुब नहीं. इतनी सुविधाएं किस लिए. भूख का होना ही तो जरूरी है. घंटो भूखे रह लिए तो थाली का एक दाना छोड़ दे कोई तो मै इफरात मानु. अब हम नाजुक है. चार कदम चलना, आठ मिनट भूखे रह पाना, सोलह मिनट गर्मी झेलना यही रह आया है बस. मै हठ करूँगा. कोई तो समय था जब ना रेलगाड़ी थी, हवाईजहाज तो छोडो. क्या दिवाली घर मेँ मनाते, कितने मुसाफिर ही हो गए, कितने साल मुँह ना देखा. अब कहते है की जिंदगी का कोई ठिकाना नहीं, इनसे उनसे सबसे मिल लो, कौन कब जा गुज़रे. गुज़रे...