A township that closes at dusk,
From out of the dark shadows, we enjoy.
And then, we smile. :)
About Me
- The Immigrant Albatross
- You step out on the open road, you see this one person making all the noise. The incessant laughter, the merry talks, the joker in your circus -- that's all me. You take a look around, and laugh, and then wonder how irritating, and in-your-face can he be -- that's all me. You might tolerate him, you might understand him; but you'll never be able to miss him -- that's all me. A li'l 'ere, a li'l there; the story doesn't change. You move ahead.. And Yesterday maintains its status quo. So on, so on.. And, the moment you patiently break through the high walls, and step inside the deep thoughts, you learn that the outside show is just a masquerade; a reason for everyone to believe that the world is at peace with itself -- that's all me. A reason for you to believe that a life of love, peace, beauty, forgiveness, hope, friendship, and redemption does exist. A life where the only thought that you share, is laughter -- that's all me. And then, it all comes out in writing...
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
I'm A Finder, Not A Keeper
I'm a finder, not a keeper! I wanted to stay forever young, but I died along the way.
I always thought of myself as a really friendly person. But, that's when I realised the problem with my mistaken thinking. I'm not. This is no masquerade. This is no show to make everyone believe that the world is at peace with itself. This is a liar, a mask of multi-layered ego. A deceitful tactic to make myself believe that I am at peace with myself. A reason for me to know that living two lives- one of the outside show to make others have faith, and the pessimistic inside is going to make life the same for me.. Beautiful. The outside show actually tries to compel the inner soul.. 'Look, a life of love, peace, beauty, forgiveness, hope, friendship, and redemption does exist.' In all of these acts, I now know that this is a facet of self-humour and self-belief, and not a ray of hope for others. I try to make myself believe in all the above things, and not sacrifice myself for those others. A friend(?) of mine once maintained, "Life sucks, and then we die." ... while another said, "Life rocks, and we live on." I think these two sayings very explicitly explained the skeleton of my inner and outer lives respectively.
Why am I telling you all this? Maybe that's because you're one of those rare patient people I've known, without any self-respect at all, who still want to know me. Inside and outside. I want you to know the whole truth. Today. Now. Here goes..
"I am a finder, not a keeper; I am a loser, I'm a weeper."
Do you ever wonder.. If he really was sucha find, why doesn't he get to keep it? In the beginning of it all, you probably do not understand what he does to you. He's battling two different ideologies deep within himself, and unlike what the (?!)friend said.. There is no hidden beautiful personality. And it is this battle that does him apart. At first go, the battle doesn't surface.. You cannot see this.. If he really is so fun-loving, why is he afraid to shoot strangers? His frolic is an image of deceit, and no one, absolutely no one can look through it. Then, the initial defenses start to break down.. The ones who loved his exterior so much start to shred it to pieces.. They don't like meat; they want to look at the bones. They don't want to study the outer-structure, they want the very base, the super-structure. And when they start to read all that the bones tell 'em, he begins to panic. His ego begins to prick him. How can she do that? How is he reading through it all? His true side comes out, and all the laughter dissolves in the sea of truth. And the truth is.. There is no laughter.
The new side that you see takes you by surprise.. WTF. This wasn't the old him. No one knows, but this is the REAL him. But, no one likes this. They would prolly 've liked such an isolated person, but not when his exo-skeleton is so fun-loving. No one likes a lie. They are taken aback by his 'new' side, and feel deceived. "I want him back. This over-theorising, apprehensive epitome of pessimism is not what I want. I want to smile, I want to laugh.. I want to fly, and I never wanna die ... WTF? I DO NOT CARE." And then, with this epic new realisation, with all the defences broken.. there is nothing left to hide, and nothing more to show. He goes into a shell, and waits.. waits for the next phase of finding-keeping begins.. and here, in isolation, he is joined by his new friend. Loneliness.
I know I have failed many of you. I never wanted any of this. I'm sorry. :)
Adolescence
Teenage years are the most difficult period in a person's life. Write about the difficulties you faced while growing up - XIIth Std., 2nd term - 26/11/2009.
ADOLESCENCE: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
One often gets to hear that the teenage years of a person are the most difficult period in his life. His mental, and physical self is in a state of constant change, and in these seven - eight years, one is in a perpetual state of conflicting thoughts, emotions, feelings, and the likes. This statement has been used, and overused to the point of it being called a cliche; and a piece of advice that every twelve year old is subjected to before he enters those ghastly years of turmoil.
For me, it has been no different. I, as everyone else, have been a victim of society, subject to its command without any prior intimidation. Growing up, I have learned that nothing is as imagined. The flower that I dreamt of as a child, was actually a thorn; and the bird I saw flying in the distance, was just a farce. Since our days of younghood, people always tell us to not fear the dark. They say that there always is light at the end of the tunnel. What I don't understand is why these apostles never talk about actually feeling the light, rather than merely seeing it! All they talk about is the sight of it, and they expect us to be pleased by it!
The most prevalent hurdle that one faces is the change in their minds- that internal conflict. When I was in my initial teenage years, I always considered society at large to be my enemy. I failed to realise that the actual change was taking place within me, and I failed to get adapted to the changing times. Studies also played a nefarious role. Education, and schooling are two entirely different concepts. Education is synonymous with learning, and knowledge. Truth. Whereas, schooling means just one thing- exams! "I only want to enjoy my childhood, Ma." This is what I told my mother, and she replied saying, "There will be enough time for you to enjoy once you are well settled in life."
Exams are probably the single largest cause of teenage suicidal deaths in the last decade. It is no surprise that the Indian Cabinet is making plans to make the Xth Board Exams optional. So much just to reduce stress levels!
The teenage years are the most formative years of one's life. It is a transition period when one bids farewell to a toddler, and shakes hands with adulthood. In order to do so, one has to be socially acceptable. An outcast has to place to seek solace, and so he takes to drugs, alcohol, and smoking. Some do it to be accepted by their peers, while others do it to hit back at the same society that churned them out. But for me, the fight to abstain from such illicit habits is probably the biggest challenge of all! After all, one doesn't know what's right or wrong, till he has a dose of both.
My extremely inflated ego, and overheated imagination is another cause of concern. I continue to have countless fall-outs with many erstwhile good friends, all because of my ego. The ordeal I face is that I know the aberration, but I don't know how to rectify it. Or maybe, I don't want to. Day-to-day affairs become heavy, and I feel weighed down by chains as I stand lost, in the middle of a long, dark corridor. My instinct tells me to break away from these chains, but my lovely teenage mind will rather sit, and stare into oblivion, knowing not what went by, nor what comes next.
Parents! The cause of all domestic problems for an imbecile. For years, I resented their motivating me, teaching me, loving me, and tolerating me. I felt that they did that as a household norm, and not because they cared for me. It is only now, and through great holy luck, that I have realised my utter folly. Or else, it might 've been so late that it wouldn't even 've mattered!
"It takes twenty years for a woman to make a man out of her son, but only twenty days for another to make a fool out of him." The occasional feelings that every boy has for a girl can often prove to be fatal. Not only this, but it can also cause many entangling complications with a rival guy friend, simultaneously marring relations among 'em all!
With all my criticism of everything around me, I often wonder how I'm still living in all of it like a "jolly good fellow"! I wonder why I tend to come back stronger every day! Is it because tomorrow is always another day? Or is it because criticism is actually my only prerogative, and everything around me isn't as bad as I imagine it to be?! I come to the conclusion that, with the worst part of my teenage life behind me, I don't need to fear a tomorrow. Looking back, I would actually love to relive all these years I spent complaining. Why? 'cause I enjoyed every moment of the good, and bad times in those days! They call this a paradox, an irony, and an insignia of our age! But then, I can't really blame them either. After all, I'm in a state where I'm no longer a boy; not yet a man!
ADOLESCENCE: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
One often gets to hear that the teenage years of a person are the most difficult period in his life. His mental, and physical self is in a state of constant change, and in these seven - eight years, one is in a perpetual state of conflicting thoughts, emotions, feelings, and the likes. This statement has been used, and overused to the point of it being called a cliche; and a piece of advice that every twelve year old is subjected to before he enters those ghastly years of turmoil.
For me, it has been no different. I, as everyone else, have been a victim of society, subject to its command without any prior intimidation. Growing up, I have learned that nothing is as imagined. The flower that I dreamt of as a child, was actually a thorn; and the bird I saw flying in the distance, was just a farce. Since our days of younghood, people always tell us to not fear the dark. They say that there always is light at the end of the tunnel. What I don't understand is why these apostles never talk about actually feeling the light, rather than merely seeing it! All they talk about is the sight of it, and they expect us to be pleased by it!
The most prevalent hurdle that one faces is the change in their minds- that internal conflict. When I was in my initial teenage years, I always considered society at large to be my enemy. I failed to realise that the actual change was taking place within me, and I failed to get adapted to the changing times. Studies also played a nefarious role. Education, and schooling are two entirely different concepts. Education is synonymous with learning, and knowledge. Truth. Whereas, schooling means just one thing- exams! "I only want to enjoy my childhood, Ma." This is what I told my mother, and she replied saying, "There will be enough time for you to enjoy once you are well settled in life."
Exams are probably the single largest cause of teenage suicidal deaths in the last decade. It is no surprise that the Indian Cabinet is making plans to make the Xth Board Exams optional. So much just to reduce stress levels!
The teenage years are the most formative years of one's life. It is a transition period when one bids farewell to a toddler, and shakes hands with adulthood. In order to do so, one has to be socially acceptable. An outcast has to place to seek solace, and so he takes to drugs, alcohol, and smoking. Some do it to be accepted by their peers, while others do it to hit back at the same society that churned them out. But for me, the fight to abstain from such illicit habits is probably the biggest challenge of all! After all, one doesn't know what's right or wrong, till he has a dose of both.
My extremely inflated ego, and overheated imagination is another cause of concern. I continue to have countless fall-outs with many erstwhile good friends, all because of my ego. The ordeal I face is that I know the aberration, but I don't know how to rectify it. Or maybe, I don't want to. Day-to-day affairs become heavy, and I feel weighed down by chains as I stand lost, in the middle of a long, dark corridor. My instinct tells me to break away from these chains, but my lovely teenage mind will rather sit, and stare into oblivion, knowing not what went by, nor what comes next.
Parents! The cause of all domestic problems for an imbecile. For years, I resented their motivating me, teaching me, loving me, and tolerating me. I felt that they did that as a household norm, and not because they cared for me. It is only now, and through great holy luck, that I have realised my utter folly. Or else, it might 've been so late that it wouldn't even 've mattered!
"It takes twenty years for a woman to make a man out of her son, but only twenty days for another to make a fool out of him." The occasional feelings that every boy has for a girl can often prove to be fatal. Not only this, but it can also cause many entangling complications with a rival guy friend, simultaneously marring relations among 'em all!
With all my criticism of everything around me, I often wonder how I'm still living in all of it like a "jolly good fellow"! I wonder why I tend to come back stronger every day! Is it because tomorrow is always another day? Or is it because criticism is actually my only prerogative, and everything around me isn't as bad as I imagine it to be?! I come to the conclusion that, with the worst part of my teenage life behind me, I don't need to fear a tomorrow. Looking back, I would actually love to relive all these years I spent complaining. Why? 'cause I enjoyed every moment of the good, and bad times in those days! They call this a paradox, an irony, and an insignia of our age! But then, I can't really blame them either. After all, I'm in a state where I'm no longer a boy; not yet a man!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Calcutta '08 [Part I]
"So, Poopster, you tell me Calcutta sucks? Really?! I repeat.. you do not know that! At least, not unless you're forced to go into that wretched city by force, in the scorching heat of nearly 40* Celsius with the humidity touching 100%, to be educated by rat-smelling mongrels, and live in the midst of Patagonian savaging bashi-bazooks out there, who can consume nothing save the hell of a hurricane-tasting water that the soil of that terrible region provides, and of course, the "MAACH"! And before I forget.. the brilliant "ROSHOGOLAS"! Oh yeah!.. I'd rather have a Vada Pav! Thank you very much. :@ :(
:O
And that, my friend, is Calcutta, as I witnessed in the month of April 2008.. but nonetheless applicable at any time of the long and tiresome year. :|
I lost count of the number of times I cried out there. Was it 17? Or 18? I don't really know. I'm sure the only day in that city of cow-dung-smelling fishes when I didn't shed those misanthropic and melancholic tears of sorrow was TODAY! And you know why? I guess you do know that. 'cause I was returning back to Bombay!
*screaming an ecstatic yell of sheer joy mix'd with pure delight*
I woke up at 0630 hours today morning.. and all on my own; a record surely! I never woke up that early since the October of the year gone by, and I rejoiced at my already half-won battle of shortening my stay there! AND I DIDN'T CRY TODAY! The last step on that blistering jellyfish soil that I took was a leap onto the aeroplane escalator of the Jet Airways Flight No. 9W 212. I shall never forget the temporary, sorry, eternal debt that I owe to that very flight for having saved me.. my body.. my soul.. my everything.. getting me back to life.. the last step was a leap of a pang of bliss and satisfaction that I never felt before.. and in that moment of redemption, I sadistically stared back with the utmost disgust at the city which was supposed to be my "home"! (Yeah, right!)
But the story doesn't end here.. the goddamn flight was CURSED! :O Oh, yeah! I shouldn't have forgotten it.. taking off from my "home", the two winged jet bat made a collision with some unknown object on the runway just prior to leaving ground from the forsaken East.. It shook violently all through out.. and at the end of the journey, it was freaking hovering in circles over my HOME.. Bombay, yeah! For one freaking hour, it went round and round, reminding me of all the torture that I had already endured, and was still enduring.. silently.. angrily! Reminding me that I was away from my home, and reminding me that I would remain away for some more time to come. :( The take off gets delayed by 56 minutes, and now, oh god, oh; the landing gets delayed by 63 minutes! Oh, sweet Lord! Now that's not a co-incidence, right? My flight to my "home" wasn't as troublesome.. at least it had some sane roots.
But, oh, Sorrow, where have you led me?! :(
:O
* Cursed be the cockroach-looking fish-lovers and trawl seekers from the city of joy *
* Cursed be all their descendants to carry out their legacies *
* Cursed be me for being forced to bequeath that price *
* Cursed become you too for sharing a "home" with the traitors *"
:O
And that, my friend, is Calcutta, as I witnessed in the month of April 2008.. but nonetheless applicable at any time of the long and tiresome year. :|
I lost count of the number of times I cried out there. Was it 17? Or 18? I don't really know. I'm sure the only day in that city of cow-dung-smelling fishes when I didn't shed those misanthropic and melancholic tears of sorrow was TODAY! And you know why? I guess you do know that. 'cause I was returning back to Bombay!
*screaming an ecstatic yell of sheer joy mix'd with pure delight*
I woke up at 0630 hours today morning.. and all on my own; a record surely! I never woke up that early since the October of the year gone by, and I rejoiced at my already half-won battle of shortening my stay there! AND I DIDN'T CRY TODAY! The last step on that blistering jellyfish soil that I took was a leap onto the aeroplane escalator of the Jet Airways Flight No. 9W 212. I shall never forget the temporary, sorry, eternal debt that I owe to that very flight for having saved me.. my body.. my soul.. my everything.. getting me back to life.. the last step was a leap of a pang of bliss and satisfaction that I never felt before.. and in that moment of redemption, I sadistically stared back with the utmost disgust at the city which was supposed to be my "home"! (Yeah, right!)
But the story doesn't end here.. the goddamn flight was CURSED! :O Oh, yeah! I shouldn't have forgotten it.. taking off from my "home", the two winged jet bat made a collision with some unknown object on the runway just prior to leaving ground from the forsaken East.. It shook violently all through out.. and at the end of the journey, it was freaking hovering in circles over my HOME.. Bombay, yeah! For one freaking hour, it went round and round, reminding me of all the torture that I had already endured, and was still enduring.. silently.. angrily! Reminding me that I was away from my home, and reminding me that I would remain away for some more time to come. :( The take off gets delayed by 56 minutes, and now, oh god, oh; the landing gets delayed by 63 minutes! Oh, sweet Lord! Now that's not a co-incidence, right? My flight to my "home" wasn't as troublesome.. at least it had some sane roots.
But, oh, Sorrow, where have you led me?! :(
:O
* Cursed be the cockroach-looking fish-lovers and trawl seekers from the city of joy *
* Cursed be all their descendants to carry out their legacies *
* Cursed be me for being forced to bequeath that price *
* Cursed become you too for sharing a "home" with the traitors *"
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Long List Of How It Hurts..
She was scared she was running late. She didn't live there anymore. Her home was far away.. One thousand, three hundred, eighty-seven kilometres away.. was the road that separated her birth and destiny. Yet, she returned.. Every once in a while, she needed to break free.. go back to where she was.. how she was.. what got her out of her mooned life, to play the piper's tune in an alien today. And now, she was back there in her birth of yesterday, playing a familiar tune.. not knowing how lost she was. She was scared she was running late. And he was angry that she was getting bored. He was her laughter, and he was her smiles. And it was he, who blamed her for getting bored in their presence. Aah, the hurt. The truth is.. he didn't care either. A happy chapter had closed, but she hadn't moved on yet. Just like every other girl, she was still lingering on..
But, the insensitive man that he was.. had to seep jealousy in. "Yes, running late to meet other 'interesting' friends." What sort of a world is this? She was crying for that day all her life.. The time when she would disappear forever, only to redeem herself periodically. But, the ones she disappeared from were still omnipresent, not knowing how badly it hurt.
'cause the truth is.. she had a friend's birthday party to attend. A friend who probably wasn't as close to her as he was.. but a friend nonetheless.. a friend she had known for longer, and a friend she had gotten used to seeing way more often. But, that all didn't hold the slightest significance in the aftermath of her disappearance. Why? 'cause she was all that was going wrong.. she was all the reason for the world to spin the wrong way.. she was the cause.. she was the event.. she was the catastrophe. And 'cause all the aberration was self-inflicted, no one else would bother about her either.
She was scared she was running late. She missed it by two hours, and before now, and before then.. she didn't complain even once. She was to be there at 4; she was there at 6.
He never realised.. the others didn't matter to her.. the others might 've been her friend for longer, her acquaintance for longer.. longer, but never deeper. He was all she was talking about. HIM! HE didn't want her there, HE wanted her to leave, HE wouldn't miss her if she wasn't around. It was all about HIM, and not what the rest of the world thought. She was dying for him to quit the diplomatic facade.. the farce of how she lived.. but, in truth, never existed. That's who she had become, that's who she had come around to believe.. and that's where she was then. Nowhere. She hurt inside, but not once did anyone find her raising a cry or complaint- she was happily surviving through it all. Happily.
And she stayed there till he asked her to leave.
She knew this then, as she knew this now.. if he'd asked her too, she would 've stayed. It was only when he explicitly told her to leave that she did. And no one quite knew why. But, the universe often speaks through us, and so it spoke through her.. 'cause it hurt her a lot when he said that. A lot. She kept a straight poker face, and quietly walked away with her music, after saying a queer goodbye to all, but it didn't end at that. And that's 'cause the hurt, it still remained. Till today, only one person had managed to decipher that poker face, and to say the truth, she found that rather strange, but comforting too. But, it wasn't to be him. She wanted him to call her back after she took her first step away from yesterday. Better still, she actually wanted to stay back. Elsewhere had to be gone, but deep within, status quo needed to be restored. Restitution. And she learned it the hard way.. the problem with restitution. The problem is that you try a li'l too hard to hold on to Yesterday, missing the joys of Today. And her dear, sweet Yesterday, as expected, was fluidly slipping away.. And she was still desperately clinging on.. still not letting go.. not one bit. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she couldn't.. maybe she still wanted it to be a part of every step that she took.. But, that was totally one-sided.. They were all living, or rather, existing in different worlds.. And every past moment was a moment lost in a yesterday of nothingness. And she missed every bit of that. She tried to convince herself otherwise, but with every breath she took, awake or dead, she was still living in his past. And living two completely different, parallel lives, trying to balance both.. was a helluva task. And she was still doing just that.. Happily. Gladly. Desperately. Hopelessly. Sadly.
He was her best friend back in school. Was. That didn't make sense anymore. But, no matter how things changed, that one thing would always remain.
"No one can take Tomorrow away. It will come.. one day at a time.. What goes missing, what the good Lord takes away.. is Yesterday.. one day at a time.."
He didn't get her message. Sad life. You spend half a lifetime trying to get things across, and the other half facing a hit-back. Tsk.
"Do you know why did I ask you to leave? 'Cause for you, everyone existed except me. Did you even bother picking up my calls? Don't you give me that crappy excuse that you didn't pick up 'cause you didn't hear it. You picked up Chin's call but not mine. Wow. Why on earth did you start acting so weird? You had told me about Prasha before but wait, you had to tell only Chin. Sorry, if I was invading your privacy.. I already was pissed yest, but no you had to take my cell phone and piss me off even more. Then, if we are that boring and if your new friends are that interesting, you shouldn't have to meet people like us. You wanted fate to decide na. That means, you never really wanted to meet."
As I said, you spend half a lifetime trying to get things across.. and most of the times, they're still within you. Sad communication, really.
And she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't. Recoil. "Oh, you know what? That's a bullshit reason for asking me to leave. It was plain rude, and that's that. I was fucking sleeping when you called, and next time I was taking a bath. And don't give me that bullshit of not answering calls. How many times 've you completely ignored my calls and messages? You're jus' too arrogant to accept this. Aah, now I wonder why you were pissed. Oh, wait! Maybe it had something to do with meeting me. Aah, guess it all makes perfect sense to me now. You're right, actually. I never wanted to meet you. And you know why? 'cause the last time I was 'ere, I learned but one thing.. You people aren't interested in meeting me. And YOU are all too engrossed in your new college bullshit to even answer my calls, or reply to my messages. But, no.. You're not going to accept this.. You're going to be a bitch, and come up with a hundred more arguments. And I always thought you would be the one person who'd understand me."
She begged him, but he never got her message. He was supposed to compromise, not shout back. He was supposed to understand the hurt. Understand.
But, he continued with the ignoring..
Ignoring..
Long last! "Will sorry suffice?" "Sorry. I am sorry u dont understand me. I am sorry u always judge me wrongly. I am tired of explaining to you..but you never get me so chuck."
And she smiled.
He wasn't bothered.
And I smiled again, and bid farewell.
"Goodbye, Yesterday."
But, the insensitive man that he was.. had to seep jealousy in. "Yes, running late to meet other 'interesting' friends." What sort of a world is this? She was crying for that day all her life.. The time when she would disappear forever, only to redeem herself periodically. But, the ones she disappeared from were still omnipresent, not knowing how badly it hurt.
'cause the truth is.. she had a friend's birthday party to attend. A friend who probably wasn't as close to her as he was.. but a friend nonetheless.. a friend she had known for longer, and a friend she had gotten used to seeing way more often. But, that all didn't hold the slightest significance in the aftermath of her disappearance. Why? 'cause she was all that was going wrong.. she was all the reason for the world to spin the wrong way.. she was the cause.. she was the event.. she was the catastrophe. And 'cause all the aberration was self-inflicted, no one else would bother about her either.
She was scared she was running late. She missed it by two hours, and before now, and before then.. she didn't complain even once. She was to be there at 4; she was there at 6.
He never realised.. the others didn't matter to her.. the others might 've been her friend for longer, her acquaintance for longer.. longer, but never deeper. He was all she was talking about. HIM! HE didn't want her there, HE wanted her to leave, HE wouldn't miss her if she wasn't around. It was all about HIM, and not what the rest of the world thought. She was dying for him to quit the diplomatic facade.. the farce of how she lived.. but, in truth, never existed. That's who she had become, that's who she had come around to believe.. and that's where she was then. Nowhere. She hurt inside, but not once did anyone find her raising a cry or complaint- she was happily surviving through it all. Happily.
And she stayed there till he asked her to leave.
She knew this then, as she knew this now.. if he'd asked her too, she would 've stayed. It was only when he explicitly told her to leave that she did. And no one quite knew why. But, the universe often speaks through us, and so it spoke through her.. 'cause it hurt her a lot when he said that. A lot. She kept a straight poker face, and quietly walked away with her music, after saying a queer goodbye to all, but it didn't end at that. And that's 'cause the hurt, it still remained. Till today, only one person had managed to decipher that poker face, and to say the truth, she found that rather strange, but comforting too. But, it wasn't to be him. She wanted him to call her back after she took her first step away from yesterday. Better still, she actually wanted to stay back. Elsewhere had to be gone, but deep within, status quo needed to be restored. Restitution. And she learned it the hard way.. the problem with restitution. The problem is that you try a li'l too hard to hold on to Yesterday, missing the joys of Today. And her dear, sweet Yesterday, as expected, was fluidly slipping away.. And she was still desperately clinging on.. still not letting go.. not one bit. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she couldn't.. maybe she still wanted it to be a part of every step that she took.. But, that was totally one-sided.. They were all living, or rather, existing in different worlds.. And every past moment was a moment lost in a yesterday of nothingness. And she missed every bit of that. She tried to convince herself otherwise, but with every breath she took, awake or dead, she was still living in his past. And living two completely different, parallel lives, trying to balance both.. was a helluva task. And she was still doing just that.. Happily. Gladly. Desperately. Hopelessly. Sadly.
He was her best friend back in school. Was. That didn't make sense anymore. But, no matter how things changed, that one thing would always remain.
"No one can take Tomorrow away. It will come.. one day at a time.. What goes missing, what the good Lord takes away.. is Yesterday.. one day at a time.."
He didn't get her message. Sad life. You spend half a lifetime trying to get things across, and the other half facing a hit-back. Tsk.
"Do you know why did I ask you to leave? 'Cause for you, everyone existed except me. Did you even bother picking up my calls? Don't you give me that crappy excuse that you didn't pick up 'cause you didn't hear it. You picked up Chin's call but not mine. Wow. Why on earth did you start acting so weird? You had told me about Prasha before but wait, you had to tell only Chin. Sorry, if I was invading your privacy.. I already was pissed yest, but no you had to take my cell phone and piss me off even more. Then, if we are that boring and if your new friends are that interesting, you shouldn't have to meet people like us. You wanted fate to decide na. That means, you never really wanted to meet."
As I said, you spend half a lifetime trying to get things across.. and most of the times, they're still within you. Sad communication, really.
And she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't. Recoil. "Oh, you know what? That's a bullshit reason for asking me to leave. It was plain rude, and that's that. I was fucking sleeping when you called, and next time I was taking a bath. And don't give me that bullshit of not answering calls. How many times 've you completely ignored my calls and messages? You're jus' too arrogant to accept this. Aah, now I wonder why you were pissed. Oh, wait! Maybe it had something to do with meeting me. Aah, guess it all makes perfect sense to me now. You're right, actually. I never wanted to meet you. And you know why? 'cause the last time I was 'ere, I learned but one thing.. You people aren't interested in meeting me. And YOU are all too engrossed in your new college bullshit to even answer my calls, or reply to my messages. But, no.. You're not going to accept this.. You're going to be a bitch, and come up with a hundred more arguments. And I always thought you would be the one person who'd understand me."
She begged him, but he never got her message. He was supposed to compromise, not shout back. He was supposed to understand the hurt. Understand.
But, he continued with the ignoring..
Ignoring..
Long last! "Will sorry suffice?" "Sorry. I am sorry u dont understand me. I am sorry u always judge me wrongly. I am tired of explaining to you..but you never get me so chuck."
And she smiled.
He wasn't bothered.
And I smiled again, and bid farewell.
"Goodbye, Yesterday."
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Homecoming To Country Roads [Part I]
"Life is old there; older than the trees.. Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze."
The best thing about surprises is that they come when you least expect them. That morning, when I woke up, I had no idea the day would turn out the way it did, and now, going down those country roads again, it gets teardrops in my eyes.
9th September. My parents took a train from Bombay, on their way to Delhi. They had to meet one of my teachers, hand over some of my stuff, and most importantly, make me feel home in an (?)alien world, and cure me of my-bl#h-err, (?)h0m#$1ckneS$. That night, we had an informal meeting in our common room. As we spoke, our temperatures kept rising, and the infestation kept spreading, and word was passed around that an informal leave was to be granted to all students as a precautionary measure. All this, after another got the fatal virus, and had to be sent for treatment. Quarantine. Stirred, but not shaken, I called my family, and for the first time since the outbreak, told 'em 'bout the epidemic. Nerved.
10th September. I went to sleep late at 5, but still managed to wake up by 9- just in time for college. More than half our batch had run away. Eloped, with the fear in their souls guiding 'em to yesterday's security. I decided to miss the first class, and attend the rest of the fateful day in retrospection. Thoughtful contemplation. After a bath, I bagged up, and reached college, just in time for our second lecture, only to learn that classes were temporarily suspended for the day. Wasted.
Rewind to the past. The situation in our college was a grave one. Dengue, swine flu, influenza, viral fever, et al cases were rising in Delhi, and the open drain beside our hostels provided a welcome breeding ground for the plagued mosquitoes. It was only a matter of time till we would catch the disease too. Everyday, new cases were being reported, and people were getting admitted to the hospital. Some in the heat of the sun, some during the peak of the night. A senior got admitted to the hospital with swine flu. Another felt the heat, and escaped. And at least fifty others were down with influenza, seasonal flu, and showing symptoms of the five who caught the ultimate. Down with the sickness.
8th September. My neighbour came to my room, and the piece of shit that he is, started hugging everyone around. Hug, hug, hug, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze, chuuuuuu! Swine flu: Hospitalised, at 0230hours.
Forward, forward! 10th September, 1000hours. All of us sat at the canteen, zombie-d. My parents had reached Delhi, and were on their way to meet me in college in a couple of hours. Telecommunication was fighting its way out as the best mode of conversation, as calls were frantically being made to our over-frantic parents. The doctor was called urgently to conduct preliminary tests for the flu. Everyone kept reporting to the doctor in fear. Safe, not Sorry. The sneezes, and coughs kept getting louder, and the cure was being fumigated around campus. Many of us had to be rushed to hospital for a secondary check up. Rumour had it that the college would be shut for a week, but with our Vice-Chancellor away battling intra-state issues elsewhere, no official word could be confirmed. Our Warden remained in denial, and a senior teacher replied in the joyous affirmative. Confusion, confusion! And yet, there could be no pen to paper.
We sat there for four hours, feasting on all that our canteen had to offer, and talking, walking, and eating faster, hoping it'd make time fly faster too. And then, as they say, at the end of a long wait, it's always worth it. The proctor had declared that college would be shut for a week, which, alongwith the weekend, made it ten whole days. 1500hours- I rushed to my room, and called my parents, and told 'em that my flight tickets were booked for that evening. And so, they wouldn't be able to meet me in college, and that I wouldn't be able to meet 'em at their guest-house either. Also, I wouldn't be returning with 'em 'cause the entire Mumbai gang was going in a group. A minute later, I called a fellow Mumbai-kar to change my lie into the truth, and actually book those return tickets. She called her father back home, and got tickets booked for 1720hours, which meant that we would 've to leave the campus by 1530hours, latest. Having to time to choose what to carry, and pack accordingly, I dumped all that I had into my ever-so-big travel bag, charged my in-a-coma cell phone, and laptop, and with a forty kilogram assistant, ran towards the canteen.
Misfortune strikes. On reaching the canteen, I learnt that we didn't secure tickets for the flight at 1720hours, but for the one at 1950hours, which meant that the long wait was not yet over. I kept my luggage at the canteen steps, and ran to the Academic Block to get my Leave Application signed. That done, we all met at the canteen again, where I begun to charge my cell-phone, and now in-a-coma laptop. Wait, wait, wait.. It was soon time for Sheda, and Razm to leave for their flight, and the chivalrous gentleman that I am, helped 'em carry all their luggage to the main gate.
Strangely, as they left, I felt this intensified sense of belonging to the place.. to all my friends there. When I was there, I wanted to be back home with every breath I took.. but in those last few moments, I could feel a part of me wanting to stay back. And when I thought about it, I realised, it was not just a part, but one entire half, and coming to think of it, my better half. I probably wouldn't realise it then, or maybe I was too reluctant to, but in those six short weeks, I'd spent an entire lifetime there. And as a friend had told me.. "This was just the beginning.. of everything.", I learnt that my tomorrow had already begun.. today. Walking back with Chid, I couldn't believe I'd gotten so deeply associated with the place already. But that's where I was, so yeah.
After Chid and I reached the canteen, we were joined by my fellow Mumbai-kar friend, Stew. In a li'l while, Sabm, and Sanku came there, hands full of luggage, and hired a cab to take us all to the airport. Meanwhile, I'd learnt that my parents were also at the airport to meet me for a saintly five minutes, reminisce, and hand over some of my belongings. After dropping Sanku at his terminal, we exited the airport, and re-entered the airport to enter Terminal 1-A. I met my parents after six whole weeks, and insensitive though it may sound, I realised that I didn't really miss 'em much. I was dying to get back home.. to get back to the comfort of my bed.. and to take in that free smell of that city, but when it came to my family, I was still blank. We spoke for a couple of minutes, and my parents handed over my overdue belongings, and after a few (?)departing hugs, I took leave.. inside the terminal building, with my passport to freedom, with my ticket to home..
After the routine check in, et al, we three sat at the waiting room, and ordered some food from the McDonalds over there. I logged on to the internet for a brief while, kept texting Chid, and enjoyed the sanctity that homecoming music had to offer. Sabm's flight had started to board, and he left.. to his own sense of belonging.. Bangalore. In a brief while, our boarding also begun, and chivalry guiding, I led the way to our escape.
I shall never forget the temporary debt that I owe to our flight for having saved me.. my body.. my soul.. my everything.. The last step was a huge leap.. with a pang of bliss, and satisfaction shooting within me.. reminding me that I'd soon be.. coming back to life. All I could feel then was relief.. homecoming after six weeks in a seemingly alien world. The rain set in at my home, and I could still hear my footsteps from back there. The rain might blow away my candles there, but the legends never will. And it was to that love of yesterday, and chains of joy that I was returning. I didn't 've too many thoughts then.. probably, none. The only thing gushing in and out, were feelings.. memories that would never die out. Pieces of our past that remind us to pave our way for a better tomorrow.
I was messaging Chid, and Rasin, and had to play parallel lives, showing Chid how happy I was at going back, and showing Rasin how I missed Bombay, and how badly I wanted to be back. Aah, my trick wasn't caught. A li'l later, when the flight was about to take off, I told Rasin that I was a li'l busy, and that I'd text her in a while. The truth is: you don't get network in the sky, but yeah, it worked well enough. Back in the aeroplane, Stew stole my window seat, and for the first time in my life, I had to surrender my beloved window seat. Chivalry, tch tch. I sat beside a seventy-six year ol' man, who liked to converse a lot, quite evidently. We had quite a bit of conversation during our journey, and I learned half his life story in a mere two hours, and if I may add, vice-versa. And before I forget, as fate would 've it, our legends never die.. his grandson was a student of a Gujarati school in Juhu. Ka-boom! JNS, aye! Small world, ay, o! "Man meets grandson's senior" would be a worthy first page tabloid story, so said he. (In any case, MM seems to be having an inseparable affinity for our school!)
And then the awkward silence.. the long pause of surrender.. Music be our master, our master to save us! And hearing one of those "Coming home" songs, it struck me as though a bolt of thunder had lit the flying machine I was travelling in! It was Ganpati season in Maharashtra! And Mumbai would be revelling in party, everyone in unison, to welcome its deity! The streets would be happening, and the people would be chanting.. it was THE time to be back home. To add to it all, it was the weekend- and all my friends would be back home too! Some for Ganpati, some for the two day waiver- but that wouldn't matter.. what did was that they would all be there. Home! The very thought of it filled me with so much excitement that I was willing to jump off our manned jet, and fly back to Mumbai myself.. faster than that piece of engine!
After all, there's no place like home.. Home is where the heart is.. and so, all of yesterday kept coming back to me! No one was expecting me back home for another twenty days, and I'd already started making plans of surprising my friends. This, that, boom! I'd promised myself.. that someday, I would go back to my dream village, and reminisce the good ol' days, and on the road to my destiny, I was chalking each and every move of mine in animated joy!
Our flight luckily didn't 've any delay problems, and in a good two hours, we could see the Mumbai horizon. I was so excited to not miss a single moment of my city that Stew and I were actually sharing the same window seat! If not for the seat belt, I'd probably 've broken through the window, and done a crash landing into Thane Creek. Aah, thank god for air travel precautionary measures. At 2215hours, we marked our entry into a 28*C atmosphere of home, and when I left the confines of the air-conditioned air plane, into the blue-skin smell of belonging, with a slight shower overhead, I recalled the wise man's words about the smell of the different air: the worst good smell in the world.. And, I knew it then, as I know it now.. I was home, recalled to life.
The best thing about surprises is that they come when you least expect them. That morning, when I woke up, I had no idea the day would turn out the way it did, and now, going down those country roads again, it gets teardrops in my eyes.
9th September. My parents took a train from Bombay, on their way to Delhi. They had to meet one of my teachers, hand over some of my stuff, and most importantly, make me feel home in an (?)alien world, and cure me of my-bl#h-err, (?)h0m#$1ckneS$. That night, we had an informal meeting in our common room. As we spoke, our temperatures kept rising, and the infestation kept spreading, and word was passed around that an informal leave was to be granted to all students as a precautionary measure. All this, after another got the fatal virus, and had to be sent for treatment. Quarantine. Stirred, but not shaken, I called my family, and for the first time since the outbreak, told 'em 'bout the epidemic. Nerved.
10th September. I went to sleep late at 5, but still managed to wake up by 9- just in time for college. More than half our batch had run away. Eloped, with the fear in their souls guiding 'em to yesterday's security. I decided to miss the first class, and attend the rest of the fateful day in retrospection. Thoughtful contemplation. After a bath, I bagged up, and reached college, just in time for our second lecture, only to learn that classes were temporarily suspended for the day. Wasted.
Rewind to the past. The situation in our college was a grave one. Dengue, swine flu, influenza, viral fever, et al cases were rising in Delhi, and the open drain beside our hostels provided a welcome breeding ground for the plagued mosquitoes. It was only a matter of time till we would catch the disease too. Everyday, new cases were being reported, and people were getting admitted to the hospital. Some in the heat of the sun, some during the peak of the night. A senior got admitted to the hospital with swine flu. Another felt the heat, and escaped. And at least fifty others were down with influenza, seasonal flu, and showing symptoms of the five who caught the ultimate. Down with the sickness.
8th September. My neighbour came to my room, and the piece of shit that he is, started hugging everyone around. Hug, hug, hug, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze, chuuuuuu! Swine flu: Hospitalised, at 0230hours.
Forward, forward! 10th September, 1000hours. All of us sat at the canteen, zombie-d. My parents had reached Delhi, and were on their way to meet me in college in a couple of hours. Telecommunication was fighting its way out as the best mode of conversation, as calls were frantically being made to our over-frantic parents. The doctor was called urgently to conduct preliminary tests for the flu. Everyone kept reporting to the doctor in fear. Safe, not Sorry. The sneezes, and coughs kept getting louder, and the cure was being fumigated around campus. Many of us had to be rushed to hospital for a secondary check up. Rumour had it that the college would be shut for a week, but with our Vice-Chancellor away battling intra-state issues elsewhere, no official word could be confirmed. Our Warden remained in denial, and a senior teacher replied in the joyous affirmative. Confusion, confusion! And yet, there could be no pen to paper.
We sat there for four hours, feasting on all that our canteen had to offer, and talking, walking, and eating faster, hoping it'd make time fly faster too. And then, as they say, at the end of a long wait, it's always worth it. The proctor had declared that college would be shut for a week, which, alongwith the weekend, made it ten whole days. 1500hours- I rushed to my room, and called my parents, and told 'em that my flight tickets were booked for that evening. And so, they wouldn't be able to meet me in college, and that I wouldn't be able to meet 'em at their guest-house either. Also, I wouldn't be returning with 'em 'cause the entire Mumbai gang was going in a group. A minute later, I called a fellow Mumbai-kar to change my lie into the truth, and actually book those return tickets. She called her father back home, and got tickets booked for 1720hours, which meant that we would 've to leave the campus by 1530hours, latest. Having to time to choose what to carry, and pack accordingly, I dumped all that I had into my ever-so-big travel bag, charged my in-a-coma cell phone, and laptop, and with a forty kilogram assistant, ran towards the canteen.
Misfortune strikes. On reaching the canteen, I learnt that we didn't secure tickets for the flight at 1720hours, but for the one at 1950hours, which meant that the long wait was not yet over. I kept my luggage at the canteen steps, and ran to the Academic Block to get my Leave Application signed. That done, we all met at the canteen again, where I begun to charge my cell-phone, and now in-a-coma laptop. Wait, wait, wait.. It was soon time for Sheda, and Razm to leave for their flight, and the chivalrous gentleman that I am, helped 'em carry all their luggage to the main gate.
Strangely, as they left, I felt this intensified sense of belonging to the place.. to all my friends there. When I was there, I wanted to be back home with every breath I took.. but in those last few moments, I could feel a part of me wanting to stay back. And when I thought about it, I realised, it was not just a part, but one entire half, and coming to think of it, my better half. I probably wouldn't realise it then, or maybe I was too reluctant to, but in those six short weeks, I'd spent an entire lifetime there. And as a friend had told me.. "This was just the beginning.. of everything.", I learnt that my tomorrow had already begun.. today. Walking back with Chid, I couldn't believe I'd gotten so deeply associated with the place already. But that's where I was, so yeah.
After Chid and I reached the canteen, we were joined by my fellow Mumbai-kar friend, Stew. In a li'l while, Sabm, and Sanku came there, hands full of luggage, and hired a cab to take us all to the airport. Meanwhile, I'd learnt that my parents were also at the airport to meet me for a saintly five minutes, reminisce, and hand over some of my belongings. After dropping Sanku at his terminal, we exited the airport, and re-entered the airport to enter Terminal 1-A. I met my parents after six whole weeks, and insensitive though it may sound, I realised that I didn't really miss 'em much. I was dying to get back home.. to get back to the comfort of my bed.. and to take in that free smell of that city, but when it came to my family, I was still blank. We spoke for a couple of minutes, and my parents handed over my overdue belongings, and after a few (?)departing hugs, I took leave.. inside the terminal building, with my passport to freedom, with my ticket to home..
After the routine check in, et al, we three sat at the waiting room, and ordered some food from the McDonalds over there. I logged on to the internet for a brief while, kept texting Chid, and enjoyed the sanctity that homecoming music had to offer. Sabm's flight had started to board, and he left.. to his own sense of belonging.. Bangalore. In a brief while, our boarding also begun, and chivalry guiding, I led the way to our escape.
I shall never forget the temporary debt that I owe to our flight for having saved me.. my body.. my soul.. my everything.. The last step was a huge leap.. with a pang of bliss, and satisfaction shooting within me.. reminding me that I'd soon be.. coming back to life. All I could feel then was relief.. homecoming after six weeks in a seemingly alien world. The rain set in at my home, and I could still hear my footsteps from back there. The rain might blow away my candles there, but the legends never will. And it was to that love of yesterday, and chains of joy that I was returning. I didn't 've too many thoughts then.. probably, none. The only thing gushing in and out, were feelings.. memories that would never die out. Pieces of our past that remind us to pave our way for a better tomorrow.
I was messaging Chid, and Rasin, and had to play parallel lives, showing Chid how happy I was at going back, and showing Rasin how I missed Bombay, and how badly I wanted to be back. Aah, my trick wasn't caught. A li'l later, when the flight was about to take off, I told Rasin that I was a li'l busy, and that I'd text her in a while. The truth is: you don't get network in the sky, but yeah, it worked well enough. Back in the aeroplane, Stew stole my window seat, and for the first time in my life, I had to surrender my beloved window seat. Chivalry, tch tch. I sat beside a seventy-six year ol' man, who liked to converse a lot, quite evidently. We had quite a bit of conversation during our journey, and I learned half his life story in a mere two hours, and if I may add, vice-versa. And before I forget, as fate would 've it, our legends never die.. his grandson was a student of a Gujarati school in Juhu. Ka-boom! JNS, aye! Small world, ay, o! "Man meets grandson's senior" would be a worthy first page tabloid story, so said he. (In any case, MM seems to be having an inseparable affinity for our school!)
And then the awkward silence.. the long pause of surrender.. Music be our master, our master to save us! And hearing one of those "Coming home" songs, it struck me as though a bolt of thunder had lit the flying machine I was travelling in! It was Ganpati season in Maharashtra! And Mumbai would be revelling in party, everyone in unison, to welcome its deity! The streets would be happening, and the people would be chanting.. it was THE time to be back home. To add to it all, it was the weekend- and all my friends would be back home too! Some for Ganpati, some for the two day waiver- but that wouldn't matter.. what did was that they would all be there. Home! The very thought of it filled me with so much excitement that I was willing to jump off our manned jet, and fly back to Mumbai myself.. faster than that piece of engine!
After all, there's no place like home.. Home is where the heart is.. and so, all of yesterday kept coming back to me! No one was expecting me back home for another twenty days, and I'd already started making plans of surprising my friends. This, that, boom! I'd promised myself.. that someday, I would go back to my dream village, and reminisce the good ol' days, and on the road to my destiny, I was chalking each and every move of mine in animated joy!
Our flight luckily didn't 've any delay problems, and in a good two hours, we could see the Mumbai horizon. I was so excited to not miss a single moment of my city that Stew and I were actually sharing the same window seat! If not for the seat belt, I'd probably 've broken through the window, and done a crash landing into Thane Creek. Aah, thank god for air travel precautionary measures. At 2215hours, we marked our entry into a 28*C atmosphere of home, and when I left the confines of the air-conditioned air plane, into the blue-skin smell of belonging, with a slight shower overhead, I recalled the wise man's words about the smell of the different air: the worst good smell in the world.. And, I knew it then, as I know it now.. I was home, recalled to life.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
War And Peace
WAR BETWEEN NATIONS IS INEVITABLE.
[19th November, 2008].
"What kind of victory is it when someone is left defeated? What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy. What is a war criminal? Was not war itself a crime against God and humanity, and, therefore, were not all those who sanctioned, engineered and conducted wars, war criminals? The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. Non-cooperation with evil is a sacred duty." - Gandhi.
One of the most feared consequences of a war today is that it may lead to a third world war, which in turn, might destroy all of humanity. It is quite wrong to say that wars between nations are inevitable. It has been more than sixty years since a major travesty occurred on the international front- in the form of the Second World War during 1939 - 1945. Since then, a myriad number of peace talks have been held between various parties to curb wars. The United Nations Organisation, formed after the Second World War, has done its level best to prevent the advent of another world war, and has achieved complete success!
If the question is asked: Why do we need wars? Are they necessary? Can you give any sort of justification for the lives of millions being consumed in the name of war? Then, you'll undoubtedly find yourself speechless, with no answer to give!
I am of the opinion that wars are nothing but an ostentatious way of proving a nation's military strength. The more wars a nation wins does not make any difference to its international war power. On the other hand, it totally cripples a teeming number of people for life, kills a lot more, and weakens the nation's economy and military strength. But most of all, the biggest blow is to the nations' morality, ethics, and civic sense.
Today, the U.N., situated in New York, helps in maintaining international peace, security, harmony, and co-operation. One of its principles, enshrined in its doctrine, states that "all member nations must respect each other's independence". It is with this view that Imperialism, and Fascism are no longer in existence, and Democracy is carving its way out as the most sought after form of Government in the world.
Peace talks are held in plenty between nations these days, as diplomats are sent from one country to another to attend international peace forums. Ambassadors are sent overseas to other nations to initiate and etch out a relationship of friendship between nations. All of this is being done just to facilitate peace on the international front!
The Father Of The Nation, Mahatma Gandhi had once said, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." Being vindictive will not get you anywhere. Taking revenge on another nation will weaken both the nations, and this in turn will make "the whole world blind". Mahatma Gandhi, the pillar behind the Indian freedom struggle, proved to the world that it requires non-violence, and truth to settle any dispute, A war will never lead you anywhere. The principles of "Satyagraha", and "Ahimsa" followed by Gandhiji were considered weak and puny by many, but that was what shook the British Empire to its very foundation, and ultimately gave us freedom from the British.
This is a classic epitome of how how a war can be avoided. Patience, benevolence, truth, and love are the attributes of the strong; just as violence is of the weak. Such was Gandhiji's contribution to world peace that the U.N. now recognises the 2nd of October, Gandhi Jayanti, as the "International Day of Non-Violence".
Albert Einstein once remarked, "I don't know what weapons will be used during the Third World War; but I do know that the Fourth World War will be fought with sticks, and stones." It is high time we realise that the most efficient tool we possess is love, and truth. It is something that can move even the hardest of souls towards redemption. We must not leave ourselves so impoverished that we are left with nothing but sticks, and stones in the future; that we are back to the start.
A war is just a nefarious way of settling a dispute. It is a fight that has no soul. The weak fight; the strong compromise. The power to start or end a war lies with the warring nations, and thus it would be unwarranted to say that it is inevitable since a nation could end a war at her own free will.
All the killing, and blood-spilling in the past should serve as a landmark reminder for our future. We must honour, and respect the integrity of each nation's individuality, and avoid wars at all costs.
This very much answers the question for the need of wars. And the answer is that it is totally un-required! Thus I'd say that wars between nations are not inevitable, and therefore we should avoid any form of violence.
Spread peace instead!
[19th November, 2008].
"What kind of victory is it when someone is left defeated? What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy. What is a war criminal? Was not war itself a crime against God and humanity, and, therefore, were not all those who sanctioned, engineered and conducted wars, war criminals? The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. Non-cooperation with evil is a sacred duty." - Gandhi.
One of the most feared consequences of a war today is that it may lead to a third world war, which in turn, might destroy all of humanity. It is quite wrong to say that wars between nations are inevitable. It has been more than sixty years since a major travesty occurred on the international front- in the form of the Second World War during 1939 - 1945. Since then, a myriad number of peace talks have been held between various parties to curb wars. The United Nations Organisation, formed after the Second World War, has done its level best to prevent the advent of another world war, and has achieved complete success!
If the question is asked: Why do we need wars? Are they necessary? Can you give any sort of justification for the lives of millions being consumed in the name of war? Then, you'll undoubtedly find yourself speechless, with no answer to give!
I am of the opinion that wars are nothing but an ostentatious way of proving a nation's military strength. The more wars a nation wins does not make any difference to its international war power. On the other hand, it totally cripples a teeming number of people for life, kills a lot more, and weakens the nation's economy and military strength. But most of all, the biggest blow is to the nations' morality, ethics, and civic sense.
Today, the U.N., situated in New York, helps in maintaining international peace, security, harmony, and co-operation. One of its principles, enshrined in its doctrine, states that "all member nations must respect each other's independence". It is with this view that Imperialism, and Fascism are no longer in existence, and Democracy is carving its way out as the most sought after form of Government in the world.
Peace talks are held in plenty between nations these days, as diplomats are sent from one country to another to attend international peace forums. Ambassadors are sent overseas to other nations to initiate and etch out a relationship of friendship between nations. All of this is being done just to facilitate peace on the international front!
The Father Of The Nation, Mahatma Gandhi had once said, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." Being vindictive will not get you anywhere. Taking revenge on another nation will weaken both the nations, and this in turn will make "the whole world blind". Mahatma Gandhi, the pillar behind the Indian freedom struggle, proved to the world that it requires non-violence, and truth to settle any dispute, A war will never lead you anywhere. The principles of "Satyagraha", and "Ahimsa" followed by Gandhiji were considered weak and puny by many, but that was what shook the British Empire to its very foundation, and ultimately gave us freedom from the British.
This is a classic epitome of how how a war can be avoided. Patience, benevolence, truth, and love are the attributes of the strong; just as violence is of the weak. Such was Gandhiji's contribution to world peace that the U.N. now recognises the 2nd of October, Gandhi Jayanti, as the "International Day of Non-Violence".
Albert Einstein once remarked, "I don't know what weapons will be used during the Third World War; but I do know that the Fourth World War will be fought with sticks, and stones." It is high time we realise that the most efficient tool we possess is love, and truth. It is something that can move even the hardest of souls towards redemption. We must not leave ourselves so impoverished that we are left with nothing but sticks, and stones in the future; that we are back to the start.
A war is just a nefarious way of settling a dispute. It is a fight that has no soul. The weak fight; the strong compromise. The power to start or end a war lies with the warring nations, and thus it would be unwarranted to say that it is inevitable since a nation could end a war at her own free will.
All the killing, and blood-spilling in the past should serve as a landmark reminder for our future. We must honour, and respect the integrity of each nation's individuality, and avoid wars at all costs.
This very much answers the question for the need of wars. And the answer is that it is totally un-required! Thus I'd say that wars between nations are not inevitable, and therefore we should avoid any form of violence.
Spread peace instead!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Out Of The Silent Planet
"It had always been my dream to live beyond the horizon, in a world of freedom, hiding behind some celestial body, so the sharp embers of our world never touch me."
This celestial body, one barred with infinite rules, restricting our movement, exists in a framework where our insides have no space, and no limit to responsibly maintain ourselves either. A week gone, and a normal day here bears no fruit. Nothing sweet, at least.. The early morning rituals with the smell killing the sense of it- unbearable. A walk to the coolness of the air, and seven hours of wandering, lost.. Only to return back to the inevitable store house, and departing to make myself feel at home in someone else's. No belonging, no belonging..
I stand here now, all by myself, overlooking that horizon from a different direction, looking back on that yesterday, and contemplating, weighing the pros and cons, and being balanced, manipulating the former to outweigh the latter; to force upon today, a sense of bitterness..
It's funny how the demons of yesterday look at this horizon. They look like they were always a part of me, and trust me, they always were. And living these parallel lives, trying to balance a touch of destiny, and history, while making the tryst with both.. isn't easy. The task at hand is of that of matching one demon's dusk to another's dawn, trying to find a way out of this silent planet we've been chained to, slipping away into oblivion, into the minds of fate we had created for ourselves. Losing grip on our path- the path with very high walls.. so high that it actually allows a limitless, and seamless resurrection from within.
Thus, never at home, roaming around in dark, closed corridors- still slipping, still forgetting- calling upon the dark demon's dying breath- inducing many others to believe in its gratitude, creating a road for my own self- very different from a long lost promise made to a friend- a promise to lower down the walls of disguise, a promise to publicly beautify the world with my own conscience, a promise to privately scar my face. What people assume, (assume!) is that a joker has reached his circus.. and his show has finally begun.. The only reason for his being is the jokes, the laughter, the fun- all at the expense of peers, and fellow teachers. And the bricks in the wall just lining up, higher, and higher.. Another one in this long chain of deceit...
Trying to curb a story with the makeshift residents of this new found burning existence, debating in the coffined while light of the middle world, and to lay your stakes on the roll of a die. The only story that ends with some frolic includes the walling of my own countenance, the beauty of it being hidden by all the misty smoke of fun that leaves no path to cross.
It's the same ol' story as yesterday, with a lot of apprehension. The same ol' fear of the unknown- with the hyperactivity deviating, and I daresay, destroying the purpose of our tryst-worthy existence- destroying the purpose of the door we passed to enter, and forgetting the way we were meant to exit it, at the pinnacle of foolishness- only to feel life getting out of hand, for the worse. Probably, what they say about the ascending feel is true, or maybe it is a parabola, it might peak on its way down. Maybe.. Just maybe.. and it's getting all cloudy now.
On a longer, and lighter futuristic note, I would picture myself in bed, early morning- with a cup of coffee (not tea!) in one hand, and newspaper in the other. My grandson holding another, pulling me out, and calling upon me to join him in his lighted fate. Granddaughter polishing my feet, and privately nourishing the implicit meaning of her own life at my behest. With not a worry anymore, and having two generations following, and the lineage protected, I would feel satiated. My own progeny, gushing through work, the early morning brunch, and the E/FT at one blurry go. I'll laugh at his fate, and remember my own civil torture- decades ago- during an age where we spent all our life living on a prayer, and everything built on chance, and hope- luck, no courage, and a desire for constancy. The sadism reflected in the same coloured eyes, with the pleasure of it all being nothing more than self-inflicted torture.. but the feel is to last a lifetime's frustration. Salvation.
“Sometimes, we create walls of disguise.. not to keep people away from us; but to see how many of ‘em care enough.. to break them down, and reach out to us...”
I stand here now, all by myself, overlooking that horizon from a different direction, looking back on that yesterday, and contemplating, weighing the pros and cons, and being balanced, manipulating the former to outweigh the latter; to force upon today, a sense of bitterness..
Trying to curb a story with the makeshift residents of this new found burning existence, debating in the coffined while light of the middle world, and to lay your stakes on the roll of a die. The only story that ends with some frolic includes the walling of my own countenance, the beauty of it being hidden by all the misty smoke of fun that leaves no path to cross.
It's the same ol' story as yesterday, with a lot of apprehension. The same ol' fear of the unknown- with the hyperactivity deviating, and I daresay, destroying the purpose of our tryst-worthy existence- destroying the purpose of the door we passed to enter, and forgetting the way we were meant to exit it, at the pinnacle of foolishness- only to feel life getting out of hand, for the worse. Probably, what they say about the ascending feel is true, or maybe it is a parabola, it might peak on its way down. Maybe.. Just maybe.. and it's getting all cloudy now.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Day That Was. :)
"The Day That Was. A great day for freedom. Free to play alone with time. Evening never come."
21st July, 2010: I have exactly eight days left over here: My city, my home.. I'm nervously waiting for the day of Judgement. A li'l excited, a li'l scared.
"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else... A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."
What happened today, changed everything.. It was a great day for freedom.
"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else... A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."
What happened today, changed everything.. It was a great day for freedom.
I woke up relatively early today, and did my usual getting-up routine. I read up on some history, and waited for the day to take its own course. Moment. I got a call from a friend, asking me to call him back immediately. I did that. It was a conference with my oldest two friends. We randomly decided to meet up, and roam around. A place was fixed, and a time, chosen. The danger: we had to go about informing/warning/coaxing our parents.
At 1430hours, the day was merely taking a randomly perfect course. We had a snack at an eatery, and sat there chalking a path for us to walk on for the next few hours. We were free to play alone with time..
At 1430hours, the day was merely taking a randomly perfect course. We had a snack at an eatery, and sat there chalking a path for us to walk on for the next few hours. We were free to play alone with time..
We soon left, and went to the nearest railway station, and caught the first train to the last stop in South Bombay. We made a couple of prank calls to some mutual friends, to pass the thirty minute train journey. It was random, but fun. Laughing our asses off, making noises, and getting embarrassed in the public eye. It was random, but fun.
At long last, the train crawled into our designated platform, and we disembarked. We decided to walk the way to the Gateway of India in Colaba, taking in the myriad sights the area had to offer, lane by lane.. A long walk, we got tired at the end of it.
The sight of the sea spurred us back to our souls.. We reached the Gateway of India, a monument, set against the backdrop of the Arabian Sea, lying underneath a dark, cloudy sky, ready to unleash its horror without warning. The Taj Hotels, standing the test of time, and terror, majestically towering over the monument. British Raj structures- we saw it all.
We sat on the wall, taking in the breath of history we were surrounded by. The waves splashing on the wall, showering us with its salinity. Bliss had found a new meaning. A meaning in sweet, salty tears.
A while on, we took a taxi, and headed towards Girgaum Chowpatty. The taxi ride was one to remember. History Road. The rifles that shot themselves, the ammunition that never ran out, always ready to use with some good handling. Laughter. We took a detour on the way, and stopped ourselves at Nariman, sorry, Naaarrriiimmaaan Point. We paid our dues, and walked on that chosen path of ours, our path, to freedom...
"One of the best things about this city.. is the smell of the different air. You can smell it before you see or hear anything of the place. It's the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the Island City. That smell: the worst good smell in the world, above all things- that welcomes me and tells me I've come home."
He couldn't 've been more right. It was that very smell that drew us towards those rocks, the rocks which were combating the wrath of the waves for years, withstanding its fury. The very smell that aroused lost longings of loneliness in our parched selves. Reincarnated, welcomed.
Sitting there on those black tripods, staring into oblivion, straight into the sky, thinking, about nothing.. You actually find a new meaning of existence. You live in that moment forever, and a fairy-tale Land of Oz seems real all of a sudden. Another wave crashes, splashing its salt on you, and you come out of your dream world, admiring the brute of the sea gods, hoping that evening never come..
The camera comes out, and the photographs are clicked. A way to materialistically remember what the soul always will. Memories. I stand there, hands outstretched, surrendering myself to the will of the heavens, accepting whatever is to be given, welcoming my tomorrow.. my adulthood, with authority. The moment is captured. We look around in different directions, ready to face another challenge, and each glimpse is saved for tomorrow's remembrance. Click.
The camera comes out, and the photographs are clicked. A way to materialistically remember what the soul always will. Memories. I stand there, hands outstretched, surrendering myself to the will of the heavens, accepting whatever is to be given, welcoming my tomorrow.. my adulthood, with authority. The moment is captured. We look around in different directions, ready to face another challenge, and each glimpse is saved for tomorrow's remembrance. Click.
The clock ticked on, evening did come, and we had to depart. "If I'd died then, I'd 've died happy," I said. But, I was yet oblivious to what that word meant. The new meaning was to find a new meaning. Walking against the winds, on the sea-facing pedestal, heading towards the beach, the scene was threateningly serene. The black of the sky obscured our vision, and the waters rose again. Only this time, they descended on us too, rather ferociously..
It was a Floyd moment. "Comfortably Numb." "Coming Back To Life." Epic. The rains splashing on me, bathing me, but the music remained, occasionally joined by the drum-beats the waves provided too. It was an evening like never before. Technology in our pockets, not fearing the onslaught, braving the challenges, the very ones their masters took on. And our walk continued.. on, and on.. like some gold-brazen path we took upon ourselves. Not a single worry, no time restraint, just the rains to accompany us, with the Here and Now being etched in our memories, for times uncertain.. Joy.
Running towards our destination, the moment had arrived.. We had come back to life. Recalled.
We took a bus on the way, and drenched, enjoyed the delights that coffee had to offer to a frozen man. The wait, and the smoky food dried us, and rejuvenated, we punched our way back home. The journey back was a test of technology- our pocketed gadgets. All OK. Thankfully. The music rung on as the train rambled on, and recalling the day, we soon took leave of each other. 1, 2, 5. I was 5.
I caught the wrong bus home, and had to walk a good while.. I got soaked in that black, dark fury again. A drink, and four flights of steps later, I reached my door, changed into dry clothes, and departed on a mini-journey of sorts again. Walking some of my last steps in my Gardens, we spoke about that uncertain tomorrow I'd told you about yesterday, the Universe, and the underworld. A rendezvous with the animals of the place, and then, the inevitable- goodbye, goodbye!
Back where I belong now: Home. And, back with whom I belong- the same ol' friends I waved out to a few hours back, having me at hello again. We retraced our path backwards, and weighed out our wishes for the next week, and Time calling us underneath the blankets, a cut was soon heard.
Back where I belong now: Home. And, back with whom I belong- the same ol' friends I waved out to a few hours back, having me at hello again. We retraced our path backwards, and weighed out our wishes for the next week, and Time calling us underneath the blankets, a cut was soon heard.
We wouldn't realise it then, but that was only the beginning. There is no end; the Falcon brotherhood had been established eons ago, and the insignia had been long struck. Our story, hanging on a wall, and framed at the back, never forgotten, always reminding us of.. The day that was.. :)
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The Ringing Of The Division Bell Has Begun..
"I'll show you what it's like.. to be the last one standing.."
I moved to Bombay when I was barely ten months old. I couldn't walk, and crawling was the only way to my freedom. It's been seventeen years since I first walked within those very four walls of my home, stood on my feet, ready to face the world.. and now seventeen years hence, I'm back to where I started. Crawling. The only difference being that I'm on my way out. Out to face the world, out to stand on my feet, this time, for real. No parental support, no teacher standing up to me. Friends I grew up with.. withering away, all forgotten like some distant memory I saw in last night's dream. I'm crawling my way out to that distance.. the distance that'll separate us all, and the very thought fills me up with cynicism. Fear.
The truth is I'm scared. Honestly, I'm scared. I'm not afraid of moving ahead, and meeting new people, making new friends, exploring the world outside. I'm afraid of losing out on yesteryear in the process. "Rosebud." A few years later, I might realise that the only time in my life when I was happy, really happy.. content.. was in those seventeen years. A time with no strings attached. No hatred, no jealousy. Just pure joy, as blissful as ignorance. Probably, running hand in hand with my first friend, falling down, getting hurt, and being knocked unconscious, was the best feeling I ever had. Maybe, laughing with them, taunting the others, and feeling free, actually meant something special. Growing up, this acquaintance develops into friendship, and this friendship into brotherhood. Bliss.
Then there were girls. Lust, or whatever you call desire.. "Appreciation of physical beauty in its raw form is one of the most natural of all human tendencies. It electrifies our senses, makes them come alive." The cause for many a fight. I've been through it all. Made friends, and lost better ones, in this war for vanity. Trust deceieved, love betrayed, and a jaded past. Ultimately, it all comes down to nothing.. Nothing, but a memory you'll regret all your life. Where, oh where could it 've possibly gone wrong? Why, oh why! Hurt.
The older we grow, the more we learn.. and the more we learn.. the worse we become. Our seven deadly sins get moulded to combat the world, and that's where cynicism comes in play. The world is a dirty place, and the dirt shapes ourselves for an uncertain tomorrow. Fear.
The last few weeks in this place are the worst. I stand here, falsely believing that I'm strong.. strong enough to face the disappearance of many a good memory. Strong enough to watch everyone leave, and be the last one standing. I look around, I see him leave. I look the other way, I see her leave.. and I see that She just does not care. "Passing phase," She says. "Come, and go.." I continue to believe that I shall be strong enough to take it all. It had always been my dream to live beyond the horizon, in a world of freedom, hiding behind some celestial body, so the sharp embers of the world never touch me. I look forward to it all, but the truth of the truth comes crashing down on me, and consumes me in slow decay. Seeing everyone depart, and being the last one to depart.. withers me. Sigh, vanity. The truth is.. I can't take it. I attend all the goodbyes, and see the tears shed. Probably shed a few myself, and still believe in my strength. I am what I choose to be. I choose to be strong, but my insides, like some cookie, crumble. And, when you're the last individual left, your yesterday, tomorrow, and today seem totally futile all of a sudden, like a lost cause in a battle. Lost.
Not being there with your friends when you should be, stings me. I'm moving away into a new world, a new tomorrow awaits me.. A world where I'll live for five whole years, an entire life might be lost in that time, and by the time I return (if ever!), I might not even be myself to return. I'll be taking all my own decisions, and probably never wanting to return to this city that I've grown up in, this city that has taught me to see the world with my own eyes, this city that has taught me to live. Many years later, you might remember this guy who used to talk, and laugh with every awake breath.. you might remember how much he would give to see the world at peace.. you might remember how much he would laze around, and yet do anything to make you believe in yourself. But, it wouldn't matter, 'cause that guy would then be dead, and a new slave for money would be born. A slave who is taught to fight for nothing but himself, who has to subdue his own ethics to survive in his world, and trust the law more than morality, to continue walking on his chosen path. Again, fear.
I pursue happyness, but I fail to realise that with every step forward, every word said, I'm moving away, far away from my desires. I might be free in many ways in my new world, but I shall never be happy. I'm moving away from all that was joy to me, from all that loved me, and from all that I loved.. And as a friend puts it.. "I cannot promise you that we'll be friends forever, but I can promise you that I shall never forget you." I hope many years later, we meet again someday.. somewhere in the corners of a dream village, and reminisce the times we spent laughing, and talking.. And, living like there's no tomorrow. Joy.
To all my friends, and Mumbai,
Amen.
I moved to Bombay when I was barely ten months old. I couldn't walk, and crawling was the only way to my freedom. It's been seventeen years since I first walked within those very four walls of my home, stood on my feet, ready to face the world.. and now seventeen years hence, I'm back to where I started. Crawling. The only difference being that I'm on my way out. Out to face the world, out to stand on my feet, this time, for real. No parental support, no teacher standing up to me. Friends I grew up with.. withering away, all forgotten like some distant memory I saw in last night's dream. I'm crawling my way out to that distance.. the distance that'll separate us all, and the very thought fills me up with cynicism. Fear.
The truth is I'm scared. Honestly, I'm scared. I'm not afraid of moving ahead, and meeting new people, making new friends, exploring the world outside. I'm afraid of losing out on yesteryear in the process. "Rosebud." A few years later, I might realise that the only time in my life when I was happy, really happy.. content.. was in those seventeen years. A time with no strings attached. No hatred, no jealousy. Just pure joy, as blissful as ignorance. Probably, running hand in hand with my first friend, falling down, getting hurt, and being knocked unconscious, was the best feeling I ever had. Maybe, laughing with them, taunting the others, and feeling free, actually meant something special. Growing up, this acquaintance develops into friendship, and this friendship into brotherhood. Bliss.
Then there were girls. Lust, or whatever you call desire.. "Appreciation of physical beauty in its raw form is one of the most natural of all human tendencies. It electrifies our senses, makes them come alive." The cause for many a fight. I've been through it all. Made friends, and lost better ones, in this war for vanity. Trust deceieved, love betrayed, and a jaded past. Ultimately, it all comes down to nothing.. Nothing, but a memory you'll regret all your life. Where, oh where could it 've possibly gone wrong? Why, oh why! Hurt.
The older we grow, the more we learn.. and the more we learn.. the worse we become. Our seven deadly sins get moulded to combat the world, and that's where cynicism comes in play. The world is a dirty place, and the dirt shapes ourselves for an uncertain tomorrow. Fear.
Not being there with your friends when you should be, stings me. I'm moving away into a new world, a new tomorrow awaits me.. A world where I'll live for five whole years, an entire life might be lost in that time, and by the time I return (if ever!), I might not even be myself to return. I'll be taking all my own decisions, and probably never wanting to return to this city that I've grown up in, this city that has taught me to see the world with my own eyes, this city that has taught me to live. Many years later, you might remember this guy who used to talk, and laugh with every awake breath.. you might remember how much he would give to see the world at peace.. you might remember how much he would laze around, and yet do anything to make you believe in yourself. But, it wouldn't matter, 'cause that guy would then be dead, and a new slave for money would be born. A slave who is taught to fight for nothing but himself, who has to subdue his own ethics to survive in his world, and trust the law more than morality, to continue walking on his chosen path. Again, fear.
I pursue happyness, but I fail to realise that with every step forward, every word said, I'm moving away, far away from my desires. I might be free in many ways in my new world, but I shall never be happy. I'm moving away from all that was joy to me, from all that loved me, and from all that I loved.. And as a friend puts it.. "I cannot promise you that we'll be friends forever, but I can promise you that I shall never forget you." I hope many years later, we meet again someday.. somewhere in the corners of a dream village, and reminisce the times we spent laughing, and talking.. And, living like there's no tomorrow. Joy.
To all my friends, and Mumbai,
Amen.
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