Hard Times

Dear readers, this space will witness a quiet, lazy, and insipid existence for some weeks to come. The reasons though fully known to the owner of the space will not be stated for its sheer futility. The owner needs to settle certain scores and chances have to be taken if the owner wants to return to this space as a healthier being. Besides, too much teaching may disagree with the reader. It is apt to harden the heart, wearying the attention, and mortifying the self-love. Such disturbances of the system interfere with the digestion of the truth. In the mean time I’ve just one word for everybody connected with this space: Prosper.
Asha, chalo sing me a song now, this could be my last…


Now Playing:: Jaane kya baat hai………….Asha

p.s. the previous template did not go well with Frisson, hence its back in the old fashion.

Its Getting Vulgar!!

Its amazing how human beings have made use of “pain” to create that aura around themselves. Whatever they do gives us a slight shock- not the thrill which proceeds from a living being, but a jolt of disillusionment. Not the pain felt when the eyes have been pulled out and one is left with bleeding sockets. The pain I’m referring to is much sophisticated ( well people have made it so.) Precisely, the one following heart breaks, and the pain I’m talking about, is strictly limited to this category, not even the pain originating from the death of a loved one.


Its only human to feel pain but emotions when sufficiently repeated, become vulgar. I’ve been reading a very popular blog off late, you know, the one which attracts at least forty comments within minutes of posting. Now what makes this blogger so popular? Its obvious. Like Narayan, who once discovered his fictional town, stayed with it for life, so it is with this guy as well. Once he found his “pain”, he fell in love with it, and continues to drudge his muse to generate more of it!! Don’t even ask me to break the cherry on the URL, coz I wont. I may do that on gunpoint, however:)


The problem probably lies within me and in my curious antipathy to objects which are so pleasant to fellow beings. I wonder whether these are tendencies of a growing insensibility and a failure to respond to general impressions. Of course, its none of my business to comment on what people do in their personal spaces, but its too disheartening to see subtle things of life being converted into social habits. Slander me as a hypocrite, I wont mind, coz to a large extent I am one.


I, too have written about things which I highly despise now. Besides, facts themselves should disclose their own virtues. A person who is able to benefit by a lesson will, no doubt, discover it, under any husk or disguise, before it is stripped and laid bare-to the kernel. But does love, pain, and contentment need to be circumscribed by dress and fashion?


On a lighter note, if you wanta make it big in the virtual world, you know what to spend your thoughts on. You’ll be a magnet and people will be drawn to you like flies to a pig.

Now Playing:: Kya hua tera vaada…………..Rafi

A Few Good Men & A Mockingbird

Ever wondered what is it that makes a man fight? Fighting, not for desires selfish, but altruistic. Fighting for causes that he believes to be just, fighting for that lost order of humanity, fighting for everything else except himself!! A man, I suppose fights when he hopes, when he believes that he has a vision; a vision of order; a vision of harmony. When he feels strongly that he’s not on this earth by coincidence, and there is some connexion between himself and the earth that he treads upon.





It is a weighty matter for discussion, and one that can never end, and most will believe that it all turns upon an individual whim. Freud would’ve been able to throw some light on it but he’s dead and gone, so just settle with my interpretation. And why am I breathing this fudge of mine into your minds? I think things tend to get a bit idealistic after seeing A Few Good Men save a Mocking-bird.

Vatic in themes and men donning the black raiment to portray the loss of individual voices in the sea of human avarice and folly in its violence confused, do leave enough food for thought for both the viewers and readers respectively.



Now both the pieces are exceptionally well knitted courtroom dramas but “ To kill a Mockingbird ” does not abound with high sounding ciceronian phrases as A Few Good Men does, but both of them equally manage to strike the chord. Atticus Finch and Danielle Kaffee ( Tom Cruise ) become heroes of the legal profession; the former fighting for a colored man and the latter trying to live up to the expectations of a dead father.


Here’s a piece which was nominated by UN as the best Poem of 2006 - Written by an African Kid

When I born, I black
When I grow up, I black
When I go in Sun, I black
When I scared, I black
When I sick, I black
And when I die, I still black

And you white fellow
When you born, you pink
When you grow up, you white
When you go in sun, you red
When you cold, you blue
When you scared, you yellow
When you sick, you green
And when you die, you grey
And you calling me colored??







And do watch this.















And all the time I wanted to be among people with greater fears, but how could I negotiate about something whose value I didn’t know, and until then…



Now Playing:: Ek ajnabi haseena……………..Kishore Kumar

The Verso Beings

I gave them names and sex, even assigned them plausible gestures and made them act and behave as inconsistently as was possible. I even made them speak by the use of inverted commas and other punctuations, and I tried every possible trick in the trade to animate their existence in print. They did not come coldly to my mind. Neither were they mere products of a delirious excitement. They were clearly my alterego; a phase of life that I had left behind but occasionally re-visited for an estimate of amelioration.


We believe we can write our own stories, and every time we think “ this ” is the end, life makes us chase some of its glorious vicissitudes. In real life we cannot understand each other, except in a rough and ready way; neither complete clairvoyance nor complete confessional exists. We cannot reveal ourselves, even when we want to. Intimacy, the word spells horror. Period.


In this direction fiction is truer than reality, and homo fictus a lot better than homo sapiens. They become reflections of an inner self; offering instant indemnity to the dimness of certain moments and giving us an illusion of power over our thoughts.


This blog is largely functional because of that illusion and I prefer it that way. Believe me it feels great to pull the strings of somebody else’s life, no matter how fictional they might be. To be able to post people as babies, making them flinch, and making them find happiness amidst ruins is far better than self indulgence and it’s a known fact that there’s enough evidence beyond our experiences.


Such word masses as Stella, Maaya, Woh Chokri, and many other conversations became my verso beings!!


Now Playing:: Cloud 9…………..Bryan Adams

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

I was a component of the air,

I had never set my foot on the ground.

He pulled me down.

Revenge was inevitable.

I smiled.

A curl of sardonic humor hung on my lips.

I knew I was approaching amusement.

Into his eyes with what passion I looked!

A fleeting moment!

I lulled him into sleep.

Moments later he woke up,

And stared into my eyes.

Oh! He was looking for it!

I smirked.

And it was over.

Cold were my lips,

And even colder was my kiss.

Ask me, how it feels to look deep

Into the eyes of one who loves you,

And say, “ I don’t ”.

It feels like……..“ power. ”

Now playing:: Kahin to hogi...............Jaane Tu

Peeking Out of Our Wells

Relationships end. Stories end. The world ends. The pursuit continues. Then there’s the judgment day. Life comes a full circle, but alas it comes without any displacement. The pursuit begins again. We continue our entanglement in the gossamer ties of life; trying to give ourselves a raise out of our delicious sloth until a day when we go soggy at our knees and collapse with remorse. Crying for things “gained”. Weeping for a past that’s beyond correction and polishing our minds with the warmth of our ambitions for a future, which ironically works in installments!! And before we realize, folks around us begin to fall off like leaves fall off from trees in the first chill wind of autumn. We still cling to life; sweet and sticky on the outside, but all white, messy and disgusting on the inside. Life becomes a moment that gets extended and extended and extended.


Now Playing:: Doorie……………..Atif


p.s:: No reasons attached.
I wish to be among people with greater fears. Its always good to see like minded people peeking out of their wells and sharing their miseries in equal amounts.

The Final Soliloquy

“ You all know how enormously i bulk in your lives, in your neighborhood, in your cogitations, why, i even bulk in the books you read. I have enjoyed this quasi-divine status conferred on me for eons, but now the job’s getting monotonous, and i’m tired of being constantly occupied with human relationships. Either you people do not understand me, or i do not understand your expectations of me; and this my dear followers is no rhetoric. Ever since the time of creation, we have been badly mixing our perspectives; my endless readjustings to your ceaseless hunger, has to end at some point of time, and i fear that the crash is coming, and its coming soon. The warning signs are so clear and it is up to you to pick them up before its just too late!! ”

“ At times i pity your ignorance, because of the wide range of illusions that you attach to me, and one of them being, that i’ll be ‘ permanent ’. I can laugh out loud on that one, but unfortunately i cant laugh at myself. How can i ever be ‘ permanent ’, when all you living beings offer me is a world of shifting relationships, liable-to change; decisions, and you look at me for reassurance, and i try to balance your life, like a juggler for the sake of that illusion that you have so cleverly attached to me. But its difficult to accept that you guys have transformed me into a social habit. Probably, yet another measure on your part to ensure my permanency in your world!! ”


“ It pains me when i see most of you swooning for my cousin, instead of me. I hate the fact that we are relatives of a different order. I’ll be very brief and dry about him in the first place. Some years after you are born, certain changes take place within you and these changes lead to union with other human beings for the production of more human beings. That was supposed to be the sole function of my poor cousin and it was designed that you guys can gain an acquaintance with him only after you have satisfied ‘me’ in the first place; but over the years, tables have turned and my cousin has bullied me enough and usurped me of my high order. But i don’t care, for whatever you say or do, its me who will have the last word.”




“ I know i’m complicated, but you have made me so. When you are under my jurisdiction, you try to get something, and you also try to give something. Gosh! It is this double standards of you people that has made me selfish and altruistic at the same time. I was fated to pass slowly; creating those tingling sensations of happiness, and bringing to life that fourth dimension; the pursuit of which, has been there since creation. I hardly have the drive to provide further assistance to your pursuit and therefore i quit, and i quit in style. I’ll enjoy the spectacle of the world functioning without me.”




" Well, i’m that loser called……….Love."


Now Playing:: Is mod se jaati hai………………..Aandhi


p.s:: The side effects of reading the Love Story for the fifth time.

Bastard

“ You never talked about your dad? What does he do?”

“ I don’t have one.”

“ You mean he’s dead?”

“ No.”

“ So your parents are separated?”

“ I never had parents………..all i ever had, was, a mother….”

“ ohhh……you mean………you are a…….i mean…….god, how does it feel to be one without a father……..i mean……..you know, what the society calls people like you?”

“ How does it “feel” to be one? Just thank god that you are not like me……..my birth determined people’s attitude towards me………they’ll make sure that I die a bastard death……….”

______________________________________________--

Something for social justice, equality, and independence!!

If all the academic phraseology, and all the polite niceties of description and simile are sacrificed to plain speaking, then what does the society call a person, who does not have a father’s name? Bastard. That’s what he/she is referred to as. Nothing else matters. A person who is bastard by birth, remains a bastard through out life and even in death carries the appellation of a bastard. The word sums his/her life, rendering his condition no better than a cripple; at times even worse. He exhausts his life under the shadow of a father, who was never there; yet forms an indelible part of his personality; a name, which belongs to him, but he cannot ask for it……he isn’t legitimate enough!!


We never question our birth, coz we always had a “ father ” around us. Being born and dieing are common phenomenon for us, coz we belong to the “ legitimate ” clan of the society. But why bother to talk about bastards; we have no time for these “ misfits ”: we have other things to do, things that will please us a lot more, says the world. But we do find time, to taunt them by a mock show of sympathy, coz a legitimate can never empathize with an illegitimate. But acceptance is a feat in itself.


The world has progressed. However, our justice, after thousands of years of striving to create justice among ourselves, still remains childishly primitive. We are trained to defend and prosecute, to juggle with words and distort facts, as the conventional morality defines things in our lives.


And after all is said and done, what shall set the seal of justification on the actions, urges and lives of these “ misfits ” ? Is it lineage alone which determines our attitude towards them?


But are not bastards born out of love?


Now Playing:: Mera kuch saaman……………Ijaazat

Her Seance, His Sojourn

He: “ Nothing seems to have changed over here…………….its still the same.”


She: “ Some things and nature never change, dear.”


He: “ Yeah….it has been a long time, since my…………”


She: “ How does it matter now? You had a hunger for eternity.”


He: “ It must have been painful for you………..but, I never actually saw you cry…”


She: “ It seemed to me that you long had been on the confines of the next world. I grieved then that I could not grieve, infact…………..i seem to love the house you died at more passionately, than when you lived……..”


He: “ So it was good riddance for you?”


She: “ I had to retaliate. You were selfish enough to leave me behind……….how could i let you win the race……….you are therefore, still here………no matter how cold you seem to touch……..that was my way of having the last laugh…”


He: “ Last laugh?? Stop kidding!! That’s quite an excuse for running away from reality.”


She: “ Whatever.”


He: “ But whats the point in clinging to this relationship……….clinging to a non entity; physically and emotionally unavailable?”


She: “ You know what………at times a relationship is more marvelous than the people involved in it……..”


He: “ Oh, just cut that crap……..you think, you can pass through the world without ever colliding with it………..life is not a spectacle!!”


She: “ Well, life to me is just a spectacle, which…….thanks to you, is now more beautiful and heartening than it has ever been before………I’m fated to pass this way……”


He: “ Then why don’t you join me……….i’m already ahead of you in this race…”


She: “ I will, in due time……….”


Now Playing: Thandi hawa kaali ghata…………..Mr&Mrs 55

Maaya

It was drizzling; a drizzle where individual drops have their own stories to tell. The breeze; fresh and damp; making the drizzle dance to its tune, compelled her heart to recover itself in the interval, and rise and sound like music played to a happy tune. She smiled, coz she knew that she had finally made peace with herself; an act, that had stretched itself to an unconscionable length of time. She had learnt to forgive herself!!

There was still a leaning towards him, but the true relishing was over, the close familiar friendship; dissolved. But, oh, she wanted to cry; one last time. She tried but, couldnt. She shouted, she screamed. Nothing reached her ears; except a fresh shower of rain coming. The pain remained. Unreleased. The nameless pain from which one feels there can be no way out, other than absolute despair.


In an agony of emotion, she found her way mechanically into the adjoining room, and fell on her knees by the side of his bed. She knew she could never move on. Thinking of a thought, without an ineffectual turning and reference to him was unattainable. It was clear, she thought, that it was love for a real person, however transient it may have been.


" Acknowledgement of her own feelings ", was the only indemnity that she could offer to her grieving heart. Images of the past exceeded beyond, memories................reminding her of what they had been, and seemed to offer a surer ground for resting on..................than the things which were there today and maybe gone tomorrow...........


Now Playing:: Katra katra...................Ijaazat

In Reply...

I think we are stretching this discussion regarding the credibility of the secret a little beyond the purlieu of its resistance, but ours is a free country, and each one of us is equally free to voice his/her opinions. Now, Miss Abhu, your contribution in the previous post was highly welcome, but it would have been much better if you could pick up that unwritten corollary. It isnt your fault; my apparatus for communication was totally dis-functional over there, so this post is entirely for you. To be taken in the right spirit!!


To begin with; i have no problem with the law whatsoever; but the fact that it hoodwinks the believer or the general public for that matter cannot be ruled out. Ok, so it stresses on how badly you want your wish to come true. Lets suppose that you wished for something, you asked for it, and followed the other rules to make it come true. And Bingo!! it does come true!! So its now certified that you wanted that thing too badly; you deserved it, and therefore the whole of the universe conspired in arranging that one for you.


Now you say that all of us follow the law of attraction unconsciously. If that is true, then how would you explain the hungry stomachs with which most people sleep every night?? You cannot deny the fact that a hungry man's need for food is more intense than anything else on this earth. He keeps asking for it all the time, then why doesnt the law of attraction work for him?? Or does it work only for people who are clever enough to put their wishes in writing and go around thanking the universe even before the wish is materialized??


Then would you deny accepting this fact that, " nothing can bring happiness in you; except you. " But dnt you think that by following this law, you are actually conditioning your happiness?? The moment you start wishing, you also start that process of conditioning, not realising that happiness lies within; those wishes can just add to that happiness, however they cannot initiate the feeling.


The law then says that all you have to do is, " just make a wish ". Then its the job of the universe to bring that thing to you. Well life couldnt have been much easier, isnt it?? Doesnt it sound to be perfect chicanery? Whatever happened to the age old concept of hard work and success being directly proportional to each other?? But then who would you like to share your success with; an unseen force that granted your wish, or your own sweat?? Would you be bold enough to accept that the universe is responsible for all your success, while your effort was almost negligible, coz all you did was a mere " wish "??


Now this is where Illusions scores a perfect 10. It says

" You are never given a wish
without also the power to
make it come true.
You may have to work for it however!! ''


Life is not all about following laws, and attracting things; its all about making choices. Its about trusting that if we work hard at finding solutions to our problems, then things will turn out for the best. Wat say??

Now Playing:: Mitwa..........................KANK

Ek Packet Umeed

Read this post on Dave's blog and that got me thinking. I wont blame you if you fail to understand, coz it sure is a muddled construction, or maybe my apparatus for communication is not attuned with your apparatus for reception. Now before you start scrolling, make sure you've read his post, coz i'm too lazy to divulge details, and in the absence of details this post is total junk!!


Now, all of us have heard about the Law of Attraction; not as in between the sexes, but attraction between the animate and the inanimate, animate and animate, and the inanimate and its counterpart. Our unconscious intervention ( at times consciously as well ) with the universe attracts and creates everything thats happening in our lives. This is the pivot around which the Secret seems to revolve. The secret says that, one can pull his dreams into tangible reality, by simply asking for it...........its just a " wish " away........


Its more like offering a packet of hope. The concept says believing is everything. But believing in the concept itself brings us to the acceptance of the fact that an increasing number of people seek happiness, which is based on conditions. The concept may or may not work, depending upon the intensity of fulfillment of your said wish. You feel better if it works, but it does have the power to mess with your mind, if it doesnt. Nobody likes doubting or reviewing his/her aims and ambitions, just coz of the failure of one concept; which seems to be coincidence anyway. How can there ever be a short cut to success? But, unfortunately there are enough buyers and sellers!!



The concept looked so accessible the first time i read about it. I tried. It worked as well. But somewhere down the road i was reduced to the status of a beggar, looking towards the universe to fix things and bail me out of situations uncalled. But is it not a pleasure to make mistakes and learn from them, how else are human beings expected to evolve!


The Universe functions in a strange manner, and the human mind needs the aid of a lot of judicious practices, to stretch the ordinary into the cosmic, and pull the ethereal down to the tangible.

Maybe the concept isnt that absurd as it sounds to be, and as the saying goes, " Never deprive someone of hope. It maybe all they have. " Believe me guys all self help books swear by that formula!!

Now Playing:: Kitni narmi se.....................Dil jo bhi kahey

A Rose for Pooja

How can a young sheath, whose coleoptile is broken, even nurture the dream of blossoming again? What makes it embrace the cold and uncaring Nature; yet making enough room for the dew-drops to create a spectacle for the rustic onlookers? What makes it wait for the Spring? Why this intolerable disinclination to perishing?







I'll rest my poetic faculties for a while, lest the reader might skip it as " poetic junk ". Well, Pooja paaen phoola tiye; A Rose for Pooja; the national award winning Oriya film, is probably the classic example of a kind of transformation, that a film undergoes when, 'a poet enters the studio.' The movie is too ordinary in all aspects, yet manages to strike a visceral note; making us believe that all it takes, is little acts of love to make the world a better place to live in. Its quite paradoxical that kids, often with their quasi-understanding of the world help the adults in understanding the larger truths of life. Maybe thats why people like little children; till they grow up and acquire adult habits of thought and ability to lie, cheat and be dirty.




Pooja, a 13 year old, is compelled to learn a bit early in her life that the world has its dangerous places and barren deserts; and though the world seems to be at a loss to offer her anything substantial, she never ceases to embrace life with all its adversities; deriving all her strength from the unsullied love of her younger friend, Mickey. Though denied of an education ( courtesy the inevitable vamp character ), thoughts and images stole in from other quarters; and Pooja's mind was essentially quick and productive. Nothing lay barren in it; and much of what was planted there, grew, and spread, and became beautiful.




The movie, was a commercial disaster. Who cares to view the world from a child's eyes?


Now Playing:: Saanjh dhale...........................Utsav


p.s:: I wonder if i can ever have a beautiful and innocent daughter as Adyasha ( the girl who played the role of Pooja )?

Woh Chokri!!

Her grief was quiet. She made no show of it; yet suffered more than it could be shown by clamorous sobs or frantic words. The sorrow had subsided; the pain lived on; Life didnt exhaust itself in the usual manner. Everything seemed to be quiet and still around her. She had no defiant air, no affectation, nor too extravagant a display of sadness. She saw the thing in her hand; justified her stance to nobody; her reasoning always rose and streamed through the heart. It is said that a woman rises or falls with the arm on which she leans. The arm on which she had leaned upon, failed to keep its elevation; faithful and firm throughout life. Her thoughts turned backward; head running upon her, in her madness, as much almost as on another person, who was the more immediate cause of her frenzy. Nothing could divert her from him, for the thought of him never left her alone. The thing in her hand shone brightly. She saw her act, as she saw all other things of the past; a touching association of thoughts and feelings. The deed was past recall now, and the time of its commission had been utterly beyond her control. She had no regrets. All she could see now, was her dear old friend, with his outstretched hand, and his grave, sweet smile of welcome. That was substantially, her life. Her actions, thoughts, and sufferings were all concentered on this one important end.


Now Playing:: Aapki aankhon mein........................Lata & Kishore