Sunday, June 13, 2010

Back when we were young

Love was when we were young,
You were seventeen and I, sixteen.
That one moment of the first sight
And the denial in every minute that followed

Evading the looks and shutting my ears to your laugh
I told myself day in and out to get a grip
Until my sleepy eyes would open with your face in them
Washed up on the shores of a sea of dreams

Spring had descended upon me to stay
An irrepressible blush playing on unknowing cheeks
And butterflies flitted in the shadows of silky black strands
That waved when memories came in the scented air

A golden vein of frozen words had come to life
Flowing onto every stray scrap and classroom bench
The love gilded my books with poems
And the songs rung in every pal’s ears

On that rainy dusk years ago, on my long walk home
When we were joyous in the festival of lights
Soft lights had lighted up my way and it was then
I still remember, the air had quivered with your invisible presence

Our paths though had to part forever
And the day came when, under the cherry tree we bade goodbye
My blistered heart thirsted for solace and in vain
I traced your footsteps to catch at least a glimpse.

Years have passed by and we have grown in age and apart
No more do I pine for a comeback, now hopeless
I wish we never cross paths again, for it may be sadder still
If we stand yet again eyes locked, and the rose petals don’t shower

Because my pain, my love
The wide eyed girl and a shy smiling boy are lost forever
And all the love was back then, when we were young,
You were seventeen and I, sixteen.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Things To Do Before I Die - Notes to myself



1.Be Independent

Because there’s only one life and you at least have to be able to be the real you, if you have to do anything at all with your life! Being yourself may seem to be the most natural thing that there is, but it ain’t that easy. There’s always the social norms and hypocrisy to be satisfied, leaving you with little room your originality. There’s just too many pressures trying to “mould” you into the most acceptable format, making me wonder,” Do they really want everyone to be just the same? All the girls this way, and the guys, whichever!?”


Independence entails having the freedom to self expression and realization ,choice of life style ,career ,job and much more .Above all this ,my independence also includes self-dependence .This is where I reproach myself for keeping in pending the plans to take up driving lessons.


2.Chase your dream

Self explanatory! Regretful as it is, so much of our life goes in a job which we may not care about, but for the pay check. Blame it on the special makeup of the society where educational streams are pursued keeping in mind their employability factor alone, we all...all of us… end up being engineers. I see several people bemoan their life for they wanted to do something else with their lives and find themselves helpless. You may or may not have the guts to switch careers mid stream, but don’t let that keep you away from the things you desire the most. They could be your hobby too. Today’s hobby may well become tomorrow’s vocation!


3. Work for a cause you believe in

As much as we blame the society for its ills, we are also a part of the very same society and in our own small ways, responsible for the way the society is today. I often think of something that happened a while ago, when I was working in Bangalore. The city is infamous for its crowded roads and pollution, and having come from a relatively cleaner place, I could not help but complain about the Bangalore traffic to a fellow team mate. Despite being highly educated and forward thinking, my friend said that there was no point in me complaining as nothing constructive would come out if it . Her argument was,” When we can do nothing to change the situation for the better, why simply complain?” I have wondered ever since, “Is there really nothing we can do?” One person is too small in a system and ordinary people are no real life heroes to go around campaigning for change, that too when they have their own lives to keep them more than occupied.


I have discovered, much to my own relief, from personal experience that it is possible for us to make a change. When people come together with a common motive and work towards it, things will happen. It doesn’t always have to be a fight against anything, for fights usually scare most people and they would rather not invite any attention upon themselves in such cases. Let it be so. You could work towards a humanitarian cause like child welfare or the environment. There are N number of institutions and initiatives which you can join to do your bit for the society .After all; all that the society asks of you is to return the favour it did to you.


4. Build my own private library.

The bibliophile in me is talking now. Books have been objects of my affection since early childhood and they have served as my companions through all phases of life. The joy of simply beholding one of your favourite titles is priceless. I have always depended on libraries to feed my appetite for books and have paid innumerous visits to the libraries in my hometown. Books have always been borrowed commodities and one of my reasons to want to start earning for myself, was my desire to own books.


I believe everyone should have a private heaven, a shell to withdraw into and hibernate and spend spells of solitude in .My private heaven can only be a library. There’s also one more secret reason for building this library .I want my kids(When I have kids) to be lovers of books too.


5. Travel

Travel does not have to be an expensive indulgence .There’s the whole of the nation to be explored, with its villages, mountains and lakes. In that way, India is blessed with its variety in topography and different ethnic groups which forms its inhabitants .A traveler’s paradise for as much as the natural beauty as its rich culture and heritage, I should travel to as much of the heartlands as possible.


I could add some of my more fanciful wishes like visiting Machu Picchu at least once in my lifetime and authoring a book .Since these are not entirely in my hands to decide, I would rather not add them to this list. Machu Pichu will always be my most romantic dream and will be so even if it remains unfulfilled. And the book…it is always being written in my head, word by word every minute of my life …

Monday, May 10, 2010

Heal The World





There's A Place In
Your Heart
And I Know That It Is Love
And This Place Could
Be Much
Brighter Than Tomorrow
And If You Really Try
You'll Find There's No Need
To Cry
In This Place You'll Feel
There's No Hurt Or Sorrow

There Are Ways
To Get There
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Little Space
Make A Better Place...

Heal The World
Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me
And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

If You Want To Know Why There's A Love That Cannot Lie
Love Is Strong
It Only Cares For
Joyful Giving
If We Try
We Shall See
In This Bliss
We Cannot Feel
Fear Or Dread
We Stop Existing And
Start Living

Then It Feels That Always
Love's Enough For
Us Growing
So Make A Better World
Make A Better World...

Heal The World
Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me
And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

And The Dream We Were
Conceived In
Will Reveal A Joyful Face
And The World We
Once Believed In
Will Shine Again In Grace
Then Why Do We Keep
Strangling Life
Wound This Earth
Crucify Its Soul
Though It's Plain To See
This World Is Heavenly
Be God's Glow

We Could Fly So High
Let Our Spirits Never Die
In My Heart I Feel You Are All My Brothers
Create A World With
No Fear
Together We'll Cry
Happy Tears
See The Nations Turn
Their Swords
Into Plowshares

We Could Really Get There
If You Cared Enough
For The Living
Make A Little Space
To Make A Better Place...

Heal The World
Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me
And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

Heal The World
Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me
And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

Heal The World
Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me
And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

There Are People Dying
If You Care Enough
For The Living
Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me
You And For Me

I love you,MJ !

Thursday, April 15, 2010

THE DESERT


It’s not just the sun that’s burning my skin

The solar flares blind my eyes causing tears to stream,

It’s not just the undulating dunes of sand

Waves of dust blow at my face making me choke,

At times it’s not even the cloudless sky

It’s all the hopelessness that’s parched my soul.


In my aimless wander , the eyes search

For a fellow traveler to curse the heat with,

As an egotist of a mind looks on

Feigning nonchalance all the same,

And finding not even a shadow of a soul

Says my mind, “You’re better off alone!”


And then the night falls and cold embraces

The solitary traveler, beneath the palm,

Sits down and waits for daybreak

With watchful eyes and wistful dreams,

Listening to the rising howls of the coyotes

Under the night sky, to the pack or a mate.


Another day, a new dawn of the desert

May bring cooler breeze and gentler sun

The unknown path may even lead to an oasis

Where pebbles adorn crystal blue waters

The mind nudges me in its reverie

And says,” The journey may be well worth it! ”


The mind shows the direction and I set off

Following the song of the wind and the flight of the eagle

Over treacherous knolls and past the cacti

To escape where the doomsayers cannot reach

And let the wounded soul heave in peace

Across the desert, I flee to my freedom.



PS: I crossed 50 with my last post.A miracle given my inconsistency!

Saturday, April 03, 2010

On The VTV Note

I am credited with being the last person on earth to have watched Gautham Menon's latest musical romance flick , VTV - the name now so common that the abbreviation would suffice and even save some virtual breath.Its beautiful to watch, what with Trisha looking more angelic than ever,making every girl cringe wanting to look like that.The movie is equally delicious to listen to,holding us in thrall with the ARR magic.But what I set out to do was not write a review on the movie.Enough people have done that already for me to have anything more to add on to it.Having paid my deepest reverences to the maestro musician and the heavenly beauty,I set forth to say why I did not like the story.

The heady love story and the intense pursuit of it makes an interesting beginning.The idyllic view of Alappuzha adds flavour to the visual treat so much so that I now have a bee in my bonnet about visiting Alappuzha someday .Whoever bestowed the title of 'God's Own Country ' on Kerala ,must have had this blessed place in mind .I cannot mask my delight at the glimpses of Kerala and bits of Malayalam the film offered,stoking the flame of sweet love each one of us cherish for our own hometown and mother tongue .

The movie itself though left me with a bad taste in my mouth.Why does love always have to lose to be realistic? Why are parents always the villains of love?In the Indian context ,where children having love affairs are considered a disgrace to the family,isn't going halfway and then backing off,a disgrace to love itself?This is where I disagree with Jessie.She manages to disgrace her family by saying no to a marriage at the altar in front of the whole community ,and then goes on to do the same cold act again when she finally decides to give up on her love.Clearly,Jessie's reasoning prowess is not quite at a level with her beauty .Had the movie taken on the happy ending like the movie within the movie,Jessie would have saved women in general from the age old accusation of being 'cheaters in love'. I hear with amusement how romantics decry women of being traitors in love,every chance they get .

Having rejected the notion of love in a previous post,I feel the need for clarification before going ahead.Love is not allowed to exist,leave alone flourish,in our Indian cultural setup;not that love itself in non-existent.This happens largely due to the fact that love does not always look at religion and caste before happening to the unwarned.So in our pluralist melting pot of a society where we mix with people from every conceivable religion,caste and language, it's well nigh impossible to ensure that you fall only for someone who will match your exact profile w.r.t the afore-mentioned parameters.The older generation would cry fowl on how the younger lot will bring shame to the family honour through cross cultural marriages.No comments there.Its part of the Indian culture to obey and respect the elders.The arranged marriage system is also a part of our long standing tradition and is even the only hope of so many of our young commitment-phobic losers,including me , in finding a life mate .

However , as a member of the younger generation here's my take on love.Going the halfway in romance and then getting the cold feet and throwing love out of the window when its time to show some guts in getting committed to each other for life ,is like desecrating the purity of love.By all means,uphold the family honour but do not disgrace love in the process;for every time obedience is chosen over love, it loses a bit of its charm.For the lovelorn and the lonely heart alike,love is the elixir of life- the magic we all dream will happen to us in our lives and make living worth it .Be heroes in love,not losers!

Easier said than done?I know....

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Hey You...

ALERT : Heavy dose of frustration follows!

In our poor lives, we dream rich dreams. From our lowly mud slums, we look up to the high heavens and dream and hope and pray that our life’s journey bring us closer every day to those heavens. We live in our dreams; our lives become our dream.


We struggle for our dream and we struggle against each other, for there isn’t enough to satisfy everyone’s dream in our land. Opportunities are few and far between and the dreamers aplenty. We push in the crowd, trying to elbow our way to our goal, while some fall away kicking and screaming, the sight of their fall searing us even more and we end up fighting an even bloodier fight.


I meet people who have fallen while I was kicking for my space in the crowd. They tell me their tales where-in they ‘compromised’ for the sake of things other than their own self, with a resigned look in their eyes. I feel sad for them, even want to console them but do not for I may hurt their ego. Their tales deepen the shadow of fear in me .I pause amidst the milling crowd for a second and swallow hard the rising lump in my throat and frantically eye the grey skies overhead for some sign of relief.


We know what we are capable of, and we know that what we want is just beyond that door. Our dreams are closed in on all sides by thick walls that rise unto the skies and the lone door is tiny. We bang our heads against the walls moaning, and groaning at our slim chances .Around me, I see some people weeping for it’s their last chance to get their dreams. If not this time, they will have to give up and fall back into lowly slum lives. They fear that they will be reduced to telling tales of their lost dreams.


Here, we grow up fast, fast-forward childhood and ignore adolescence. We harden our hearts against teenage love and wave good bye to song and story quite early, for we realize there are grim realities to be tackled before we get a chance to knock at our dream’s door. Bibliophiles read only text books, singers sang only theories and dancers danced to the tunes of their syllabi, for we didn’t want to fall prey to ‘distractions’.


It’s drizzling on us as we crowd outside the walls, kicking the slush. There is no ray of light except when the door opens to let a lucky one in. Then there’s a renewed energy and we push even harder in the direction of the light. Braving the darkness and the rain, each one to his very own selfish self, we push and shove, we claw and we kick…For ,in our land, the dreams are many and the chances few…


PS : Bringing to light an old piece.

Recommended music:Hey You,Pink Floyd.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

The Rustic Charm of Ruskin Bond

Writing comes more easily to me when I have music in the background. Or is it that I lose myself in the music, get into the mood and write whatever captures the mood? If there’s any flow at all that’s there in my writing, it is due to the music. It’s also why most of the stuff here are just dreamy. If I were given one topic and then asked to write about it, I would find it boring - the eternal drifter that I am. Drifting brings me to what is holding me in sway these days - Ruskin Bond. My Orkut status already says so.


Ruskin Bond is one author I hadn’t had the chance to read much till now. He is also not whom I would pick, had I much of a choice of selection. Not mush reason for that except ignorance and negligible exposure to his works .I do remember though the short story of the blind girl the author meets in the train to Dehra Dun, that was part of our school syllabus. Though its titled ‘The Eyes Have It’ , in the book I’m hooked to right now – ‘The Best of Ruskin Bond’ - a collection of his stories , poems ,essays and what not ;I am certain the English Reader text had a different name for the story . It’s a love story – the story of a short, sweet romance. Couldn’t suppress a smile when I thought back about those school days when I was ‘taught’ this story .It never did strike me as a love story then. Not at all …. I read it now, and it’s a discovery that the author meant it as a love story. I was probably too young to recognize the faint scent of a tender romance that was the mood of the story. Or was it that the repetitious explanation from the teacher had killed the spirit of the story? A poem or a story cannot be ruined further than by explaining it. When you take a poem , read two lines and explain the meaning , take down the new words and their meanings ,delve deep into the metaphors and the similes ,you are actually dissecting it –literally opening its tummy and looking inside before even seeing the creature in its entire beauty and form . Should not! Not before you give it a full reading at least once, feel the flow and the mood, and lose some time in thinking about it. I guess you wouldn’t get the whole picture otherwise.

Take the story in question – the girl is going to Saharanpur and the author,all the way, to Dehra .So where is the girl going ,children ?? Saharanpur …we bellow .. and the that’s what gets the emphasis ,and that’s what stays in our mind .Tsk tsk .. Totally needless details get the spotlight and poor li’l romance is sidelined. But then, we were children and not to be spoilt with discourses on how the author’s heart went out to the girl .

I digress.

Back to Ruskin Bond.The office library is nothing much to write home about, holding in its general reading section, nothing much other than the how-to guides: the quintessential loser’s guide. Need I say more? I detest self-help literature .Period! So it was a relief to spot ‘The Best of Ruskin Bond’ among such wastage of precious paper like the afore mentioned genre of books. Grabbed it ,started reading and was hooked .The very first story ,’The eyes have it ’, was like the ‘hi there ,remember me ’ from a long lost friend .RB writes candid and simple prose that is heavily nostalgic about his boyhood days in Dehra dun and Mussorie . Most of it reads like first hand accounts of his life, as the ones that are shared among friends over a cup of tea, reminiscing the good old days. He describes his growing up years in the naturally bountiful hill station ,where he had all the time to wonder and be fascinated by nature , the many plants and trees and animals that he talks about with great familiarity, making the reader pine to go back to their own childhoods and relive it once again .As I have said here time and again , I am perpetually infatuated with childhood .For me ,its the best part of one’s life ,and I was always reluctant to grow up .I remember how sad I was to grow up and leave school ,and then later on ,college . It’s a tragedy that we cannot stop the years , live as much as we want is in our favorite age , and then continue with life when we are up for it .

He talks just as easily and eloquently about all the stages of life, from boyhood, to his late teens in London and after .There are also simple, lovely poems that can be enjoyed in one read, like a deep lungful breath of sweet fragrance. Would sign off recommending Ruskin Bond for company for the times when you feel wistfully nostalgic and want to go back in time. On that slow dusk watching the sun wave good bye , sipping sweet black tea , get on that hammock and stretch out with a copy of ‘The Best Of Ruskin Bond’ .

BGM

Track - I am born again.

Album – Oceans of Fantasy

Band - BoneyM

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Long live love!

“Kadalinu karayodiniyum paadaan snehamundo ....?
Mezhukuthirikalaay urukaan iniyum pranayam manassilundo....?? ”

Does that feeling exist in all of its purity or honesty any more? You will need to say a lot to convince me it does .I, for one, am skeptical that love exists – in the full sense of the word where it’s divinely liberating and intoxicatingly uplifting for the soul. I would prescribe music and literature as soul feed instead. Is love even what it is made out to be? I mean, c’mon, is it even that big a deal?

By these musings , I in no way mean to indicate that I have been untouched by the vagaries of romance .Though the story itself is for another day ,I just don’t want you to shake your head sympathetically saying ,”What do you know…” . All I mean is that love is not a very conveniently practical everyday solution. It’s good for the books, for the reminiscences of a slow dusk. In the extreme cases the possibility of future love even makes arranged marriage between utter strangers possible and keeps our civilization going in India. Thanks to this delusional myth for that, cos by the time people realize love is nothing like The love, the illusion has worn off.

The most sublime, uncalculated and in that sense, honest, love happens in the adolescences and mostly in colleges. This feeling has its expiry date set even before it starts for the farewell day of college .The author has seen only too many lovers part ways without the slightest of doubts in their minds. After college, since most people get into jobs and are busy shaping their careers, I doubt anyone pretty much even finds time for love. I have no clue what marriage stands on, since I have already declared that I am a non-believer. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say, the institution of arranged marriage is based on convenience .While choosing a partner in India’s erstwhile AM system, people carefully investigate the social, educational and financial status of prospects, and try to attain a balance as perfect as possible. This could be picturised as the bride and the groom being seated on the two plates of a weighing machine, balancing each other off in each of the above mentioned parameters. Love is nowhere in the picture though. Oh yes, the match making is done all cleverly in the heads of the elders, with love, supposed to just happen since all the parameters have the perfect values required for that chemistry .
I frankly fail to understand how people agree to marry on something as vague as such a prediction . Ah, the myth though still lives ….

Love is a beautiful concept though and is best left unexplained. It’s not supposed to be like anything known before and in that sense, no comparison can ever do it justice .Its most powerful proponents are music and literature, and love finds it’s most exciting expressions in them. For ages now, love has lived in all its truth and vigour, in music and literature and they in return ,have thrived on love .I don’t mind love being a delusional myth , as long as it feeds fire to imagination and creativity ,for, if nothing else, I am a lover of words and songs .

Long live love!

PS- My first post for 2010.Rock the year folks !