Grey

Not feeling too good....I know the reasons and I am nowhere remotely involved, I also know for sure that it doesn't really affect my life but....
Why is it that people actually are the way they are.....Neha's and mine favorite joke-save the endangered species! That I am sure I am.
For the first time the series of incidents that has unfolded is something I cannot talk to,but there is a heavy feeling,pretty much like a stone that you have been walking with for a while now.....

I am quite stunned by behavioral changes or maybe programmatic changes for people have stopped existing just out of flesh and blood.
I want to talk,but I cant and so I am writing.
The best part of the day was Jassi and Kashmir,spoke to someone about the whole experience and the warmth filled in,this person is going there to do some research for his story.....

Feels weird but I am still feeling good,away from self doubt I guess life takes a different meaning.
I am not let down for I chose to find my own way to attain whatever they call Nirvana!

Miss you P and Miss you TB!

Us and We....Who are They?

I have been quite disturbed since the Raj declared the hate for North Indians a few days ago. Filled with speculation I kept wondering about these lines of us and them and how as if religion and caste evils were not big enough for the regionalism monster had to soar its ugly head out.
Back in November last year I remember calling for chai on the phone from the guy near by and he was furious when I addressed him as 'bhaiyya',to me it is still very respectable an address like one calls for an elder brother. He refused to deliver tea and I refused to give up till he confessed that it is derogatory for him to be called a bhaiyya because thats what one calls a man from Uttar Pradesh.I gave him my logic of brother who he did not accept but we did mend the bridge.

I am surprised how we have not made any progress in the last 40 years. As far as my knowledge goes Bal Thackeray had launched a Anti South Indian inhabitants movement in Mumbai, that by 1993 till date have changed gears and have become Anti Muslim. Raj formed MNS on the basis of idealogical differences but what transpires today is no better. The new target is North Indians and to say it in so many words....any non-Maharashtrian is becoming intolerant for them.
Over the last two decades the Sena have graduated for its fangs to reach beyond local Marathi-speaking population but the unchangeable element is the Sena's constant
search for an enemy and a commitment to the politics of violence as a means to an end. Riots,mass killings,damage of property, the Sena today has blood on its hand that is a clear evidence of it being the murderer.
Raj Thackeray carries on the legacy in a rather spooky,uncannily similar manner,keeping one about the family's audacity to propagate violence openly in the world's largest democracy. But many of you must be just smirking to say, but thats politics my dear,but at the same time its a free country too.

The Maharashtra 40 years ago is something I mean the place that I have not seen.But today Mumbai is supposedly the most cosmopolitan city where every individual who is the whos who of the city/country has commendable contribution to give the city the identity of being progressive in all directions.It has politically also changed the city's fate.The UP bhaiyya and the Bihari babu are not isolated. They mingle with the flow comprising of about 15%of the population and that cannot be just ignored as migrants.The average Maharashtrian today,is probably not as insecure as the political gimmicks would make them look like. Alls peaceful,people just want to do their own bit.
The issues of urbanization,soaring price of real estate or the economic growth of the city have darker and lighter shades that cannot have one single point of reference. It needs to be looked at like mature people who would want progress of a nation state.
If the Raj Thackerays of the world are genuinely interested for a good future of the city of Mumbai lets not waste time-inclusive of air-time,energy and create panic through these kind of high-profile agitations against chat pujas.Blaming Mumbai's problems on the economic migrant to me is just not taking responsibility, for not acknowledging that the serious crisis is the crisis of governance.

The drama that unfolded last evening of an arrest and then granting of bail...it was just a loss or resources and all mediums giving into the drama.
For sanity's sake,its the 21st century,we have good things to look forward to and fight a lot of evils,lets not create several Kashmirs all over the country where one is greeted as guest from another land.
Its my country and I bloody well have the right to be wherever I want to be, as long as I am civil.
Another day where democracy put me down, as if the communists looking for their ground by conceptualizing a Third Row was not enough to deal with, as if identity politics does not have too many dimensions,as if I do not have enough issues.

Wired Communication

The fact that we grow up and leave memories behind always sounded very very thrilling to me....till it struck me really hard this time when I moved out of the native land, almost alone, for I had no clue what life had in store for me. I mean I was letting go of something that is the most obvious aspect for anybody.But I guess at times it just becomes mandatory to do certain things.
And till I had this experience I had not lost something as precious.
And somewhere I am glad that now nothing remains as precious, I mean one can do without anything, it hurts for a while,at every interval maybe, but then its gone for good.
And at times if the pangs do not hit me,it does not feel I am alive.

Anyways, I was wondering how do we build these distances over time and how navigate through them. I googled distances in relationships....al I could find was tips on couples managing long distance relationships (and I have done that too much to get amused by it). Then I came across this interesting book review of teaching fractions and ratios for understanding....i mean mathematical concepts as they are,its meant to be so :)
And all this had concepts like relative thinking,absolute thinking,perspectives on change..etc etc.When I was almost about to end it all to shut down and say...chuck it,came up the time-distance relationship, all the train and car speed sums I have never been able to crack them.
But somehow I could relate the explanation, a mathematical explanation to the emotional aspect of estranged relationship.
We encounter the time and distance relationship almost at every lane but do not realize how integral it is.Children's usual understanding of the time-distance phenomenon is based on their experience,but what for someone confused, a constant seeker, never satisfied,always rebelling....almost not normal...how about their experiences? What about their constant struggle to deal with distances, when the third component called speed is never even average?

First I have struggled to establish the complex,who am I,what is my identity kinda thing,have not yet succeeded,but the critical component arises from the fact that
I have had an establishment which had a transition post my speed and displacement,
and then the struggle to fit into the ambit and create physical and mental spaces and then just an explosion to destroy everything.
The virtual and the telecommunication space is therefore the boon and the bane,it keeps some aspects of life feeling dead all over again.
So the fact Speed=Distance/Time somewhere now makes sense.
The distance has grown and time is passing by....fast and the speed towards some destination is therefore at some insane rate.
Hope I reach somewhere that helps the seeker,the thinker,the rebel.

WE.....

WE.....THE THINKERS, THE SEEKERS, THE REBELS


We lost ourselves the day we were born
Since then the search began
To find those of our family

We were confused
For we were given a family of birth
We had friends from our situation
In this funny place called "society"
We traveled
And felt the semblance of the primeval sensation of life
We wondered why we felt at home on the road
We were made to believe we were a little strange
For how many stay away from "home" for so long?
How many become the rebels we did?

We wandered on empty streets in the night
Feeling the wind of the sea, the river, the mountains of wherever we lived…
We had so many questions and no answers we found
We searches, always searched
We searched even for ourselves…

We delved in unfathomable depths of the being
We rowed for months in strange alien seas
We searched for friends of the soul
Somehow no friends we had, ever
Seemed like friends enough…
How could we explain what "friends" meant to us?
Friends were beings so akin to us
They could read our minds
Walk in step with us on those roads of life
Friends were those who traveled with us
Climbed mountains, forged rivers, conquered seas…
Friends were one life breath, strangely
Such few "friends" we ever found in this world

We stayed aloof…from so much
The norms, the religions, thought processes of the world
We risked our lives, our positions, our family relations for our beliefs
We did the things we believed in
Worked for none but ourselves
We were called selfish for we cared
About our own well being…

We fought, we battled,
We ran like mad from so many, so much
We hid, we absconded, we hibernated
Some of us found our soulmates
Some of us didn't
Some of us had homes, children, love
Some of us lived lonely in far away homes
Some of us were fulfilled having found the love
The understanding we seeked, the minds akin to ours

Some of us…after a long time stopped searching having understood that in some lifetimes we were meant to be alone
Our soulmates parted from us, living another life…
May be in another world, probably another time zone…
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels
We ache to get together for nowhere seems like home
We long for company of similar minds, sensibilities
We hurt, we bleed, we pain, we die…
But we live completely, every moment of our lives
Live the good and bad as same
Give all of ourselves to the world…
To nature… to art…
For there is no other way to live we know
We seek answers all the time
We question all the time

We are probably the only ones who know how deep pain carves its being into us
And how full happiness makes us feel…
We are comfortable with extremes
We are comfortable with tears, with abandonment, with aloneness…

We, the unknown ones
We, the misfits
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels…


A forward from a very dear crazy friend whose belief in random-ness: the way of life keeps the glocal (global+local) sanity intact....

on a cold morning.....

It was stressful week,almost those mad times.
And then I just decided to break the shackles.....and cried a little to Blue to lighten myself. After all of that I met happy people, poo n paw, poo by the way is the newest member of the happy club;met her under the random spell but completely adorable.
Then we went for a konkani dinner, walked through Carter Rd, puffed hookah and then ended up in Marriott over coffee, and chatted about old times and those existential questions. I wonder how again I can have met these two people almost accidentally and then life just has giggles.
It is not that difficult to be happy, I guess the blocks come with emptiness and expectations. Thats the only obstacle, everything else gets taken care of. Blue is very right, the problem lies within me.

But all said and done, it was a very very cold night.And then three slightly crazy people walking down the streets of Santacruz which recorded the lowest temp. in Mumbai. Heyo a cold night leading to a cold morning....the next plan of action is to explore more about life and happiness and making best use of fleeting times.....
For more moments to unfold and treasured.....

Happy Republic Day

The Excerpt that made my morning today :)

I admit you are right. I myself... You see, a person I knew used to divide human beings into three categories: those who prefer having nothing to hide rather than being obliged to lie, those who prefer lying to having nothing to hide, and finally those who like both lying and the hidden. I'll let you choose which case suits me best.
But what do I care? Don't lies eventually lead to the truth? And don't all my stories, true or false, tend towards the same conclusion? Don't they all have the same meaning? So what does it matter whether they are true or false if, in both cases, they are significant of what I have been and of what I am? Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object. Well, take it how you like, I was named Pope in a prison-camp.

The Fall

Albert Camus

SHORTS FROM NOW

There was an array of incidents that led to turmoil but the sad part it, it seems to be short-lived.
The India Australia controversy….gawd I am sure Bhajji must be thinking so much for ‘teri maa ki’. When the incident was all over the media, P and me were discussing as to how much everything gets exaggerated for creating news and controversies. The opinionated me said, ‘Indians can’t be racists for god’s sake’. P said why not? The Indian today is racist because Fair and Lovely sales still top the chart.
That gave birth to my interest to understand how we become racists. Well the colonial hangover is definitely at the roots.
Our cosmopolitan attitude also shows the soft corner for the white skin. The Sunday newspapers with the matrimonial ads always have the clause for a fair skinned, convent educated…etc.etc. kind of a bride.
So definitely it shows the double standard we have about racism. At one level when I was just thinking that caste discrimination, class differentials, regionalism and communalism are the set of ills Indians will always keep fighting against and political parties will use them to their favours, racism also joined the brigade.
At this juncture my noble friend, did what he does best, drop in one line that forces me to think beyond the definitions.
He said when we have regionalism, language, state, district, dialect, status, clubs, association, beliefs, religion, education, physical look, outlook and so many reasons. Above all, the universal discrimination of the color of the skin. So how on earth are we not racists? On intent thoughts and going back to sociological understandings, I realized that racism is not stand alone; it is integrated in ethnicity, which therefore trickles down to aspects of caste, culture, region, beliefs and somewhere subconsciously also guides our social positioning!

It is now ingrained in our genes over generations.
Suffering from racist discrimination is now a “normal” human behavior. These have also softly disabled the voice of any budding evolution to human equity and being. A space where there is no walls. It generates breaking news almost every time to provoke perversions of human mind time and again. Often the provocation is forgotten in no time.

I cannot also deny such kind of acts and controversies generates money. Money is perhaps only the universal language, which is understood by all and sundry. And it’s not just the bucks per- se, but "the love of it" that has perpetuated this fundamental sin in whatever form.

Another side of the debate of racial discrimination revolves around the increasing identity crisis that we experience in our everyday lives. Globalisation compresses the world and migration booms, the successful assimilation of races and cultures happens for the sheer need of survival. They have brought forward stories that has/will make or break societies.

To explain the phenomenon we coined and stressed on terms, favourite among them is Multiculturalism, (which implies that a number of cultures live together), has already happened, but it has left communities in a ghettoized state, in Mumbai itself there is the Parsi colony or the Akar Society or Muslim mohallas. As a migrant I have heard tales of not finding a house on rent because of ones identity as a minority religious community.
The only difference is that as we evolve, the parameters of defining the identity of "us" and "them" changes depending on the benefits it affords us, for instance, nationality, class, caste, religion, sex and race and not to forget gender (which is a whole new dimension, and to keep my thoughts in line, I consciously decided to keep off the debate). Therefore as Umberto Eco points out, what is needed is a step forward towards transculturalism, whereby people from different cultures and those subscribing to different identities interact and understand each other.

This requires an atmosphere of respect for differences, tolerance and understanding. But the loophole is we, the all encompassing race that is caught amongst various identities, or lack of them, mostly do not have the patience to do so.
It then results in people discriminating against those who are different.

India for ages has more reasons for bringing up a “divided society”. Discrimination practiced at the highest order. We have perhaps the tallest list of caste, sects and subsects. There has been constant battle with purported racist remarks openly or subtly by both sides. On the other level, the unique and age-old diversity of India renders it adequately suited to adapt to these challenges.

I don’t think anyone living today can be blamed. Or maybe we can atleast acknowledge the existing mode of differentiation and at inter personal levels get more proactive. The facts suggest that a lot of work needs to be done, a touch of acceptance and a return to our founding fathers' concept of equality need to be looked at with a different lens.
It is just fair not to hurt each other in the name of any sort of discrimination? Racism included.

Should not we be a little more conscious in not rendering our support, sponsorships and practice by being conscious and aware of the enormous “space for manipulation” we create within ourselves to be influenced and engaged in differentiations and discriminations?

I am quite stuck, the opinionated me does not have the last words, however hard I may try to. There is perhaps no rights or wrongs. Its time we start living in the real sense. The human race is nobody but all of us, the race needs to run together. The marathon of generations cannot be degenerated the way it is today.
The future still holds hope for the human chain to emerge out of the global state.
But the Indian still would be proud to have won the Perth test!!!!

Before Sunrise, Before Sunset

A simple story beautifully made, a familiar shot, an unknown film….

Its an American film, the first one made in 1995 and the sequel followed in 2004. Under the direction of Richard Linklater this film was a sheer delight.
Now I am wondering what to begin with, I mean the first or the second one I m quite confused…..
But let’s do it this way, let’s start with the second one because that’s where I did find the completeness, that’s where my hope of arbid stays alive, the battle between the real and the unreal seems to cease existing.
Anyways, now nine years later Julie Delphy who plays Celine and Jesse played by Ethan Hawke meet, since their last meeting in Vienna. Jesse’s novel has done very well and he is on a tour and he meets Celine in the bookstore in Paris. Jesse has very little time before his flight back, he asks Celine to be with him in that time.
They start talking and update one another about life since they met last. Jesse is married man, father to a son and a writer by profession and Celine is an advocate for environment dating a photojournalist. Both have reached thirties and then they discover each others dissatisfaction in life at different levels.
They go back to their old meeting nine years back and slowly let out reasons for not meeting one another as promised. As they had never exchanged any contact info they lost each other till this day.
They talk about their present lives, their lives that went by, about coffee in Paris, their last meeting and in the process the old flame shimmers slowly. They blame one another and regret not meeting as promised nine years ago when they parted. Jesse confesses he wrote the novel with the hope that he would met Celine.

The last scene left me quite enchanted. In Celine’s apartment as she dances to herself, she tells Jesse that he would miss his flight and Jesse answers back “I know”

As I looked through the credits the screenplay was developed by Richard along with both Hawke and Julie. All three were in praise of each other for the collaboration that created the film that was intense and meaningful and most importantly close to their hearts. There were extensive and very meaningful dialogues in the film but they were simple, and simple for one to feel that its real!

Now coming to my amazement about the film is the simplicity and the courage and conviction all these people had, how could they think a 90 minute film could work where all that happens is two people walking and talking? In both the films the hyper-real element in them probably makes the struggle between real and unreal end completely. Before Sunset I think was shot in real time, and it gave me a feeling of complete intensity where I have not missed a single moment or even like a fraction of the moment.
The regular aspects like writing a book to find someone back, might be fictional but gives me a sense of belonging, or being dissatisfied with lives and not letting that out because you know the other person anyways would understand and raising the question several times ‘What if we had met as we had planned six months later from where we left each other in Vienna?’ ‘What if we had made choices differently’? They seemed to be my questions, maybe I would consider them to be stupid in a different mind set but at this point of time, after I am getting on to the other side of life, it seems I had choices, but did not have the radar, often leading me to think of the preciousness of each choice that I have made, courses, people, places…..everything. I tend to get into these bouts of regrets at times…..but the most beautiful part of the films is, it does not end with the regrets. Somewhere that’s why I could say blue and me have an unique story, we don’t know where we crossed and where we lost way but its each moment lived and making new chanced meetings.
Its just made me feel that looking for the skyline isn’t a futile exercise, the madness of youth will always be the guiding star.

Please watch the film if you haven’t and if I haven’t spoilt all your suspense yet. And secondly please listen to the film carefully, a lot of existential questions hovers in the sky and if your partner in arms is the unreal kinds, an evening over wine and talking about sunrise and sunset can be the best romantic union.

The Unsung Hero

Remember from the Excerpts the g numbered story that I was to write on…My Unsung Hero….Just spoke to him and I am feeling quite numb, that’s what he was stored in my phone at one point of time in life – Comfortably Numb. It is most bright relationship that I have had, or let’s say if I had to define extremes, this one is the milestone.
The first impression was rather nonchalant, but then through others when the proximities became closer I had already stepped into a world that I did not know existed in the human form. It was like regular strong personalities one comes across and then from there move towards closer bonds, over Harry Potter or Batman films, Kebabs, funny possessed relationships or intensive discussions on issues that students worked on during their tenure in the institute. From there we moved to the slightly complex issues of ownership, that is what broke the ice between us…..the foundation was laid and I had encountered the Passionate trust that took me to venture into a wild sea of newer emotions which would give birth to newer colors everyday.
Differences of opinions is what epitomizes our relationship, all that I am not, he is and all that he is not, I am, so I keep wondering how does this work? How did we come a long way taking disasters on our strides? I do not have answers, or maybe I do not want to have.
I have spoken a hundred times about the relationship and the turmoil etc. but I have always missed an element, an element which makes him my hero somewhere (I just hope he does not read it…for this would make him bloat and he would reach the seventh heaven, as if he is not enough obsessed with himself).
From the time I have known him, he has never been confused, he does not suffer form the ailment of what do I want to do in life….like I am still exploring issues my interest really lies in, I am exploring different mediums of communication and every fortnight I think is this enough of what I am doing? Is this all that I want to do? And of course considering the fact that in the developmental sector working on developmental communications small fish like me who has been around for a year and a half or lil more do not earn money to have a lavish lifestyle, I often question that in comparison to others….this guy has been the anchor.
His passion and commitment towards his work I outstanding. Nothing really can suppress his enthusiasm for the he has a tremendous control over the area of his work.
During my work grey days he is the one who pops up as an inspiration, and every time I hear from some juniors that how highly they think of him, I smile to myself and say, that’s what he just does, like magic!
In my black episode of life that existed from July to October last year often I would hear from him, about his work and the conviction that he started with, shimmering its way up to the point of several accolades, that made me create courage within myself and allowed me to make a comeback, and even if I go away this time I know my conviction can sail me through the final lap of the race.
The guy is just 25 years old and he has made it all by himself in no time at all. He has seen the ugly side of it but has stood strong, like a rock, and often alone without a soul believing in him. I do not know how he does it, often it seems unbelievable that he does it but ya that’s the true story.
Koshish is way beyond just an effort today, its like an institution risen from its infancy to adolescence, and now its rebelling in its own ways, and interestingly for the better.
The second child took birth in December 2007 which is a giant baby called the National Alliance and this guy has been the prefect father, it was almost an unanimous decision to give the custody of the child to him, and a proud moment for me, I so regret I could not be there. Sorry Dumbhead, I missed yet another moment but I am sure you would make it up to me for better ones. Or as he says, the best is the best! And its right here but the degree of it keeps getting higher and better.
I now suddenly feel that the several emotions attached never got communicated. We end up talking about this that and the other but I have never thanked him for being the hero he has been. For being the one man army, for being the live version of Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘I am a Rock’.
So I have a biography to write and that would be quite a Steve Jobs inspirational story kind….for now I am glad My Unsung Hero is around and an inspiration to live with and then I can be happy about royalty I would get ;)

Haven’t said it in a long time – Love you and that does not say enough.

BRAINLESS

The state of mind at this point of time is not even brain dead…seems it is brain less…. Ahhhhhhhh….
Work is been very very boring today, to the extent that I feel like puking and getting it out of my system.
What do I feel like doing? Well ahhmmm….I feel like going for a drive and get drenched in the rain and have a cup of coffee, not talk or even think. Do I want to do it alone? Well I do not know seriously….. I mean the only person I think I wanna be with is TB, he is not the questioning type, off late I have been missing him; the reason is very simple, he has broken the shackles of the vicious cycle (I hope, n pray…please u have right?)
Anyways Mumbai seems scary today because at this hour everyone is working whereas what I want to do now is find people, go to some nice sea facing house and then have wine there and pass out. Maybe I am also looking for interesting company today, just to blabber or maybe just to listen to them blabber about the universe, where nothing absolutely is real. Oh just re-read what I wrote….man I am superbly ambitious I must say….I want INTERESTING, RIGHT NOW AVAILABLE,NOT FAMILIAR COMPANY who can talk UNREAL!!!!!
Is the bug of loneliness spatting on me? Quite possible but not really, I mean I think its psychological.
However much I say that the caravan set up now seems something I am immune to, I guess I am very very unhappy about it, I mean I jus want a space where I can happily go back to. Calvin I miss your space. And this damn week man….its blooooddddyyyy long. I wanted to make sure if I was the only one fooling myself but P, S, R everyone seems to agree to me, therefore I am on the right track 
I donno why I am happy about that? Its like in a seemingly small week nothing really changes and so will it be now, just that I will have to deal with all the irritation for TWO full days. I can look forward to Friday and then to the Saturday, both the days I have nice people o catch up with, part of the unreal almost you see.

So what is the crux of my problem now?
People? Not really….I have a few who like me, so I am satisfied. I am happy that most of who like me also can stand me. And I can also stand them. So am I unhappy with work? Well definitely not, its been a blessing, I guess lets just not be so mean and say it is a BAD day at work and otherwise too………

Dun even bother…life's like that…shit happens and then again shit happens….
A familiar line, just the art director changes every time.

Lets give it another shot @ the PENDING things to do on the list...........

The Potion Called Hug – the irreplaceable ingredient of a Lovestory

Once upon a time there lived a Prince. He had given up his kingdom to search for his own identity. It was the winter months and bagged with several questions he sat in the corner of a beer bar in the countryside looking for tranquility in the company of few friends.

Suddenly a stranger walked in. She knew all the others except for the prince. They got talking and it ended up being a nice evening. Then they lost touch for sometime. It was a busy kingdom and the king made everyone work hard, but as fate would want it, they met again in some alley. These chanced meetings gave them a lot of comfort and created synthetic thoughts in the prince’s mind.
The stranger was strange because she got caught up in several chaos and refused to paint the town synthetic. The strange land that this stranger belonged to, the prince paid several visits there. Everybody in that land liked him, the stranger was confused. She knew that the prince was a nice soul but she was a commitment phobic and she knew she did not want to hurt herself. So she fled to the land of visual pleasure. As she basked in that beauty she also missed the prince. With all tangled thoughts her companions convinced her that the dream to become the synthetic princess was beautiful. So when the stranger returned to the hustle n bustle in the humid may mayhem she decided to give into the color of the day-purple haze.

The prince and the stranger became inseparable friends until doomsday struck. The stranger was detected with some serious disease and she returned to her cocoon. The Prince was sad and lonely and refused to associate with the stranger or any mortal. Both of them fought every day often deciding to end the synthetic paints on their walls. The days would be fierce and bitter, the nights-long and teary. The bystanders thought life was ending another story of the tinseltown.
It was this time that the stranger decided that she was too much in love with the prince to end the story midst all the distance. She decided to go back to the tinseltown and meet the prince. She summoned for her skyhorse. As she prepared for the journey she was nervous, to have thought that she was losing her prince charming. In the cocoon her mate called blue gave her the hope wand, and the stranger summoned for the sky horse. As she floated over the clouds, she wondered how would the prince be, would they have the same spark, would they still feel so effortlessly drawn towards one another? At one turn the stranger almost thought of returning to her cocoon but the next moment she gathered all her courage coz it was nearing the tinseltown.
She knew that one moment would change their lives once again.
She clutched her heart and walked towards the exit.
She saw the prince standing there.
They hugged, it was little formal. That moment was gone and left her blank.
They rode back to an abode, the little, warm corner that had all their memories. There the Prince let the doors open. The warmest hug ever happened between the two people who broke the shackles of separation and recreated another fairytale.
It is indeed the moment and the moment coupled with the potion of hug…..the best potion that restored peace in the tinseltown.
What happened next is yet to be unfolded, as of today we heard that they lived happily ever after.
6th Nov 2007 – 15.00 hrs

Excerpts

Theres a string of stories.....and I am happy,ofcourse on the happier side of confusion. However much he says we will have to deal with it,I know that it means a lot to have dear friends around,who recreate the blue bright colour of the sky.
Gotta remember -for stories
a-the simple potion of a hug in a lovestory
b-my lizard buddy
c-the bong hater bong and the celebrity anjoli
d-sleeping under the sky because I finally found the courage to do it
e-before sunrise,before sunset-stories can be as real and blue n me have an unique story :)
f-the bad bald man
g-my unsung hero!

yipeeeeeeeee......the color of the day is happy lilac for all the times to come,happiness..please hold on.

Morning Manna

Its Mahaaastami!
Its a BIG day somewhere.
Lets accept the fact that caravan life is nice and exciting!
Lets accept hopeless romantics never die
Lets accept theres still lotza to be done.
And all these acceptances are there because the dove wanted it that way.
The balloons are transparent but still have lots of colors.But creating newer shades have always been exciting.
The smoke is here to stay but the sky is clear,spring comes unannounced like most other things in life but a warm welcome often ends in friends in the hearth of coffee and long heartfelt conversations.

Thunderstorms

The sky suddenly turned red.
The balcony smelt of the want to commit the sin of breaking free.
The wind was whispering naughty charms into the ears,it was just a saturday night!

There was some music that played within but did not reveal itself.
It was an invitation to a sudden beach party that couldn't be turned down.
At the same time there was the fear of death-eaters hovering around whose charms were
stronger as Lord Voldemort had instilled special powers;it is not his fault coz he wants to be the ultimate wizard,he wanted to own all the magic that surrounded the air,dark arts was just an excuse.

Finally it started.
One could hear the pitter patter thuds on the window panes. From there the noise grew wild. The rains finally touched the thirsty earth.
The Dementors and the Death-Eaters had vanished.
Harry,Ron and Hermione breathed a sign of relief coz it was just a dream. For 19 yrs Harry's scar had not pained,so alls well.

Soaked to the skin after a small stint into fresh air and open sky,one wonders how a small cloud burst can bring so much joy!
The call aint faint,lets start without the Invisibility Cloak,to explore what never existed.

6th October,01.20 hrs,Kolkata.

MICROSMS YELLING IN SILENCE

What has gone wrong is still unknown.
Being homebound all I can say is, I do not have stories anymore. I have run out of them.
I feel inspired but they do not inspire me to make the breakthrough and the series of events has helped me to reach the point that I am jinxed.
But when I am unable to sort the causal effect I am perturbed with the smoky thought that once upon a time I loved my home, no matter how difficult it was I always ended up smoking a few puffs in the canteen or down the oly stairs and life would be back to being simple.
Have I outgrown the love? Have I lost touch with reality? Or the aspirations have taken the humane being out of me?
Never did it become a shame to admit that life is mediocre, it’s a simple living, drinking moments, staring at the sky and weaving my dreams. Often when I encountered reality I faltered but I was happy with the learning it offered.
The simple pleasures of walking from school, bunking tuitions, playing pool for hours and then be penniless. All of this was adventurous. How was I perceived never made any difference. I was happy being a little off the track; often wondering how would it be if I could be a woman like the others around; and enjoying the moments when a few special people made me feel the instincts. I fell in love with history, poetry, literature and different kind of people. It never needed to be recognized. I was happy knowing that the love was an inspiration to my own self. I grew up, fell out with friends, moved to the capital but it was my love for home that I came back (not to mention that women all around also made me chicken out) and then restarted another chapter called college. The three years just zoom passed and now it seems I was dreaming with eyes wide open!

There were these bouts of running away from home, to the mountains, to the sea, but I always cherished coming back here, to my nest where I woke up with no worries. I walked to the bus-stop and took the most crowded bus because I was always late and never needed to think about the crinkled clothes. There was no fear that time was running out, I was happy knowing I had all the time on the face of earth to create the ladder that would take me to the moon. I never had to keep the reins in hand. Could get sloshed and make a fool of myself. I could say anything and not worry about repercussions, I did what I wanted, and I rebelled but never had a heavy heart. I could lie on the Presi grass and say theres a world beyond this and I will take you there, get happy with a heartfelt ‘close dance’ with friends or sleep in the green room behind Derozio coz I was stoned outa my senses. I fell in love and out of it because my heart felt so, there was no calculation or speculation. I could say I wanted space, or wanted attention and the crime comrade ego would never seep in.

But all of this seems to be having disappeared. And to the extent that I keep hunting for them and they never seem to be coming back to me.
I am a perpetual moron and nobody seems to understand that.
I have no faith in words and nobody seems to believe that.
I am grey for months and nobody seems to acknowledge that.
Every moment I am made to feel like an absolute jerk (and these days I know I am one)
I do not have the opportunity and means to run away and complications seem to be the way out of inner turmoil.
The other day I described the phenomenon as the disease I thought I would never be infected with – Attention and Occupation seeking syndrome (read acute disorder)
I do not blame the disease. For I have never been not occupied. I always had some micro clue of how life will unfold but now I seem to have lost the enthusiasm for the same.

A geographic location was never an issue. I know I can stay anywhere where there is food for thought.
My home was always inspiring. Every where I would go when I came back, the city seemed to welcome me back with all the warmth. The Howrah bridge was a sheer delight. I never complained of the busy, polluted, roads. I saw the potential of recreation in them. The potholes seem to have stories of disabled administration. Poschimbonger Rajniti (the politics of West Bengal) was something one would look forward to. From Trinamul’s Mamata Banerjee or one DYFI calling for bandhs every fortnight seemed ok. It was a free democracy and it was a form of protest. I never thought it led to a day’s loss of revenue for the government of the state always had enough to cover up. The Bangali Adda was a sheer delight and I did not complain of the hours of human power it wasted.
I loved Tantra, I loved Someplace, I loved Park Street or the delights of Rabindra Sadan or Indrapuri Studio. I loved the hustle and bustle of either Gariahat or DumDum. I loved the solitary revelations beside Outram Ghat, I spent lifetimes with people I have not forgotten in the boats. I loved the regular rockbaji that randomly turned into long drives/rides by the Kona Express highway.
Now Tantra is disgusting, Someplace has become less of a music lovers paradise and more of a hep place to be,Peter Cat never has place, Radindra Sadan is always crowded, Garihat and DumDum seems to be more of an ordeal. Outram Ghat is frequented by all and sundry, rockbaji is not expected and the people have migrated. Even Kona Express highway is polluted!
I loved the crows and the sparrows that frequented whenever it was breakfast/lunch time, as if they were part of the family. I do not appreciate that anymore. I loved walking on my own through the lanes of the good old city but now the fear of being noticed and perceived have gotten a better of me.
The sense of never having enough is always taking its toll, right from the kitchen to INOX theres seems to be nothing exciting. The world is very small and every corner I meet people whom I do not feel like talking.

I am defying the laws of nature. (And not by choice, but by compulsion)
I do not feel attracted to anyone/thing anymore.
There’s is no gravitational pull and I am too lazy to say hello to the sunshine every morning. As much as I would hate myself but an ace critiqued friend’s words come to me more often, “I am disappointed with people, I know I have a lot of expectations from them” and when they are not met, I feel futility of existence. But here the story is more dismal.
I am 24, I am unemployed and broke and suffering from small intestinal cancer that has led me to superimpose restrictions of severe forms. I am confused about love, companionship, commitment etc. and do not know yet if I should give up satisfaction for money or money for satisfaction. Not to forget that right now I do not have either.

Of late I have realized that the only true companion in life is definitely nobody but Cigarettes. It is the only thing that does not seek long term anything. The more you inhale (u can read suck) the lesser it grows. You do not have the fear like in the case of unprotected sex, no issues about condoms, contraceptives or waking up to find you got sloshed and therefore horny and ended up in bed with the most unlikely creature of the human kind or the fact that you end up feeling that you want to be with this person for the next however number of times you have sex! Both of them are not just injurious to health but to mind, body, heart and soul.
As I write this I am atleast feeling good about the fact that sex is not the driving force as of today ;)
Coming back to cigarettes, they are very human in attitude but personality wise they predefine liberation. They die hundred deaths yet remain equally desirable. (And if not anybody else I know one Dumbhead is very disappointed to know how I feel about the lifelong companion.) But that is so true. Almost ideal, it does not expect and it does not raise expectation. How I wish the component s of the same could be transformed into something real! Wishful thinking. But atleast cigarettes make me think, I mean they try and stir something that I thought was dead for a while now.

So the synopsis of the story is there is no story anymore, and if I do not discover stories ahead I am going to rust, then will be infected by fungus, then will smell awful and then will be discarded. My dreams will die an untimely death. I do not know what can I do to keep them alive. All I know is a story has to be born out of nowhere and head to the Oscars. I will be the pathfinder and the one receiving the trophy, who said imaginations need to be real? Or who knows when reality seems like imagination.
The moron still is grey and hates making exceptions for smart ones!

2nd October 2007
16.49 hrs,Kolkata.

iNspirations

Bismillah

Its a habit of yours to walk slowly.
You hold a grudge for years.
With such heaviness, how could you be modest?
With such attachments, do you expect to arrive anywhere?

Be wide as the air, to learn the secret.
Right now you are equal portions clay
and water, thick mud.

Abraham learned how the sun, the moon, the stars all set.
He said, No longer will I try to assign partners to God.

You are so weak. Give up to grace.
the ocean takes care of each wave
till it gets to the shore.

You need more help than you know.
You are trying to live your life in open scaffolding.
Say Bismillah, In the name of God,
as the priest does with a knife when he offers the animal.

Bismillah, your old self
to find your real name.

I am looking for solace midst the greyy days and soulmate sent this.
I was talking to Sen and we realized sustaining the forever available inspiration is the real challenge and Soulmate again came to help row the boat midst the stormy sea.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all !
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

the dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Rumi Lives on.

Below the Belt

I love new york
Just like the t-shirt says
The streets the shops the subways
The unimaginable meld of people in constant motion
Rushrushrush
Expressions colours opulence style
Grungeandgarbage glassandsteel
Old brownstones
Parks museums fire escapes
Wailing sirens stern faced cops
Warm greetings in elevators smiles and nods
Greasyfoul smelling restaurant basements
Brightlights brighteyes
Miniskirts and motorised skateboards
Office hour energy on the 4 train
Twilightzones on the latenight shift
Greysuits and blackdresses
Drunks on sidewalks
Open forthright resilient
Ambitions and aspirations sprawled in the sun
In centralpark
Streetcorner jazz packed pubs lonely alleys
Black net stockings and lipstick gashes
Uncanny weather forecasts
Yong lust groping in the shadows
Fifthavenuefashion and fuckfoul language
Spanking new sneakers on the way to timessquare
Hi! Howyadoin….getoffmyface you m….f…..
I just love it all.

An evening spent demystifying not so good photography but perfect packaging in Seagull Resource Centre while the weather was perfect for anything and everything.
Us, the 'small fry' s in the photography world constructively criticized the photographs at our heartiest content.
But definitely one could not miss the sleek presentation. We mused over the blurbs,the very first one is the one with which the post starts.
For me the shots were absolutely random,often raising the questions of limits to intrusions into privacy. Maybe it comes from the social side that limits my perspective with certain kind of photography but the feeling of the collection not having a story meant a difference.
It was elitist which is not something that an ad photographer can really help.

The photographer goes on to say how the black humour of NY made him fall for it instantly. He is an instant sucker for black humour! While on the other hand he goes on to say that its the excitement of NY that led to such shots where the concept of frames and composition ceased to exist. And it was his homage to the city.(And not to mention my love for Mumbai was at the peak all over again :) )
The fact that he acknowledged the shots were too random but since there is a need for 'artspeak' and every artist must have a statement,was NY below the belt, born!

And thats called presentation, the perfect blend of words and look.....kudos to the strategy of marketing-obvious cliches, as random emotions and love for the city.
Who says theres nothing around? Theres an element to learn from everything...always!
The photographer is Pradeep Dasgupta.
While I go and check the rest of his work to get an understanding of the man's work,
if interested you could also check pradeep dasgupta's work.




The image is courtesy Dear Sidd!

I Bleed

And I bled
I bled timelessly
You stood there, still. Far away
And stared at me with steel in your eyes……

I saw the gaze
And I saw I bled
You gnawed me with your gaze
But no one heard my silent scream
I bled
As I surrender
I barely hold my last breathe
Barely breathing
You watch me bleed
You gnaw me with your eyes

Frozen Time
Frozen thoughts
Frozen Feelings
And Frozen blood…..
I have learnt to live with it
The dark red clots, almost black
Cringed, damp, dead
I saw my old self
It has lost its voice
But it stands tall
Like the way you stand still and smirk
Like time never knew how to tick away

And I bleed; Its not red anymore
Its black, and the serpent is basking in the stream of the black, cold blood
Colours have lost their lives
But now I own the pain, n I still bleed
You will never see it
I have travelled to hell and I am still alive
Have felt how it feels to die
When you left me all broken
I have sat and watched you cry behind the sky

You hold the earth to live for a little more
But your craving is voiceless
Your soul is mindless
The love has gone deaf
And the lust has lost its way into shrouds of dormant corpses

Its my turn now
Frozen Blood
Frozen Thoughts
Frozen Time
My liberation has come with your treacherous death
My suffering has finally seen daylight!
My liberation has arrived
I lay bare
And I bleed, Beyond Time.

Somehow I know I cannot create poetry anymore….that hurts. This piece almost resembles stuff I would write in school! Sad but true, poetry is lost…..

17th September 2007

Dear Sam

Dear Sam,

Was wondering how do I write to you, where do I begin?

The earliest memories that I have of you is one specky woman in Pyjamas n T-shirt walking about the campus. I always thought of you as one of those types who would get to the library and not share notes with classmates. The stick conversation seems funny when I look back. I mean why would I get sticks for you; but there was a tinge somewhere that you were weird ;) that I guess was it.
Finally the lovestory began, by the sunset point at Kanyakumari. The smoke, the air and of course of our eternal favourite TQ! And how in the train we were actually like estranged lovers and then onwards there was no looking back.



With you I saw through the most intense companionship with Passionate Trust. From SBI and how we stood bare infront of each other, to the best Diwali gift ever to the tears of another woman in our lives…..n the sweet-salt tears that is here to stay because it reminds me everytime of the journey we had begun in the strangest of circumstances.

Then the next calamity stuck of 26th July. From Nagraj to B the string of incidents flashes by and I can see myself smiling. Strange things happen over disasters. Each day I have spent with you have been special. I have learnt to look at life differently. I have built a control over the rebel child. From Daman to “our gang” to Jinx to the hours of spending seconds and they getting the senti-sam signature….I guess words were/are/will be never enough.
From one Festival to Fiery Red Flower and finally coaxing me to believe in love and creating Calvin in my psyche to educating me to Rumi, Manto or History, Architecture, Religion or being with me to raise the toast to my first job or being the radar of the boat when the sea is storm struck, I do not know how did I live without you all these years.

In the last two years I have travelled and captured the country with you. There was only Goa without you and you saw how badly I captured it; I would not say I did not enjoy the moments that you were not around but in each of those times I have smiled secretly thinking how special would it been with you around  and you know what sometimes I feel it is just not about physical proximity, there is so much more to it. The moon outstretching its arms over the snow clad mountains in Kashmir, the riot of colours in the sky in Kovalam beach or letting the mystic clouds play with thoughts from the hostel windows. I never thought that conversations through all five senses and believing in someone even with the sixth sense could have been possible had you not been in my life.

I also wouldn’t have known one Shazz or one Shadan and most importantly found another Ammi. She has been another dimension of a parent to me. For that matter I would not actually have also accepted the huge mass on which I eventually rode in my life with the advent of a new year. I wouldn’t have not been able to get over the nuisances of Shalimar Bagh; I would have never been able to deal with the never ending restlessness etc etc….gawd please I have not become so good. I am still trying. 
From late night Bawaara Mann to TP by bandstand; it seems spooky how we have lived people together. I can never imagine making sense of two years of TISS and life after that had you not been around.
You keep telling me how I have changed your life but lil princess it is you who has changed mine, from one rebel I have learned to take a deep breathe and appreciate life as if it has so much to offer.

It is a phase where role reversals cannot get more accurate and we both know how everything seems to be trapped how the highs and lows leave their impressions and we keep sailing in our aimless destination. The parallels seem uncanny but the comfort zone makes every hurdle look worthwhile. The perfect combination as we said “u, me n Bombay” or maybe Kashmir, Kerela, Delhi, Punjab, Rajasthan but I just hope and pray every day maybe it will someday be different continents but one Gayatri 702 or a Miami penthouse will be waiting for newer stories to unfold.
So the resultant factor is every time the comrade–in-arms are together every aspect of life seems to be easy to deal with.
Often when I had been reading about Calvin and Hobbes I realized each time I read it each time their relationship is evolved and that is precisely what has helped me over time to atleast give shape in my alter-ego about the relationship we share.

The more I try the more I see myself getting carried away in precision of moments lived/not lived together. It seems a neverending saga and I wish to keep it as a never ending saga, coz some stories must not have an ending, what s awaiting next is where the mystery lies, and then there is of course the element of never having enough, of dreams and reality and the eventful unwrapping of incidents, people, emotions, and silences.
I remember how the other day I told you how I wish I would have met you in school. Then I do not know what else would have changed but we would have created another epic!

Anyways, it is crazy, how you have been the single point of constant relevance in my life and how I sit by the window teary eyed and smiling lips only to wait for time to give me yet another set of experiences that cannot be captured in words yet creates ripples in minds of two souls whose happiness and serenity lies in each others beings!
Love you and it has been long when these two words were not enough.

9th Sept 2007

The Beautiful Meaning of Meaningless-ness

I had been leading a flustered life and it makes me sick.
Beyond a point I also know it is not possible to talk, I mean how much can one keep saying when life has been taken over by wrong kind of restrictions and keeps me quite confined where headspace s also most sought after (beyond several other things)

On such a day I went out to meet an old friend who made lotza sense and it was good to see him expressing himself full throttle.
He imbibed a lot of enthusiasm about carving the niche and having the patience to do the same. All charged I knew there was no dearth of opportunities but at the same time the truth of stagnation and having the worst challenge in life to keep thee patience.
Then I met another friend whose life is also fairly screwed, over apparent and not so apparent reasons and then I began my journey of demystifying the beauty of meaninglessness.
We had nothing to talk about because we did know exactly each others state of mind, at the same time when we got to talking about other people we figured they were also screwed at some level whereas the tragedy lies in the fact that those ignorant ones little realized their weaknesses (please pardon if I am sounding atrociously judgemental)!
And then we started smiling, often breaking into illogical bouts of laughter. It was like overstating the obvious. And after a point it slowly started sinking into me that though we did not have anything to talk about, neither did we feel the need nor the obligation. It was not even remotely uncomfortable; it was like two souls we knew about their endangered existence as a species and inspite of that they kept wandering into nameless vistas. As time passed by we realized the meaninglessness that had created a halo around us. Gradually quite unaware of what it was we began to enjoy it.

Time passed by and in a café in Park Street we sat over almost three hours trying to unravel the meaninglessness which un-knowingly we both took a lot of solace in. When we try to argue (atleast I do) that communication is the best source to avoid confusion but often I was tongue tied because there was nothing more to communicate except for meaninglessness. In some form or the other at the highest level of frustration I often exclaim how meaningless life is! But as per all the maestros are concerned say from one Melville and Hawthorne, Nietzsche and Marx or very dear friend Kafka they all saw meaninglessness coming into their lives. The existence of this phenomenon has been described by many poets, writers, philosophers but largely there has been a morbid tone to it. It is said that meaninglessness creeps in when life is confronted with the ultimate question of about its importance, about its existence and pondering over the question leads to a no answer situation, or maybe it is very arbid to believe. Life at that point seems very pointless, cruel and a little mad! But what we do not consciously realize is the fact that it is this state of madness at different level of consciousness that inspires us to create.

While I was doing something as vague as a desk research on meaninglessness I discovered that most definitions would want to look at meaningless as lose of aim, or goals in life-over work, family, love, marriage or religion or maybe several other things.
The even more interesting part is to look at the philosophy of meaninglessness; and the way it is explained in several of the philosophical narratives; A sneak peek to the same follows –


Relative Meaninglessness

1. Disappointed expectations;failure to fulfill accepted criteria.
2. Discrepancy between established criteria and observable actualities;
based on intellectual information;existentially disclosed.
3. Temporary—lasts only until the discrepancy is corrected
4. Limited to a specific realm of meaning.
5. We know what to change to bring meaning.

Existential Meaninglessness

1. Frameworks of meaning collapse; lack of ultimate purpose in life.
2. Uncaused; discovered as a fundamental condition-of-being;
3. Permanent—no matter what we change, meaninglessness continues.
4. Pervades every dimension of life.
5. Nothing we can do will make life ultimately meaningful.

But to me the beauty of meaninglessness lies in the fact that it does not follow it a protocol, it does not have boundaries, or it has no restrictions. I therefore join the bandwagon of Satre and Camus who urge us to embrace our meaninglessness. They claim that life is better because it is meaningless and absurd. If there is no given purpose to which we must conform to gain meaning, then we can create our own meanings in the midst of meaninglessness. By rebelling against our Predicament, we create our own Authenticity.

So here I am, cheering away to the new discovery I made that meaninglessness is a very meaningful phenomenon and the fact that it challenges the logic of meanings and even probably illusions makes it another experience that has its sweet charm!
Till I walk the lanes of finding solace in meaninglessness of being occupied and enjoy such innovative evenings, Trublu, cheers once again.

31st August-11th Sept 2007