Irony 2

Recently I received a phone call from a very poor person confirming that she got the job. I had helped her monetarily in giving a bribe for the same. I didn't know how to react.

Let me

Let me sit and talk to myself today,

about a hundred things unsaid,

buried deep in my heart, afraid to uncover.

Let me accept my mistakes,

and accept there will be more,

let me shout it loud for once, i am an ordinary mortal

Let me  accept my mediocrity,

and all my bourgeois ambitions,

let me throw off all the load that accompanies expectations

Let me for once be free, 

to do whatever i want,

and neither feel superior nor regret it at all

Let me clean out the need,

to be somebody else,

to be popular, to be vocal, to be winning always

and now let me do everything i can,

never measuring it up,

just do it because i want to.

Death

I have never felt so close to death as i did yesterday ... it almost felt as if it was just a matter of choice - no strings attached. For a moment I thought of how sad my family will be ... i could even imagine their faces and then it dawned on me ... i will never be around to see the pain ! I mean evrything will just stop .. I will never know what happens next ... nobody to tell the story ...  so simple really ! (Death looks beautiful in the movies .. when there is somebody to tell you what happens next) 

So why did i want to die .. welll cos i dont really like anything .... i mean i have no complaints, but i have no passion either. and having realised that u can never know the truth  its only a pain to go through the everyday ritual. 

But wait ... something stuck me  .. if nothing really matters i should be more free ... If i am free to make choices of death, am i not free to choose in life ? 

P.S - I am perfectly safe and watching Biwi No 1 .. please do not worry or speculate 

Where are the lines ?

After an endless wait for openspace harper collins to declare the results of the poetry competition, i give up, i am publishing this poem irrespective of their conditions. Yes i really expected it could get some prize ... may be just a consolation.

The theme for the contest is 'borders' - nevertheless, i wrote what i wanted to - :) .. its a long long poem.

Enchanting Lines

It was all a sheet of plain paper,

No joy, no pain or anger for that matter.

 Get up, eat, sleep, was the only way of living

Nobody really alive, they were all just ‘being’.

 Then came a Wiseman from place unknown,

 Said “It was time, the blandness be gone”.

 He drew a line, studying the paper for long,

One part of it was right, the other he said was wrong.

 “From now onwards, things wont be same again,

There will be happiness and sorrow and anger and pain”.

 “There will be hope and faith and emotions plentiful,

You will soon realise, life could be beautiful”.

 “Sometimes it would be pink and sometimes it could be blue,

Now starts the fun, the game is left to you”.

And then he was gone, never to be seen again,

People went back to their life, waiting for it to begin.

Oh yes ! It all changed, nothing was as it was,

The line was all important, there were rules and laws.

People now felt happy, when the line was honoured,

Anger towards the outlaws, the laws should not be tampered.

There was hope and faith and start of new religions,

Something to hold as ‘truth’, or just some sort of opposition.

But slowly people complained, the line was inflexible,

This is not how it should be, we should be considerable.

There started to be exceptions, initially unnoticeable,

But as they grew, their resistance no longer remained so subtle.

With every passing day, they pushed the line a little,

We were born free they said, so why create obstacle ?

Then one day it happened, the line was out of sight,

“Hurray we are free, things will now be bright”

They sang and danced and had a lot of fun,

Nothing to stop them from making it happen.

But soon they realised, they couldn’t even take a side,

‘Cos everything was acceptable, everything right.

They were of course free to go, as far as they would,

But how do they decide, how much they should ?

Confused with the freedom, they were confused with possibility,

But more than anything they were scared of the responsibility.

Responsibility to own up, the decisions that they make,

To face the results of a step, they were not so sure to take.

They searched and searched, but the line had long faded,

They slowly realised, a decision will have to be made.

Everybody then, their own line drew,

Being true to it, was the only way to live.

Different, equal, all the lines compelling,

Fine, illusive, simply enchanting.

 

But thats not the point of the post - in the sense that is precisely the point of the post, but the poem makes  a point in the hypothetical situation. Heres the practical problem -

I was talking to manan the other day, and he asked me why i say i wont have a kid. Simple i said, apart from the fact that there is absolutely no point getting one more human being in this mess, i have some basic problems - for eg how do i tell him whats right and whats wrong ? i cannot tell him not to smoke or not to drink or not to indulge in premarital sex. I dont believe in god - so i cant tell him about that. I cant even answer a simple question of why are u living. I cannot take a stand for somebody else -  So till he gets 18 and is on paper capable of thinking for himself - how do i protect him from not being the person i dont want to him to become ? Now i dont even know if it is right to 'want' him become a certain way ... after all he is a different human being.

My mother had such a conviction in classifying  good and  bad. Sometimes i envy her - for the conviction and the faith. I think this is one big problem facing this generation.

Fooling myself

I try to fool myself in countless number of ways - the latest being sketching. I am trying to convince myself that i have added another feather to the already (illusionarily) heavy cap  and that i am trying to be myself  .. whatever that means. 

Kamal ani Pani

Kamal panyat budat nahi … kiwwa pani tayla budwat nahi.
panyacha tyachawar khup prem aahe …. Ka panyacha nailaj aahe ?
ani nailaj nasta tar tyane budawla asta ?
kamalasathi kay changlay he kon tharawnar ? kamal ? pan tyane tar budun pahilach nahiye.
Kamal budat nahi hyat haar nakki kunachi aahe …. Panyachi ki Kamalachi … ?Kadachit 'haar' ha shabd chuktoy ... Premat haar nastech ... kiwwa nasawi .. mahit nahi
Panyane he sweekarawe ki kamal budnar nahi ... karan kahihi aso.
Mag kamalane kay karawe ? Tyacha pan panyawarti prem aahe na .... Tyala awadta ka panyala dukhawna ? .... Mag te ka Budat nahi ? Kamal budala tar te kamal rahil ? Nahi ...
Pan panyane tar kamalawar prem kelay .. kamal kamal rahilach nahi tar panyala te awdel ?
Mag panyala nakki kay haway ?
Me sangu ...
Dukkha :)
Karan Pani mhanala na te masochist aahe


Kyun Naye Naye se Dard ki Firaq mein talash mein udaas hain dil ..


PS : Khara sangaycha tar .. Panyala character chi garaj aahe .. Mhanje tyala kunalach budawta yenar nahi . kunala budwawa asa watnar pan nahi

PPS : Panyala character milala tar panyacha kamlawar prem rahil ka ?

Independence madhe detachment naste ka ?

Mag detach jhalyawar te prem kasa urel ?

PPPS : Mag prem mhanje faqt 'soy' aahe ka ?

I have been unfortunate to witness two deaths in last 4 days. -Both quiet similar to each other. First of a friend's father and the other of my real uncle.
My friend's father's case was an open and shut case of accident. Everybody knew he could die and it seems everybody was 'ready' for it. The only thing that went out of the usual course was that somebody had the heart to rob him off his money , mobile and gold when he lied there unconscious - fighting fo his life. Brilliant piece of humanity I must say.
My uncle's case on the other hand comes much more as a shock - probably because it happened at such a pace that it was difficult to sink it. He had been a jolly healthy man until a few days back - pretty much like a 20 something just graduating - thinking he has forever to make all the dreams come true. He had just had a nice chat with a few relatives that evening - probably he was even planning about what he will do in the coming months - "there are so many things to do - could somebody please stop the time !" Well - this time, time did stop - forever.
Though I have been staying in a hospital for all my life ( no i am not a mental patient - my parents are doctors), I must confess I had never been to an ICU, and though I have seen my parents waking up or returning at unearthly hours and worrying about the patients life like they were relatives, I had never given death a thought. So the hospital trip was as eyeopening to me as the dying man must have been to gautam buddha. I nearly missed a heart beat when I saw him in the ICU.
He had a brain haemorrhage. He was immediately admitted - rather admitted, operated, observed, medicated, operated again ... till they had exhausted it all - treatment , money and hope. In The initial days we thought he could get up any moment then. But moments turned to hours to days to a complete month. People had been so anxiously looking for a sign of recovery that they even reveried that they saw him blink. Alas ! So we had an unconscious man - who did not feel talk or underatand. All the ekta kapoor serials suddenly started seeming true when we came across the big word "coma" and we were typically left with a single answer for all the questions - 'we dont know' . Will he regain consciousness ? will he talk ? will he walk ? will he remember ? will he survive .... ? We dont know. We tried consoling each other by telling stories about how such pateints have miraculously survived - some after a year - 2 or even more. One of my relatives even went to the extent of telling a story of how a person who went into coma before independence woke up after independence. ... Thats all we could do after all.
Then one evening - his heart started having a problem. The BP droped, it was artificially kept up. He stopped breathing, was kept on a ventilator. His brain was dead. But now there was a bigger question to answer. How long should this go on .. just how long ... ?The minute the ventilator was taken out - the game would be over. I dont know if other people have a right to decide whether a person should die ... irrespective of however bad life it is. I feel extremely fortunate not be present there to decide - the life and death of a person - more so of a relative ... of some body very close to you ... to decide for a death which ends all the pain for that person - but with that, all the hope of seeing him alive. But somebody has to decide .. and so they did. The ventilator was sent to rest ... until next death.
At this moment however, i dont feel sorrow or loss - I cant help a sad smile - at the human beings .. the hollow hypocracy of human achievement and progress ... and their superlative insignificance in the grand scheme of things.

CONTRADICTION

"I just want you to be happy", i say
(and i want u to be happy with 'me', in my heart i pray)

"no expectations and no promises", i proudly claim
(oh please dont leave me !, my heart exclaim)

"I love u in the true sense, i want u to go places"
(of course i trust u love me ..... but then, ... why r u still in your senses ?)

Was love suppossed to be such a big contradiction?
i want u to be happy in ur own suffocation.

dont know what i actually doubt...
your love or my eligibility for the same ....

kavita

somebody made this poem on me ....



A confused girl with curly hair,
Thinks she's sure, but never quite there.


One day she stands up and says she's fine
And then starts cribbing the very next line
She feels she's complete all by herself,
Needs no soul to accompany or help
Then she picks her phone and calls a friend
Dare he be busy! she feels but pretends
'Its allright' she says...'nothin serious'
I dont need anyone....now isnt that obvious


But now its interesting....what does she do
Grows harder outside, inside she does moo
She knows she depends but that then offends
Which one of these are you?
She likes to believe she 'is' what she would like to 'be'
Alas! my friend....ideals are far away from thee.
Rather cry out loud on feeling sad
than arguing within that this is bad
Wouldn't it be better to just be yourself
Right and wrong and heaven and hell
Theories these are one never knows
what hurts more...a thorn or a rose?

I AND IDOL

According to me, idolizing somebody is perhaps the worst thing u could do to him.

So u are an ‘x’ person…. Confused, puzzled, impulsive and lost trying to find ur way out ….and ur idol, resolved, unshakable, principled, balance personified, … somebody who has answers to the critical “what is right and what is wrong”. It all starts with respect for him and then the respect grows by leaps and bounds .. till u become blind with the faith and completely surrender urself to him. This doesn’t sound selfish u will say … but wait … now starts the second act …. So now the other person is an integral part of u. and u make no qualms about accepting it .. on the other hand, u go on and tell this to the person. Make him realize what all u have been and are doin cos of him. Constantly keep on reminding him of the influence the person has on you. Intermittently talk of how you have been facing difficulties trying to act according to him and blow up emotional trumpets … something that’s called “senti maarna” in hinglish. (well, senti maarna sounds very cheap and though that’s none of ur intention, finally u end up doing just that)


Now, the idol himself gets overwhelmed by the respect you shower upon him. Being the good guy that he is, he is conscious of his influence on u and takes utmost care to be balanced in ur case. Now u get a little more selfish, and leave all ur philosophical and imaginary burdens on his shoulders. U are free to speak up ur mind whenever u want without giving it a shred of thought … ofcourse, cos u r supposed to be confused !!!!! and leave it to him to make sense out of it. U r free to behave the way u want .. bcos u r impulsive(didn’t I say that in the 4th line ?) and so u absolutely refuse to take up any responsibility whatsoever… right, cos u r lost. That’s what I call absolute freedom !!!!!!!!!!!!

And now ur idol, the great one, having been denied the freedom of making mistakes, struggles to make sense of whatever u do, taking care not to make mistakes, trying not to force up his views, trying to minimize the suffering u undergo cos of him and positively wanting to get u out of this. He thinks, ponders, introspects, fights with himself, curses…. pulls out his hair !!!!
But he manages it all for u … just that now he s a little confused and puzzled and sometimes… mind u just sometimes gets impulsive ….

CREATIVITY ?

I dunno why is it that u never get to experience something in its purest form. Why everything has to be tinged with a certain not so favourable occurance or emotion to make u realize the imperfection of the thing u felt so nice about. Creativity for example.
Creativity is somehow cursed with an undeniable tag of ego to it. Sometimes I wonder why creativity is not free flowing … selfless, constructive, free of the need of appreciation , of praise, of possessiveness, of control … why is it so impatient, intolerant, impulsive.
Why is it that an artist needs to ‘hear’ it that a certain piece of art is good …or let us look at it in the very root … why is there a need to show it to smbdy else in the first place? Why isn’t the artform enuf in itself to provide him with all the solace in this world? Howmuchever our civilized modesty fool us into believing in the opposite , the truth remains that there is an urgent need to putforth, to tell, to show and ‘MAKE SURE’ it is seen by people who can appreciate it and ‘IT COULD COME TO U’ (this is always the subconscious effort)
And unfortunately, it doesn’t stop at this … creativity is intolerant … it detests interference … until u r madly in - 1. love or 2.awe of the person interfering. It wants everything to be its own – very own …the more others contribute, the more the joy is diluted … and it is possessive as well …. Somehow somebody else touching ur piece of art always causes an impulse of pain.
Creativity is selfish … It wants to give, but always with a tag of ‘me’ in it … ‘I’ suggested /worked hard/implemented/made sure/designed this. … ‘I’ made it better than it was … maybe I make it sound worse than it is, but that’s because I am worse than the others J

Once hridaynath mangeshkar was complemented by sanjeev abhyankar .. (plz do not take this lack of prefix adjectives like pandit to be my arrogance … its just that I am completely unaware of their hierarchy) . The latter complementing the former that his music was divine … and the former replied , “I mite be a good artist, but definitely not divine … I wouldn’t be here singing in front of u in that case… I would have relinquished ths and retired to the Himalayas … its my NEED to sing in front of u … “

Sometimes I think may be ‘uthal panyala khalkhalat far’ fits here perfectly. I guess its some kind of an insecurity that u feel … ur doubts about ur own creativity that creates the need of external approval … of being constantly reminded/assured of being creative … perhaps if u r ‘absolutely’ creative … nw ppl can argue on this and to be honest I ‘absolutely’ clueless about ‘absolute creativity’ … but then may be if u r either gifted enuf to have it or lucky enuf to develop it … u could be all that … pure, selfless, free, unaffected , balanced … no longer being tied by somebody else …. Just unadulterated bliss ….

For beginners though, we could start with questions like, “why did I feel the need to publish this blog ?” :)

.... Helpless hypocracy

Prem mothe majhe tujhyahun,
Fusharki ne man sangta,
Karan tujhyatun mala kadhta hi
‘Tujha’ asa tuj pashi urta !

Pan kharach swarthy nahi re man
Nase rosh – tujhe majhya palikade hi astitwa
Matra matsar watto tyas,
Karte swatahchi pokalta aswastha …..