Holding The Pen

"Life is what happens to you when you are busy planning life." 

Read this some days back and it stayed with me. This is so true in nature, and more now than ever. Now, when the entire world has been confined to four walls and has been fed the thought that they are actually helping save the world that way. It is now that we all have time to go back to our years, to look deep into selves, to explore what lies buried in past or all that was left in the middle or incomplete by us at the pretext of time. Time is all we have now, more than ever. Hence, it is now that I too have come back to this dormant space which I never wanted to leave in the first place, which I wanted to make my life and move ahead with but then again, left it at the pretext of time. Time is what I did not have back then, or so I thought. 

This blog that I started 12 years back now serves as a journal and takes me back to all the thoughts I had and have evolved over time. How I find the last post (which was about 5 years back) pretty dark and negative now and acknowledge the fact that that year was the biggest trough I have seen in the three decades of my life. Time acts in strange ways to modify our feelings and evolve them into better or worse? We will see in another 12 years maybe? 

Now that we are looking into the eye of a possible apocalypse, it is easy to become philosophical and ponder over the so called positives and negatives. And hence, in this time of easy pondering I think about the seven virtues and sins that are so widely known. And one thing, that I have known for ever and hence only intensified with time is that the deadly sin I possess is of 'sloth'. I am a PROCRASTINATOR.  Full Stop. Now that the confession has been made, it was not much a confession at all considering the few of the fewest posts I have made over twelve years on this blog. But, and I like the sound of 'but' here, what makes it different is that with this confession I plan to go public and ensure that I fight hard against it. That the monster who has been feeding on me for years needs to go now,even though it feels like a pet dragon now. The comfort of its presence and the short term pleasures are easy giveaways but I pledge to fight it. And to add to this, I am fully aware how sluggish or pathetic this sounds, pledging and promising and to fight against self. All that makes me do is that I feel determined at this hour and wish to channelise it with the hope (and here I contradict my definition of hope that was mentioned in previous post) that this seed will bloom into something pleasant after a while. With a plethora of thoughts storming my head and with the historic time we all are into, I feel this blog finally is about to take its shape. 

Serenly Chaotic Musings - I

Just a thought ...

Hope. It's a dangerous thing.
It makes you live that moment. It makes you go that extra mile. It makes you breathe a little deeper. It all sounds good and positive. Right?
NOOOOO!
It settles so deep within you, without informing you that it attacks the very core of your existence.
It makes you live that moment and hence prevents you from looking at the future prospectives. It makes you go that extra mile but prevents you from looking sideways or exploring new avenues. It makes you breathe deeper which slowly turn heavier and hence stench of stagnation.
It prevents you from moving on.

It's a creepy thought but that is the creepy nature of hope. It's that eery light that shines in dark and attracts you towards itself only to enslave you. If not handled timely or tamed in the right manner, you'll either have to exorcise it out of you or it'll leave you there - down, lifeless - with no deep breathing, just mechanical survival.

Untitled

And I think my life is so messed up! I feel I have all the issues in life, I'm the one who is confused all the time and I'm the one who doesn't have answers to so many questions around and within.

She had been working at our place since I was in school, maybe 10 years or more. I remember she went to her village in Bengal once and came back after 1.5 years. She lost all the work here in that time and came to our place to ask if she can join back and my mum agreed immediately. Well, in that 1.5 years, we changed 2 or 3 maids and mum's frequency couldn't match with any one of them. Being a working lady, my mum is very precise about time and always wants things to be done properly otherwise she would do it herself. Yesterday also, mum scolded her for being late and careless in work. That is when she told her the reason for her disturbed state.

She had hardly seen four years of her life and the sparkle in her eyes always longed for more. She often came to our place with her grandma and my mum gave her chocolates. It was this daughter of her for whose marriage our maid had gone for a year and a half and now her daughter's daughter would come and play in water at our place. I don't know why they were here and why she wasn't with her husband. Maybe, my mum knows about it. She shared everything about her life with my mum, they chit chatted like old friends, many times disturbing my Sunday morning sleeps.  I don't know how mum understood what she spoke. I never managed to give her detergent in one go with her Hindi accent. Yesterday morning too, as I was rushing to office, all I could catch was 'All my four daughters are beautiful' and I guessed she's talking of her youngest girl who ran with a guy she loved.

A few days back, they had shifted to a new place and her granddaughter went to her 'bhaiyya' in the next house to watch TV. The little girl's mother was busy with her daily chores when she heard her cry. That is when she discovered that her sparkle had been raped by her 17 year old 'bhaiyya'.
This is what my mum told me after I came late from a tiring day at office, having forgotten about the morning incident. This is why the lady was saying that all my daughters are beautiful and so is my grand daughter. But what is her fault in this! What did she do to get this!

They searched the boy for two days and now he's behind bars and his family is requesting them to save his son. But our maid is firm that he should be punished and as I'm told her entire society is with her. It was also covered in yesterday's local media - a small column, easily ignored!

The little girl doesn't know what happened with her. Maybe 10 years from now, she won't even remember about it and maybe her family won't tell her about it. But I'm sure, somewhere down the line she can feel that something wrong had happened and it'll be with her for life - aware or unaware of the incident. No, she couldn't have 'provoked' the guy. No, she wasn't dressed provocatively. No, she didn't insult the guy to hurt his ego. Then why?
And dude, I understand you are exploring your youth and sexuality. I understand your hormones turn you on at odd times or maybe all the time. I cannot call you frustrated but yes you must be desperate to experiment. Hello! Why the kid! You've got your own fucking hands and the device to experiment with. Why exploit the kid or anyone for that matter! Get yourself wasted somewhere instead of wasting an innocent life!

I waited a day for my emotions to settle a bit before writing this post, hoping that I'd get a better insight into it, but they wouldn't. I don't know it's anger on being human or despair at the helplessness of society or mere unanswered questions that make me share this incident. Yes, my life is still messed up and I still feel I'm the most confused person on this planet and I still have questions. And this incident has intensified it all, just that it broadened the frame of reference from my self centered world.

Fallout

He could feel it precisely, on his skin, between his palm and his cheek. He had unconsciously rubbed his hand over his face, two hours in front of his desktop and he didn't realise. It wasn't the work load or difficulty of the task but was the trust of his boss.
He bent a little to the left to glance at the distant window, half covered with shades, the only source of natural light in that brightly lit room. He knew what was the sensation about. No, it wasn't the wet touch, of the order the window pane might be sensing. Neither did he feel dry and blunt like every other day. It was that moisture on his skin and he could feel it penetrating deeper.
How did it get in here? It was sealed, air conditioned at 20 degrees room or rather entire floor. It had rained heavily and he didn't know for how long. It left its marks everywhere outside but how did it get on his skin. He suddenly felt his pulse rate falling. It got in through some unknown little crevices and sat right on top of his skin. That wasn't just moisture, it was damp, it was stingy. It had crept all the way inside and overpowered everything. How??!!!
He had been caught off guard and he felt naked. Nothing was safe, he wasn't safe. His own might was confronting him now.

Rebirth

They say 'Time flies', but then 'they' are 'THEY'. I feel we give it wings to fly. And I definitely did as is prevalent from my last post here, more than 2 years back. Now, that I had the urge to come here, I felt a bit uneasy with the renovated streets. Seeing my place in the same old paint, I thought of renovating it as well first but gave up. Before painting the walls, I ought to bring it to life - removing the curtains, bringing in the lights.

Earlier I wrote here the poetic and chaotic thoughts that would crop up and the same would continue. I don't expect to get many readers or critics, it was and would now be more of a record of my mental being, the refining of thoughts and development of perspective. Now that I read my old posts here, some come to me as embarrassing while some amaze me at the maturity level. Hiding them under sheets and bringing up a new blog would have been a much safe option but then that would have meant a broken link. And a I prefer life analog way not digital.

I had been thinking of coming back here from past couple of weeks and it was destined to be today. A day that marks birthday of two persons who have influenced my thoughts and refined my writing to a great extent. I owe a lot to both of them in respective fields- my masters- though neither would acknowledge that and laugh it away with humbleness or pull my leg for this write up. I had not planned the rebirth of my blog to this day, it's a beautiful coincidence and the words are flowing so swiftly today- under their stars today... Am I...!!

The two people who won't like their name being mentioned are the most intellectual minds I've met in my ironically small life. What I conclude from the them is that the simple and clear your thoughts are, the deeper you can dive into them and the more you can build up on them. One of them has extremely influenced my musical taste,  I wouldn't be wrong if I say that I have borrowed his taste for music. Having least knowledge of music, everything with good lyrics is good music for me or all that is good for ears is good music for me. And that person has literally built my music taste while the other one has added more to it in a different genre. Both are AVID readers, amazing writers- poets, storytellers, orators and a lot more (writing after so many days limits my dictionary and I feel so sorry for myself). One writes in Hindi and the other is equally affluent in English. They are my standards in this genre that as a kid I thought to be my forte and now aim to reach their mark first.

One of them reintroduced me to writing when I had lost it in 'studies' by asking me to review the works. That is when I found myself again and now that the person maintains a regular blog and unfailingly asks me to review every post, I have been ignoring it over other things. Not that I don't care about the person or am too busy with life but I just didn't do that. The same way that I didn't venture here for two years. I feel bad and even feared losing the faith of that person but intellectual people are too humble and I have been lucky with that.

The other one has been a constant guide for the past three years, literally forcing me to come back here and do the things I love. Again, no reasons why I didn't. The person has not refined my perspective but has made me more acceptable to other perspectives- it says it all I guess.
I can go on and on about them but their intellectual influence prevents me from doing that.
Hope their stars and this day would drive me to keep this place alive.



P.S. : The writer believes in third person narrative and less of first person- not much of a narcissist- and would try to keep up to that from next post.

Forbidden Land

Long shadows walked the dungeons,

Shallow voices and the silence echo,

Familiar was the rotten smell,

Nothing daunted, the thorn was plucked.

The rupture flashed the purple blood,

A gentle touch, layers moved,

Scathed, the territory of the scavenger,

Nothing daunted, light flushed the forbidden land.

MUSIC- A Puzzle

Music, its life for many and soul for some. Some crave for it, some dwell in it. It acts as a refuge for many and a breather for some. One can judge a person on the choice of his music. They say “I choose my music depending upon my mood” but isn’t it the MUSIC that sets the mood. It has the power to change your ‘mood’, to twist a frown into a smile, to bring tears to dry eyes. It can force you to tap your feet in an office room and if not tuned to the correct frequency it can make a ballroom look dull than a conference hall. What is so enchanting about it? Is it the strum of the strings or the beat of the drums? Does the magic lie in the melody of the flute or are the keystrokes at synthesizer mesmerizing? How come a person unaware of the do-re-mi of the song connects to it instantly?

Music, the amalgamation of different notes, each note carrying a different emotion with it, solves all the problems-or so do people think. Is it because of its ability to relax our minds and soothe our heart or simply because it can make one numb! The questions lie unanswered and the code is deciphered by everyone in their own likeness. Yes, the code-the code of music. Music is like a big puzzle which has its pieces spread everywhere- around the universe, and in the universe that exists within us. Every time one finds a piece that fits the puzzle, he picks it up from the outer universe to place it into the inner one. And a few are capable of placing the piece that lies within into the outer universe for others to pick it up; this is what we call production of music. ‘Production’ one calls it but honest view says that it is a part of the puzzle that the person picked up from his inner universe and placed it into the outer universe. And as there is no end to this puzzle which spreads over universe(s), the longing has no end. The more one gets the more deep he falls into it.

The different pieces one chooses for inner universe to fit the puzzle of the music reflects the personality. In simple terms, a person with taste for ‘doom metal’ is viewed as a thinker and one with a dark tone while liking for ‘pop’ projects one as fun element. But then it is not limited only to the genres, it is a puzzle- not predictable, uncertain and possessing many variables. The variables of this puzzle are what we call as ‘mood’ which inclines one towards a particular piece (of the puzzle) for some time and then strangely reverses the inclination, developing distaste for it. This puzzle isn’t bound to singers or lyrics of a particular song; they are mere pieces of this puzzle. It is a puzzle not written anywhere and without any key, one learns and decrypts the codes as he moves into it and with it, sensing it, breathing with it and growing as it unfolds itself. It has no destination and one can take it wherever he moves but in the course and with its growth, it overtakes and guides us through the meadows. How? Puzzle it is…!!!