Sunday, August 27, 2006

Fading murmurs from the hole

Location: Promised land

Time: 2.00 a.m

Its not that I am not used to be awake this late. I have done that a lot many times. But rarely does it happen when I feel so freaking numb. At this hour I have nothing beautiful and wonderful in life, to share with anyone. In fact, just a few moments ago I was thinking how it would feel to be in a hole. By hole, I mean to say the hole they keep talking about in the prison jails, and showing in the Hollywood movies. Do we ever try to actually feel such things as been holed up in just a small dark room with no light, no music, no books, no talks, no chit-chat, no noise and most of all no space to even maneuver your legs? And to keep you alive in the misery and suffer, on the platter there’s some filthy food and stinking water to drink. What would you do in such conditions? Would you be rendered capable to think?. If yes, what would you think?. Would you think about your past, cherish the wonderful moments you lived and bring a smile to your filthy face or would you think of the terrible sins you have done, the pain you have caused to the innocent sentiments, horrible things you have said in anger, people you have cheated, games you have played. Or would you just lie down cursing everything, every moment and every one in this world and venting out your anguish banging the walls with feet, trying to spread out a little. Or would you lie cursing, persuading and then begging fait or destiny or whatever sh*t to intervene for a little time, a little space. How would it be when your closed from the outside world and physically stretched to your limits? When you shriek out loud but theres no one to hear the cry. Left to listen only your own murmurs.

You don’t have to go to the hole to experience the numbness. A little of that you can feel lying on the bed, when there is so much noise in your head. The body keeps twisting and curling as if the mind has run freaking amok, incapacitated to give any single freaking instruction to control the senses. Whatever comforts be around it just won’t shut the system down and let you relax in peace. There’s craving for an external stimuli to make you f**king move to something somewhere, someplace. The muscles in the legs feel so unbearably uncomfortable, with the cramps that develop out of no where. Eyes keep burning for lack of sleep. The brain says-fcuk sleep, but something inside just wouldn’t relent to the command. An overarching urgency to quench your thirst, a desperation to fill the void with something. Something you seek from some place but down under inside, you know there is nothing to be found. There is no ultimate truth to be found. There is not hidden treasure of knowledge. You’ve spend your whole life seeking the knowledge of truth and all you could discover is death as the only certain reality. Before even you could find your so called fcuking purpose in life, you forsee the end of it, the clear futility of everything. The emptiness engulfs your mind. That’s what they meant, when they told, every action of yours is such a sheer waste of your precious little time, meaningless. The dawn of that factual reality is what would throw’s you rushing to the bottom less pit of numbness. Numb, you find you are so so so very betrayed and fooled in the world. And guess what, sadly you are going to serve this irrational, stupid, crude world and play the game all along.

With this harsh cruel realization you just stand up rush out early in the morning, trying to run from yourself. Alone you take a walk in the boulevard, lined with maple trees and the yellow leaves spread ahead of you. The river smilingly rushes besides. The burning eyes soothed with the site of sparkling river. You hear crackling of dried leaves under your feet, as if the nature whispering to you-there’s much more to the web of life, the mystery you seek to solve is not life, but its something between you and me. The cool breeze cleanses every inch of choked lungs with life. Willowing winds come with a distant laughter echoing the voices which said, you wanted to plant your garden and decorate your soul. The wind combing your hairs with its softness, swirls around like your lover, caressing your back, kissing on your neck and whispers with its warm breath, your quest is not for knowledge but for beauty, my beauty!. With your hands dug in your pocket, you walk along with her- Smile and then you both roar with silly laughter. Just like the first time you looked into her glittering deep eyes and smiled for unknown reason. All along your craved to absorb all its beauty finally you loose yourself in it. That’s when the shrieking cry submits to the mighty silence. You find solace in your dark hole and force a whistle to a song.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

A day after I-day

Do you know how many years of independence have we celebrated yesterday?. I do not know. And as of now in the night I have not bothered to do the reverse calculation, mostly because I do not like the date and time calculations. I have never bothered much for both-date and time. And have regretted that badly. But habits don’t die easily.

But, how many of us have read the celebrated “Tryst with destiny”?. At the stroke of midnight on 15th August, 2006, I, for some reason feel elated to announce that I read it, then downloaded and listened to it. Having said that, I feel every one should go through it once. Even the very pessimistic and cynical will feel proud that at the stroke of midnight the nation had a leader with vision and motivation for a better world and could instill faith.

For some reason, I have always celebrated I-day. But its not that I have sporadic burst of patriotism on the very day, its just that I can really really feel the connotation of the word Independence and freedom chiming inside me. In my opinion, mostly everyone celebrates the idea that comes with freedom and liberty. As a free independent person, you get to do a lot of things you otherwise can’t ( and thats an awesome temptation). That’s the bottom line. And, I don’t think apart for the few remaining freedom fighters and veterans of the pre-independence era gathers the image of English leaving the country. That would be unrealistic. For me Independence day conjures of image of me standing alone at the peak of hill on a beach of white sand, a radiant sun shining over the blue sea, wind blowing through my hairs, engulfed in the vastness of the mystical horizon. Free from filthy world, politics, religion and boundaries. Mostly like the soul celebrating freedom from fear and doubt. Even if its for a day or a moment. On the side lines my opinion is that the most important independence is that from fear and doubt. If you have not better purpose in life, you can spend your life time struggling for the liberation of your soul.

Also, for some reason I do not know, but I-day has always been a more relaxed and joyous compared to any other celebration even my unfortunate birth day. Last year, the cute friend was not in town and my naughty self had a gala time. This year it has been with some difference. With certain promising signals which I perceive to a little extent are signs of better things to come. A friend against lot of odds, graduated, ready to take on an adventurous journey with eyes shining and my naughty self stands smiling and hopes she does well. We had these Brahma-kamals blooming at our house at the dawn of midnight. These are plants the flowers of which blossom at the midnight at brahm-muhurt and once in 6 years. A dawn complemented with flowers and fragrance. I stood silently for National Anthem in the theater prior to the movie KANK. Karan Johar has tried to deviate from the stereotype movies the production house is known for delivering. Though still with the characterstic colorful glamour. Whatever thats again a manifestation of changing times. And while I was driving down the long stretch of pot-holed road, I saw the MSRDC sign read “ Please bear with us for this monsoon”. It either sounds like a humble request and a quite sorry or it could be a blatant lie. But lets be optimistic. Atleast they are asking for a chance and every one deserves a second chance. After all this, there was hope and smiles and the realization of a wonderful holiday. And before the celebration has ended – Govinda Ala re...govinda ala. Its such a fun in being rawdy and naughty. A celebration of freedom.


Thursday, August 10, 2006

Hazy dreams

Laying on the silky bed
Head held in hands
Went back in the blissful cocoon
I, Sink into its softness
Wondering, how could time come soon?

The light pouring from pinholes
a screeching guitar in the sky
And, I had once thought
Of coming out like a butterfly.

A nursery prayer rhyme
Caught between a filthy world
And a beautiful life
In the roaring silence
That’s where thy place lies.

Trapped in the hollowed eyes
Still lays that beautiful child
Dreams of flight in dark clouds
Afloat on shimmering moon light