overwhelmed

Don't think I am not ambitious.  Heck, I compromise a lot of my personal life just for my ambitions. Don't think I am not an egotist either. I might not be a jerk, but sure I think about what I want over what others want.
Also, don't think I don't want to be the best at whatever I do.

But, sometimes god shows you a blissful piece of his/her creation, something so profoundly beautiful that I, with all my petty thoughts of self importance, happily submit myself to that sparkle of beauty. All I do is thank him/her for sharing that with me.

like today :)

Things that connect us

I was watching Rang De Basanti for I think the nth time. And I am usually told by my friends that I am little too emotional when it comes to things like these. Things like what? well, stuff regarding identity, a sense of belonging to some place. Some place you can call your own. Something beyond the regular jingoistic import of the word patriotism. I actually don't even relate to that word. But I do believe in that feeling of belonging to a place where you don't need to shout out your nationality to prove you belong. A place where you don't even need to show it in anyway. It's in the small little things of how you communicate with that sense of belonging.

A very small, quiet little incident happened once at India gate. I love that place. it makes me feel one with the place I belong to. A place where the sense of connect with the rest of us that it is surreal. Although I don't share this feeling with other folks that often for the risk of feeling outlandish and to simply avoid all the banter at feeling antiquated in the way I feel. To an extent that I don't even expect to find a hopeless case like mine.

But then this happened: At India gate, at the "Amar Jawan Jyoti" ( The forever lit fire honoring Indian soldiers) I noticed this random guy walk up. Quietly, he walked up to the enclosure of Amar jawan jyoti, and bent down in respect. Quietly, without making any scene about it, and then just walked away...

And for that little second I had a smile on my face. A very discernible feeling of connect with that guy who got lost amidst hundreds of other folks around India gate. And I went back home too. But with the feeling that I am not alone. That there is someone else hopelessly emotional about this as I am :)

Bansuri wala

Ek bansuri wala tha

Jo mere bachpan mein muhalle mein aata tha

Tarah tarah se tarashi hui baansuriyon ke tokri leke

Geet sunata hua gali-muhalle mein chalta jata tha

Baansuri bajani to humein aati nahin thi

Par khareedne ke liye jamghat zaroor lagate the 

Fir poore din muhalle mein daud daud ke besuri si dhune bajate the

Ki kabhi bansuri se sur us tarah niklenge, jis tarah is bansuri wale ke hothon se nikalte the

Paise chand hi kamata hoga wo

Aur chappalein bhi ghis chuki thi uski

Par apne bacchhon ko school bhej paane ki jeet par behad khushi dikhata  tha

Aur isi tarah aankhon mein ek ummed ki kiran and surili dhuno ke taane baane apni zindagi guzar dena chahta tha…

Kareeb bees saal hue use dekhe hue

Aur ab to muhalle mein koi baansuri nahin khareedta

Suna hai wo bansuri wala ab kisi thekedar ke liye dihadi pe kaam karta hai

Paise shayad utne hi milte honge use

Par ab meethi dhuno ke bajay chaaron taraf machinon ka teekha shor sunai padta hai

Rakhi

On this rakhi, for all the brothers who kept waiting for their rakhi, but it never came.


एक राखी ही तो थी
तो क्या हुआ जो नहीं भेजी इस बार
चंद धागे ही तो हैं
जो ज़रा सा ज़ोर लगाओगे तो वैसे भी टूट जायेंगे

एक राखी ही तो थी
इससे रिश्ते थोड़े ही बंधते हैं
गर प्यार होता भाई और बेहेन में तो राखी की क्या ज़रुरत पड़ती?
राखी और भाई बेहेन के रिश्ते में ये भी क्या कोई जोड़ हुआ?

अभी तो  तुम और मैं अपनी अपनी ज़िन्दगी में घुले हुए हैं
तो एक राखी की क्या बिसात की हमें परेशान करे
एक राखी की क्या मजाल की हमारी रोज़मर्रा की ज़िन्दगी में से कुछ मिनट खा जाये

वैसे भी साल में एक बार ही तो आती है
जो नहीं भेज पाये तो कुछ ख़ास फरक नहीं पड़ जायेगा
ये कोई बॉम्बे की लोकल थोड़े ही है की मिस कर दो तो ऑफिस में लेट पहुचने का डर लग जायेगा

एक राखी ही तो थी...

For other people kinda lost like me

Ok, maybe this thought doesn't deserve a post, (which includes wasting some storage space, some network traffic etc etc) or maybe it does. So I will err towards believing it does, at the risk of sounding pompous

So I realize that I do like writing. only that I think I should write when I have time to. It turns out, that is a fallacy in itself. I don't have time to even cook these days. Thanks to my new employer, my job keeps me busy beyond the 'normal' working hours. There are two things I realized.

1. There is nothing called 'normal' working hours at all!
   From people who struggle to make ends meet and in the process do a lot more than 9-5, to people who are super ambitious and spend a lot more time than 'required' at work, to people who are just bored out of their wits and keep working coz they have nothing else to do, to people whose jobs are so demanding that there is nothing else they could do... There is nothing called 'normal' working hours. So I need to make time for things I like doing from within the mess of a time warp that I am in. Coz if I don't, well, it's my loss. 
2. If I don't do the things I like, it wears on me.
   so be it writing, traveling to places or simply talking to people I love. I need to steal time to do it. steal from the worldly forces who are working overtime to not let me have these things.

Another thing I found about myself it' not as if I was doing things when I had the time. In my previous job (which seems like a different life all together now ) I did have a lot of time. But what did I accomplish out of work? not much (honesty is refreshingly refreshing :) )

I think I want to make most of my time when I seem to have very little of it :) makes me learn the value of time I guess :)

Hey Bharat this is India... your brother long lost in the Kumbh mela

If I were to ask you to name the best writers of the world across centuries, chances are that most of the writers you'd think up would be western writers. Let's do another exercise. Think of great painters of the world across centuries. Again, chances are that most painters you'd think of would be non Indian. Without getting into the detailed reasons about why that is so, I want to state that this blog is not about writers or painters. I used this exercise to merely state a point: That there is at least a small component of the way we perceive our own, 'local' artists. I use the word 'local' deliberately. The word, in Indian daily usage,  generally implies a lack of quality, sophistication and class.

The term is very popular in the middle class and the 'Ah - of course' westernized (anglicized and americanized) upper middle class and higher classes. In a nation where you aren't worthy of much respect if you don't know english (even though most Indian languages are equally nuanced and complex, if not more).

So why this rambling? because, in my opinion, this is reflective of a nation which is not comfortable in its own skin. And because of this, we are always in this frenzy to be what we are not, and what we even need not be. We anyhow don't need to turn into another America or as our older generation would say, another Britain. We just need to be a better us, on the basis of what we define as better.

When you'd see what I am saying, you'd start noticing that every middle class kid need not only learn guitar, or think it's cool to play rock music. You'd see that India, in it's 'local' self is so beautiful and full of excellence that you might not even need to go to New York Art and Design School to learn about art and design :) (although New York school of Art and Design is a great school). You'd see that India and Bharat have a lot to learn from each other and that each of them is a beautiful part of a much bigger and much more beautiful picture. You'd see that 'local' is not a bad word, and that if we embrace our local and global sides, something very distinctly modern-Indian would arise. Something which India would not need to pretend to like it. Something which would naturally be a blissful state for us.

A perfect embodiment of what I am saying is in this performance below. In this performance, I see Bharat meeting India. Its brother long lost in Kumbh mela.

शिथिलता

कहीं ज़िन्दगी के उतार चढाव में खो सा गया हूँ मैं
इस रौशन, जगमगाती , चकाचौंध कर देने वाली दोपहरी में सो सा गया हूँ मैं

अब पुराने ख्वाब दिखाई नहीं पड़ते हैं
और खून की गरमाई भी कम महसूस होती है
बेचैनी भी अब बस कभी कभी ही मिलती है की भूली हुई कगार पर
जीने के मकसद को ढूँढने के मकसद को कहीं डुबो सा गया हूँ मैं
कहीं ज़िन्दगी के उतार चढाव में खो सा गया हूँ मैं

सुबह उठने पर एह्सास होता है की अध्-सोयी आँखें तो कब की खुल चुकी हैं
और चेहरे पर रहने वाली रौनक तो कई साल पहले ही धुल चुकी है
अन्दर बैठे जिद्दी बालक को सुला चूका हूँ मैं
कहीं ज़िन्दगी के उतार चढाव में खो सा गया हूँ मैं