Tides

Tides, poems

Desert Dairies – part 1

The battered ball flew high above the parapet wall, making me glance at the infinite sky all along.  It was that time of the day when the dawn was giving way to dusk. I had a task to find the ball that was hit far away during the game of cricket. As I stepped out,  I witnessed the vast expanse of desert in sight. Though it didn’t resemble the ideal desert with sand dunes, what I  had in view was a barren piece of land that seemed to extend till eternity. The only thing to catch my eyes in this widespread loneliness were the red flares of one of the gas corporations nearby.

The green color of the ball is conspicuous by its presence in the light brown sand of the desert. But the mind had slipped into a mode of contemplation and the ball seemed to be lost forever. I had viewed the desert many times over the past few months but this time around, an unusual sense of calmness made me delve deeper into the landscape in view. The desert horizon is marked by a trait of mystical charm, an insignia of emptiness in all its glory.

The land that lay in front of me showed no signs of life. I wondered how it had been a thousand years back? Science tells us that all deserts today were once  dense forests thriving with life. Its startling to imagine a desert filled with life. But the faculties of the mind are good enough to bring anything to reality. I could slowly smell the air of the past clearly. I could see the flora and fauna stretched all over. I could hear the streams running along, the birds flying across but a quick chaff of dust shook me over. The haunting silence of the sands told me that the past had died to give way to a new reality. It seemed to suggest that worldly permanence only exist in the hearts of naive romantics.

And then I came across the little ball I was searching for. I slowly transcended from the world of contemplation to the one of reality. I picked up the ball and threw it  into my villa. I observed the ball as it sailed up and down its trajectory. The ball was reeling at great heights a few moments back but was now humbly rolling down the floor. A striking analogy hit the deck of my mind that instant. The desert that held me today was once a land teeming with life.

As I walked towards the gate of my home, a wave of thought splashed across my mind. Perhaps, the desert and the ball have the same story to say. What goes up, comes down…..

The mist of triviality

The shining stars adorned the night sky while the crescent moon cruised above . The sky hosted the show with élan, conveying a message of subtle superiority. A wandering kid on the ground below stood bewildered, watching this spectacle of nature in awe. It seemed a miracle to him, the diamond stars and the lovely moon, all floating in the sky and all unusually failing to fall.

A thought soon blossomed in his head

“How come stars don’t fall? And if they fall, wouldn’t they get lost in the streets or get stuck in our roof tops.
But how come they always stay afloat?”.

He then gazed at the lustrous moon and feared its fall. But he found that none gazed at the sky as he. None felt the fears that were haunting him. No one ever glanced at the majestic sky; they seemed to have forgotten it all. He then thought to himself
“No one gazes at the night sky. No one cares for the hanging stars and the moon which may come crashing down anytime”

Just then, his mother called for dinner and found him bathed in mud all over,

She cried

“Do you see what you have done to yourself ? You will be getting sick if you do that again. Now, go take a bath and have your dinner”

The kid asked

“Mother don’t you sense danger. Will we not die if the moon falls from the sky? How can everyone be free from this fear?”

The Mother brushed aside and said

“My dear there is no need to worry about their fall. They are held by the powerful reins of God and will never fall. When you get older, you will lose this fear too. You won’t find time to gaze at the stars and the moon every night. You will be so busy that you will not even think of them. So go get ready for dinner and be a good boy”

The kid got puzzled and thought

“How can anyone forget the majestic night sky? How can they miss the sparkling stars and the lovely moon? What can make them forget it all? What can keep them so busy?”

The splendor of the day and the grandeur of the night are miracles waiting to be admired. Beauty is everywhere, but the eyes of the beholder have been blindfolded with the mist of triviality. A triviality that makes the child in us disappear, a triviality that hides the beauty all around, a triviality we swear as necessity. It is fine to swim in the ocean of trivialities for a while, but highly unwise to stay there for life.

Home, sweet home

As I turned left, I strayed into the street I call home. It has seen me as a kid, an adolescent and recently a full grown adult. Chennai might be exceedingly hot this time around but the widespread flora of my beloved Gandhi nagar makes it feel like no other. It is an extremely beautiful place in this part of Chennai. But what makes it more endearing are the pleasant thoughts of nostalgia that greets me every time I step into it.

I was moving at a slow pace, gazing at all the buildings that had grown old with me over the years. I saw my old gym renovated with a new face of sophistication. The very sight of it made me feel the good old times I spent there. For three years of my college, it was almost a second home and exercising is still one of the very few activities that interest me.

As I neared my old home, I saw a couple of youngsters chatting and moving along the way. The camaraderie and joy of their age is reminiscent of the unending hours I spent here with some of my friends. It was heart warming to be precise, to go back into the scenic landscapes of memories and live them virtually.

I was now moving towards the end of the street, I lowered my speed and parked for a halt. I looked back into the long stretch of the road. I could see the happy kid in me stroll along, the irate cricket player arguing at foul play, a studious school boy waiting for his van and an oblivious college grad groping towards an unknown future.

I have often heard the phrase “Life is beautiful”. I had always despised it as an outcome of emotional excitement. But in these moments of nostalgia, life truly seems beautiful. As I motored my way out, I bid good bye to Gandhi nagar and promised to return another day.

The lost key

Doesn’t it sound incredible? A small thing made of steel with patterned ridges can bring a huge car to life. The car as such is a technological marvel. But if one looks at the key, it is nothing but a trivial human creation that doesn’t have too much technology behind its making. And yet without the key, the car is obsolete. The same applies to life. Simple acts can ignite events of enormous magnitude.
(sounds similar to The Butterfly effect, Chaos Theory and of course our ten headed Kamal Hassan..)

Tape rewind:
I still remember the last general elections held in India. There was a big hue and cry made about a new party started by a group of people from the IITs. It was a pleasant shock to all of us in Tamil Nadu, especially the youth. We were all excited and thought there might be a new beginning in Indian political history. No one expected them to win but many thought that this party would grow in strength and become a formidable force in the future. But soon after the elections, there was a fall out between the party founders and Lok Paritran split. Though the party lost the election, what disappointed everyone were the events that unfolded later. It was disheartening to see such a promising team of people lose their unity in such a short while.

Result:
The party soon vanished from the political scenario even before they arrived.

Back to the present:

Come April’09, the world’s largest democracy is all set to choose their next government. It’s a huge exercise- a nation of 1 billion, scattered across 28 states and 7 union territories, speaking two dozen languages and numerous other divisions gearing up to choose their government for the next five years (hopefully!). But the grandness of Indian elections cannot obliterate its flawed structure. This massive exercise always ends up giving undue candidates with undesired backgrounds the fate of deciding the course of the nation. It might sound a bit hackneyed, an oft-quoted rhetoric that seems to follow every now and then. But the emphasis cannot be ignored just because it has been quoted often. The fact of the matter is such repetitions have not succeeded in driving the message home.

The problem with India is its citizens. Citizens like me who don’t have faith in its governance. But people like me are not to be entirely blamed. There are valid reasons for our indifference to the nation. But deep within, every one expects things to change. I don’t think any Indian would like his country to be what it is today. Although they don’t play any part in reviving it, most of us would only desire for the betterment of the nation. But the problem is mere intentions can never bring about change. Intentions should transform into ideas and ideas must evolve into action and only such action can bring about change. All of us have intentions, but no one has the desire to proceed further for all of us suffer from a defeatist attitude that this nation can never change. Unfortunately, I come under the same roof too.

People in South India must be familiar with Sarath Babu. A BITS-IIM Alumni who began his life selling idlis in the Slums of Chennai. (He can truly be called a Slumdog Millionaire). His story is inspirational, and I recently heard that he is standing as an Independent Candidate in the South Chennai constituency. I was elated in the beginning but the thought of Lok Paritran immediately stuck my head. In fact, I had written a blog back in 2004, talking about our elections and Lok Paritran. Should I commit the same mistake again? I always felt that unnecessary excitement leads us nowhere. So I decided to verify what Sarath Babu actually intends to do if he is elected. After spending a few hours in his website, I honestly felt his little manifesto did not have any innovative policies to boast about and that it was very similar to the manifestoes of many other parties. But what stuck my heart was his press release.

In the last few lines of his press release, he requests his constituency voters to vote for the party or the candidate of their choice.
http://sarathbabu.co.in/in/sarath-babu-declares-his-candidacy-for-lobsabha-elections-2009-from-chennai-south/#more-27

It is truly a rarity in our regional politics that is characteristic of the frequent altercations between two parties, degrading their dignity and the nation’s stature in the process. The initiative of this young man is surely laudable. He may not win this time around, in fact he might prove to be a greater failure than Lok Paritran, but the contrary is possible too. And for those who desire change but don’t have the will to lead, it is a duty to support those who possess the courage to lead. Sarath Babu might well be a beginning to a new era in Indian politics. (Who thought that Barrack Obama will ever be the President of USA?) And the will and desire of every one of us matters to make this elusive beginning a reality. Remember it is only a trivial key that brings a car to life. This key may be lying anywhere. It may be you, me or any other person who desires to restore this country of its lost glory.

The Tune of Silence…

Imagine a silent evening when the mind is free and a sense of peace dwells within making us blissfully aware of everything happening around, and peacefully unaware of things that are yet to happen . Rare isn’t it? But if such rare occasions do arise, it would be interesting to know what one would prefer to do. In my case, I would sit back and watch Mani Ratnam’s Mouna Ragam, although I have seen it many times over.

When I googled Mouna Ragam, I found that the movie was released in 1986 which is supposedly the year I smelled the world’s aroma for the first time. Due to my poor memory, I don’t clearly remember the first time I saw the movie. It must have been some time during my second or third standard. But to say that I was in awe of the movie from the first time I saw it would be grossly untrue. What is true is that the movie stuck a chord with me in the beginning but as I gathered maturity with age, this trivial chord grew into a magnificent symphony.

Mouna Ragam is a movie that delves in subtlety. It deals with emotions in all its beauty and futility. Being a movie based on relationships, it sincerely observes the life of a newly married couple and their personal problems. The grey natures of the characters are portrayed with so much ease and frankness that within half an hour into the movie, one feels as if the story is happening next door. The slow pace of the movie gives us all the space to observe, analyse and absorb the feeling that emanates every moment. And above them all is the brilliant musical score by Ilayaraja and according to me, it is his best till date. (The song Mandram Vanda is beyond words)

I don’t see Mouna Ragam too often. I see it twice or thrice a year. I don’t want the beauty of the Silent Symphony to saturate itself but let its melody linger in my heart for a long time. In short, watching Mouna Ragam is like reading a piece of beautiful poetry and just like poetry, the movie never seems to lose charm at all.

The story of sonam kapoor, delhi 6 and despair

I wonder what more is left in life

My dreams shattered

burst like a bubble effervescing with hope….

And after all this I look at life and ask her…

Are you worth living?

—-written on the aftermath of a debacle called Delhi 6

P.S: Do watch the movie but abstain from it if u are infatuated by sonam kapoor in the promos.She hardly comes for 15 minutes in the movie (Damn! Rakeysh Mehra)

Schadenfreude and the naiveties of society.

Have you felt it? A deep wave of security that hits the shore of our hearts when we hear of some one’s misfortune. At the outset, I might sound blasphemous, even diabolical to some. But if there is anyone who denies this aspect of the human mind, he should either be enlightened or hypocritical and there is more probability of the latter being true .

During childhood, an Indian child hailing from a good family will be taught a lot of morals. It was an important aspect of life as morals decide your life. The most intense moral which everyone would come across is “the absence of jealousy”. The naive child in me took the ideal verbatim. But as years went by, the very family that taught me to be sans jealousy suggested the need for competition. I could never fully understand the real meaning of competition and the lack of a strong intellect at that stage made me take the societal do’s and dont’s far too seriously. After a few naive reflections, I ended up realizing the essence of competition and in some time, the so called competitive spirit took charge in me.

I was confused. In the quest for competition, I realised that I was increasingly becoming jealous. Friends, who hitherto had great appeal to me became envious objects of despise. It was a deep rooted conflict where I could neither follow my head nor follow my heart. I was standing amidst two social ethics that were contradicting each other.

Schadenfreude is defined as “delight in another person’s misfortune”. In reality, every person undergoes this feeling of satisfaction when he finds his peer living through a phase of bad luck. And when does that happen? It happens when a person is not secure enough to be satisfied with his position. So when he finds his peer insecure, he becomes secure in his peer’s insecurity. Confusing as it may sound, its quite obvious to some one who can think clearly.

Is it an unavoidable human tendency? I feel it is as long as one gets insecure, he is prone to be a victim of schadenfreude. But when an insecure person realises that his insecurity doesnt have a solution in the misfortunes of his next door neighbour, the effects of Schadenfreude would cease to exist.

Going back to my childhood, the naive child in me grew to understand the naiveties of society. On the one hand, the society asks me to be free from jealousy and on the other, it emphasises the need for the spirit of competition. This strange marriage of two contrarty natures give birth to people who extol the virtue of being generous but deep-within dwell on the negative thoughts of schadenfreude. They end up dead in a conflict of two contradictory emotions and tranform into a living dichotomy.

I never condemn thoughts of Schadenfreude. They help me reflect my immaturity immediately. Schadenfreude is a fleeting thought of security. It never lasts for a long time. That is because security and happiness are exclusive domains of personal authority. And when that truth dawns upon the self, everything falls in place eventually.

Soliloquy- the realm of family

It was my grandmother reacting to a dream; a dream wherein she confronts a thief at her village home. I have come to know that dreams offer a way to shed your deepest fears. But the cry carried on for too long and the peaceful observer in me lost patience.

 

“Paati, Paati” I gently tapped on her shoulder.

(Grandmas are affectionately called Paati in Tamil – “Paa” as in party and “ti” as in tea)).

 Her cries began to die down as she dropped down to reality.

 

Without disturbing her further, I murmured

“What’s the issue? What made you howl like that paati?”

 

“Hmm…a dream…thief in household…”

She replied and slipped off into a dreamless sleep.

My grandma was raised in a village where acts of thefts were more prevalent than in cities. But it has been a long time since she left her village and migrated. But her village memories still surface at times; this time in the form of a dreadful dream. I did not engage myself in any contemplation further and I gradually trespassed into the peaceful haven of sleep.

I woke up next morning without feeling rejuvenated. I had a highly disturbed sleep which is probably due to anxiety over my career, life and past in general. I soon headed towards the papers in the morning. Of late, my taste of news had degraded to Page 3 info and gossips. It seemed to be more interesting than world affairs. I was late that day. My grandpa and father had already reserved the two papers we receive everyday. Sometimes my Thata (grandpa) seemed to be more interested in life than me.

By the way, my younger brother was still asleep. The array of activities that kick start every morning will cause any one to wake up. But by some divine gift, my brother seemed to be living in a parallel world where people around him seemed to be eternally absent.

The aforementioned paragraphs were written three months ago, when I was trying to pen a blog after a very long time. But somehow the content did not satisfy me and I never posted the blog. As I went through this incomplete blog today, many pleasant memories crossed my mind.

  

I am living alone right now. I don’t have any company back in my apartment.

As my career opens up new horizons, I have to travel alone and in the process I realize how fortunate I have been till now. I think those days with my family will never return. Some say that life will be different once I marry but I am pretty sure that the experience I had during my childhood can never be recreated.

 

 All said and done, the role of a family is limited. I feel grateful for the experience I had with my family but one has to live alone to know himself truly.

As I have more time for myself these days, I discover aspects which hitherto remained untouched. I plan to write on every thought that crosses my mind in this period of intense yet beautiful solitude. This blog is one such thought that kept me occupied for a while but there are many engaging themes to follow…

 

The reflection continues…

Snore me to reality

A long eventful life might be elusive in reality but a long eventful sleep is not all that elusive. Occasionally, a sound sleep comes in as a welcome gift unanticipated. And it was one such occasion when I took refuge in the fortress of a sound sleep. But it wasn’t to be for long and all of a sudden, a raucous motor roared to life. The cacophony was so strong that it woke me up and the person who had snored me to reality was a dear friend sleeping beside me, and by the way we were sleeping on the same bed.

Before proceeding further, let me ask you a simple question.

What do you presume would be the tone of this blog?

If, by reading the first para you felt a tone of humour, then you must be quite innocent and ignorant in your perception. But if you felt things otherwise, then this blog is actually dedicated to some one like you. There is no element of humor in this article and I have no inhibitions to say that this blog  is about homosexuality. It is not a big hullabaloo anymore, but I do not intend to get into the inner nuances of it. I plan to reflect on what kind of confusion it amounts in a conservative Indian like me;.one who finds it difficult to restrain from exhibiting platonic acts of intimacy.

It was a Friday and like any other reluctant professional it was party time (No! I am not a conventional party animal. My parties are are not parites at all). There weren’t many options this time around. And all I could do was to have dinner with a friend of mine who fortunately stays in Singapore. We planned to retire after dinner but ultimately we knew that we would end up doing something that sustains both of us- no weird thoughts, we just love talking and that’s the activity I am referring to.

The long talk during dinner and after that reaffirmed Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. Within a few hours that seemed like seconds, we were sitting in my apartment, happy to know that we had two days to swim in the joyful pool of idleness. And just as we were about to sleep, my friend said

“I’ll sleep on the floor”

I felt a bit perplexed as my bed was large enough to accommodate two people.

“We can sleep in here. There is enough space for both of us….” My intensity narrowed as I realized the root of his apprehension.

By the way I am not some one with effeminate traits. Nor did my friend actually doubt me of being gay (I am making sure that my sexuality isn’t at stake). And to narrate further, I convinced him with a valid explanation to sleep on the same bed (Sounds odd isn’t it…hats off to 21^st century). But actually my persuasion proved unfortunate that night. He was snoring all along and made me lose my peace throughout. (He snored me to reality…)

And the moral of the story is pretty simple.It is actually quite discomforting to know that the urbane people of the developed world engender the most unnecessary of thoughts. They seem to forget that relationships transcend physicality and most of them perceive all relationships to have a physical angle. We seem to be thriving in a world of technological marvel (sounds banal but I had no choice) but in the process, tend to have forgotten some basic human fundamentals.

To put it bluntly, its time we realize that there is more to a relationship than plain sex.