Am mad. Really mad.
I killed the me in me.
What's left is only a piece of something.
I killed the me in me.
What's left is only a piece of something.
Monday, 27 February 2017
Wednesday, 22 February 2017
148 - How are you?
A dear friend from the past wrote me a note few days ago. Maybe weeks? Maybe months? I lost count- and it's natural because I am living in a daze. An email asking me how I was doing and telling me how she remembers me.
What she wrote about me felt like another person. That person, that girl died. Long ago. Today I live a life of the dead. Full of illusions and disillusions. Oh yes- I eat. I breathe. I sleep. I function to complete an operational life.
But behind the facade lies the ugly truth. Ugly, dark truth of a broken face. Dead dreams. Hopelessness. Anger. Sadness.
All things negative that I abhored earlier in my life, when I was still living now reside in me. I loathe a universe that doesnt allow me the happiness I sometimes look towards.
Maybe too much to ask? Maybe it's idiocy to sit back and expect help. Maybe I was born to be a slave. A person who does look out for everyone else, a stupid person might I add. And yet, the very few times.... the very few times I did reach out- and it can be counted on my fingers, I ALWAYS saw a back.
Maybe it's my karma. The cycle.
And yes- I know some call it indignation. Well, it is what it is.
Sunday, 12 February 2017
147 - The moment(s) of melancholy
When you know something is wrong, you know that it is wrong.
You know it is wrong when it is not the same.
You know it is wrong when it is not happy.
You know it is wrong when your gut tells you it is wrong.
It is not the same. That moment when your heart breaks, physically your body seeks breath. The basic element of the life system. A gasping body never really gets it. That all it has to do is just breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. lowly and steadily till your body calms down.
You know nothing is worth anything when you fight a losing battle. Alone. And that word- that single word tells you a life story. All happy and sad endings and moments in life ironically are dealt only by ourselves.
My dad is a very wise man. He made sure that time and again I was reminded that all battles are fought alone. With strength and grace. And when it matters, he was absolutely right- nobody, nobody shall come and give a lending hand.
My dad is indeed a very wise man. Because he said- time and again and again. That nobody should be an emotional fool enough to think there will be a few more who shall join hands and fight. They wont.
My dad is a very very wise man. He said while you can help people, dont go out of your way to do it. If you do, there is a slight weight attached to it. It is called expectation. During the time of a need, the expectation pops out- like it or not. He said and says, I am not strong enough to sign up for selfless help.
He is right. My dad. He is correct.
You know it is wrong when it is not the same.
You know it is wrong when it is not happy.
You know it is wrong when your gut tells you it is wrong.
It is not the same. That moment when your heart breaks, physically your body seeks breath. The basic element of the life system. A gasping body never really gets it. That all it has to do is just breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. lowly and steadily till your body calms down.
You know nothing is worth anything when you fight a losing battle. Alone. And that word- that single word tells you a life story. All happy and sad endings and moments in life ironically are dealt only by ourselves.
My dad is a very wise man. He made sure that time and again I was reminded that all battles are fought alone. With strength and grace. And when it matters, he was absolutely right- nobody, nobody shall come and give a lending hand.
My dad is indeed a very wise man. Because he said- time and again and again. That nobody should be an emotional fool enough to think there will be a few more who shall join hands and fight. They wont.
My dad is a very very wise man. He said while you can help people, dont go out of your way to do it. If you do, there is a slight weight attached to it. It is called expectation. During the time of a need, the expectation pops out- like it or not. He said and says, I am not strong enough to sign up for selfless help.
He is right. My dad. He is correct.
Saturday, 11 February 2017
146 - Short lived
A life that fell short of everything all the time by just those few inches. You know? Like just that few inches, which always give you hope to claw back again. Just those last few inches to jump and overcome.
Again those inches unconquered and these losing battles, makes me wonder is hope really a true thing that exists in this universe? Or is it just a delirious tiredness?
Again those inches unconquered and these losing battles, makes me wonder is hope really a true thing that exists in this universe? Or is it just a delirious tiredness?
Thursday, 9 February 2017
145 - Where do we begin and where do I end?
Poornamada Poornamidam
Poornaat poornamudachyate
Poornasya Poornamaadaaya
Poornamevavasishyate
If my life can tell me my story of evolution in the last 15 years, all I have to do is patiently sit and write down the changes of my perception of the meaning of these lines over the years.
Today, I'd like to think I have understood this better than ever. Today I also think the upanishad which this sloka belongs to (I think Yajurveda) is eternal. And for the first time I also think that while vedas have been left to interpretation most of the times, I have a theory that it was written with an intention to guide so we can live a very evolved life. So maybe it is not meant for open interpretations? Maybe today I feel I got the meaning of this exactly like how the writer thought. How the universe thought.
You have an attachment to the entire universe and yet your journey is a very detached one. Like Krishna in Mahabharat... He belonged to the war field in Kurukshetra, and yet he was a detached man. Confusing??
Think hard. I think (maybe I know) that a being should be completely in sync with the world around. Have that special relationship with the universe. Help move people those inches. And in this context the whole universe and the beings in it will be the family. It doesnt need to begin and end in our houses. Or our intermediate/known family. BUT, the soul is a loner. Despite all the ties we have we have that one tie with ourselves- our soul that still needs nourishment. But, both these phases need not be complimentary. See how much I am struggling to write what I want to say?
The 4 lines above say this so much more beautifully than my amateurish philosophy.
While I am many miles away from a life like this I intend to pursue such a life- day after day.
Poornaat poornamudachyate
Poornasya Poornamaadaaya
Poornamevavasishyate
If my life can tell me my story of evolution in the last 15 years, all I have to do is patiently sit and write down the changes of my perception of the meaning of these lines over the years.
Today, I'd like to think I have understood this better than ever. Today I also think the upanishad which this sloka belongs to (I think Yajurveda) is eternal. And for the first time I also think that while vedas have been left to interpretation most of the times, I have a theory that it was written with an intention to guide so we can live a very evolved life. So maybe it is not meant for open interpretations? Maybe today I feel I got the meaning of this exactly like how the writer thought. How the universe thought.
You have an attachment to the entire universe and yet your journey is a very detached one. Like Krishna in Mahabharat... He belonged to the war field in Kurukshetra, and yet he was a detached man. Confusing??
Think hard. I think (maybe I know) that a being should be completely in sync with the world around. Have that special relationship with the universe. Help move people those inches. And in this context the whole universe and the beings in it will be the family. It doesnt need to begin and end in our houses. Or our intermediate/known family. BUT, the soul is a loner. Despite all the ties we have we have that one tie with ourselves- our soul that still needs nourishment. But, both these phases need not be complimentary. See how much I am struggling to write what I want to say?
The 4 lines above say this so much more beautifully than my amateurish philosophy.
While I am many miles away from a life like this I intend to pursue such a life- day after day.
144- Solitude of Alexander Selkirk
On a day like today, I cannot describe my state better than this poem. I wonder what Cowper was going through to write something as accurate as this. :-)
Take a bow my poet. You have so beautifully crossed the thread that explains the difference between solitude and loneliness.
Be as mesmerized as I am.
http://www.hermitary.com/literature/cowper.html
Take a bow my poet. You have so beautifully crossed the thread that explains the difference between solitude and loneliness.
Be as mesmerized as I am.
http://www.hermitary.com/literature/cowper.html
THE SOLITUDE OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK
I am monarch of all I survey;
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity's reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech;
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech;
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.
Society, Friendship, and Love
Divinely bestow'd upon man,
O, had I the wings of a dove
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth;
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.
Divinely bestow'd upon man,
O, had I the wings of a dove
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth;
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.
Ye winds that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore
Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more:
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.
Convey to this desolate shore
Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more:
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.
How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wingèd arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wingèd arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.
But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.
143- The power of No.
There are tonnes of books in the market that tells you and teaches you to say "no".
Again on a day like this, I realize while it is difficult for me too a lot of times to say "no", I do wonder what makes me say "yes".
I have a strong sense that the "no" most of the times can kill safety in the eco system- slowly and steadily. As I write this however, I am very conscious of my assumptions. I assumed that universe in general will not take advantage of the other person. And I also believe that all of us will/would need help in our life (time).
Everytime we say no, we add disappointment. We add fear of rejection. We add hesitation. We kill some comfort. We add layers.
And yes- that is the power of no in my book. A book that comes from a person who rarely asks for help. It kills me at times to realize that compassion is so far away in this world. How did we even think we are social beings? A chat with my 6 year old about the way she defined communities (parroted from the teacher I assume) reminded me that clusters of people live together to help each other improve the inches. And still today, here we are successfully limiting the other folks from reaching out by placing barriers, making ourselves as private as possible.
Who are we? And more often than not, do we realize why we are saying "no"? Is it just to prioritize and place our comfort levels over the other? (and contextually, this is still ok, but my point is do we realize to what are we saying no to?)...
PS- The post is not intended at all to stop saying "no" to something we are not comfortable doing in terms of our values. That's not the point. It is from the context of us being just a teeny bit lazy when we say no. I realize I do it a few times. And I realized I also bothered people I did so badly that they hesitate to reach out to me when they need help. I wont say sorry. :-) It wont suffice at all. I do feel responsible to death. And small as a person.
Again on a day like this, I realize while it is difficult for me too a lot of times to say "no", I do wonder what makes me say "yes".
I have a strong sense that the "no" most of the times can kill safety in the eco system- slowly and steadily. As I write this however, I am very conscious of my assumptions. I assumed that universe in general will not take advantage of the other person. And I also believe that all of us will/would need help in our life (time).
Everytime we say no, we add disappointment. We add fear of rejection. We add hesitation. We kill some comfort. We add layers.
And yes- that is the power of no in my book. A book that comes from a person who rarely asks for help. It kills me at times to realize that compassion is so far away in this world. How did we even think we are social beings? A chat with my 6 year old about the way she defined communities (parroted from the teacher I assume) reminded me that clusters of people live together to help each other improve the inches. And still today, here we are successfully limiting the other folks from reaching out by placing barriers, making ourselves as private as possible.
Who are we? And more often than not, do we realize why we are saying "no"? Is it just to prioritize and place our comfort levels over the other? (and contextually, this is still ok, but my point is do we realize to what are we saying no to?)...
PS- The post is not intended at all to stop saying "no" to something we are not comfortable doing in terms of our values. That's not the point. It is from the context of us being just a teeny bit lazy when we say no. I realize I do it a few times. And I realized I also bothered people I did so badly that they hesitate to reach out to me when they need help. I wont say sorry. :-) It wont suffice at all. I do feel responsible to death. And small as a person.
142 - Devdasi...
On a day like today, I ponder over the concept of devdasi. I read a lot about it in the recent past and I wondered what would drive human beings to do this. (not as a clan/caste, but in spirit- as in truly thinking you are born to serve god).
And realized that we all also are 'dasis' (servants) in some way or the other to some one or the other. And I write this not in sarcasm. I write this because I believe we are all slaves to a lot of things- materialistic and non-materialistic.
We are dasis to monies. People. Family members. And again on days like today, I wonder what do we expect in return? As in what is our motivation to do this? Is it just satisfaction? Or peer pressure? Acceptance? Self realization? Better choices? Good decisions? Emotional Dependence? Overcome weakness? Strengths? Superior advantage?
Are we just prone to being dasis? Like the DNA- does it make us depend on someone for faith? Or because we do want to genuinely give ourselves up for someone? Is this true? Does it exist?
And why is the universe so powerful suddenly that it sees the need to have dasis around? (read in a larger context. It includes all things like dependencies, addiction, slavery, servants- getting the broader philosophy?).
Just from the context of universe, think about this. There is a vast area of land desperately waiting for some water (read rains). The land is dry. It looks all wrong without a trace of water in it's life in a long long time. Ironically it has become a dasi to the nature trying to do everything to please the god of rain to show some return. Desperation. And the day it got tired of doing it's job, there is a sudden outburst of rain. And yes, the land collected all of the rain. As much as it gave. As much as it came. BUT, the timing was weird. Land needed some rest around the time. But the dasi that it was, it never really had choice to wait. It just had to soak up all the rain till it lasted.
Thing is the land never knew when the rain would show its' presence again. It's not like it rains every time the land dried up.
Wasnt the land a slave to the mother nature? Doesnt it feel like universe truly created classes?
So... do we accept this bitter truth? Or is my perspective all wrong? (I almost wish it were the latter).
And realized that we all also are 'dasis' (servants) in some way or the other to some one or the other. And I write this not in sarcasm. I write this because I believe we are all slaves to a lot of things- materialistic and non-materialistic.
We are dasis to monies. People. Family members. And again on days like today, I wonder what do we expect in return? As in what is our motivation to do this? Is it just satisfaction? Or peer pressure? Acceptance? Self realization? Better choices? Good decisions? Emotional Dependence? Overcome weakness? Strengths? Superior advantage?
Are we just prone to being dasis? Like the DNA- does it make us depend on someone for faith? Or because we do want to genuinely give ourselves up for someone? Is this true? Does it exist?
And why is the universe so powerful suddenly that it sees the need to have dasis around? (read in a larger context. It includes all things like dependencies, addiction, slavery, servants- getting the broader philosophy?).
Just from the context of universe, think about this. There is a vast area of land desperately waiting for some water (read rains). The land is dry. It looks all wrong without a trace of water in it's life in a long long time. Ironically it has become a dasi to the nature trying to do everything to please the god of rain to show some return. Desperation. And the day it got tired of doing it's job, there is a sudden outburst of rain. And yes, the land collected all of the rain. As much as it gave. As much as it came. BUT, the timing was weird. Land needed some rest around the time. But the dasi that it was, it never really had choice to wait. It just had to soak up all the rain till it lasted.
Thing is the land never knew when the rain would show its' presence again. It's not like it rains every time the land dried up.
Wasnt the land a slave to the mother nature? Doesnt it feel like universe truly created classes?
So... do we accept this bitter truth? Or is my perspective all wrong? (I almost wish it were the latter).
141 - Sorry. Truly sorry.
I am always so fascinated with this word. The power it carries is capable of healing a wound. Hurt- no matter what the depth of it is.
I also wonder if it is fair we have this word. It has become a convenient word in our vocabulary. Think. Count the number of times we use this word in our life- everyday. Day in and day out.
It is supposed to convey a very very expensive message all the time. A communication that means you genuinely regret what has happened. It also comes with a baggage associated with the circumstance. It weighs on your psyche that you have caused some/large amount of inconvenience. It will hold you back for that moment every time a similar circumstance pops up in your (our) life. Hold you back rightly to rap on your head that you need to take a step back.
And yet. Time is supposed to heal more than the apology. "Sorry" is just a word to close the conversation.
Think about this:
1. The doctor tried his best to save the child. And yet. "I am sorry". (ouch! gone. Over. Does sorry even register in your mind? It is so fking formal).
2. I shot the bullet. It hit the wrong target. "I am sorry". (Story over. Does this word even register anywhere?)
3. I was angry with the watchman of the society. I gave an earful assuming he fully deserves it for his carelessness. Both of us are sorry. He- for being careless and me for using expletives. (How was the value added in this fight/chat?)
Get the picture? Sorry. Sorry.
Sorry what? Sorry who? Sorry why? It doesnt matter.
We shall still fight. We shall still misbehave. We shall still beat and cuss. We will still not hold ourselves in check at the right time. We shall still not have compassion. We will still prioritize our difficulties over others. We will still think we have bigger problems and hence have more rights to use the word.
Sorry. How does it matter that the heart breaks? Sorry shall heal it all up. Stitch it up to 9's. Just doesnt save the one in time. Sorry. Yea, the heart did break.
Sorry. Yea- the hurt, it's gone. But the scars- they remain. Sorry.
I also wonder if it is fair we have this word. It has become a convenient word in our vocabulary. Think. Count the number of times we use this word in our life- everyday. Day in and day out.
It is supposed to convey a very very expensive message all the time. A communication that means you genuinely regret what has happened. It also comes with a baggage associated with the circumstance. It weighs on your psyche that you have caused some/large amount of inconvenience. It will hold you back for that moment every time a similar circumstance pops up in your (our) life. Hold you back rightly to rap on your head that you need to take a step back.
And yet. Time is supposed to heal more than the apology. "Sorry" is just a word to close the conversation.
Think about this:
1. The doctor tried his best to save the child. And yet. "I am sorry". (ouch! gone. Over. Does sorry even register in your mind? It is so fking formal).
2. I shot the bullet. It hit the wrong target. "I am sorry". (Story over. Does this word even register anywhere?)
3. I was angry with the watchman of the society. I gave an earful assuming he fully deserves it for his carelessness. Both of us are sorry. He- for being careless and me for using expletives. (How was the value added in this fight/chat?)
Get the picture? Sorry. Sorry.
Sorry what? Sorry who? Sorry why? It doesnt matter.
We shall still fight. We shall still misbehave. We shall still beat and cuss. We will still not hold ourselves in check at the right time. We shall still not have compassion. We will still prioritize our difficulties over others. We will still think we have bigger problems and hence have more rights to use the word.
Sorry. How does it matter that the heart breaks? Sorry shall heal it all up. Stitch it up to 9's. Just doesnt save the one in time. Sorry. Yea, the heart did break.
Sorry. Yea- the hurt, it's gone. But the scars- they remain. Sorry.
Wednesday, 8 February 2017
140: You said it...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KdBiT6Fxw8
I couldnt have said this better than Trivikram Srinivas about the Telugu poet Sirivennela Sita Rama Sastry. I really really couldnt have said it better.
Take a bow- both of you geniuses...
I couldnt have said this better than Trivikram Srinivas about the Telugu poet Sirivennela Sita Rama Sastry. I really really couldnt have said it better.
Take a bow- both of you geniuses...
139: War or Verses?
Who said wars were powerful because they have the power to kill people??
Really..
Think about this.
I say, that poetry will give life to people. If only people paused. Paused every time they wanted to fight. And pause every time they feel indignant. And pause. Pause so you want to be more sensitive. Pause so we want to be more aware. Pause because there is beauty in this universe. Pause because there is a tool that we need to practice to make ourselves all of this. Pause because we need to pause. The key is the beauty of words. Words spun together to make poetry and literature.
Today. I feel small but lucky. Small because today, I feel challenged that I dont understand everything already written in this world- all languages included. I just wish today genuinely that I learnt so many more languages that I understood so much more. That I felt more beauty in this world.
And yet, I feel lucky today because I am trying to learn to pause. To pause so I can appreciate the beauty of the words. In the languages I know. Limited. But still makes me excited enough. Limited. but still makes me sleep with a lot of thoughts.
That's the beauty of languages my friend.
I feel greedy. I feel so freaking greedy today to just soak up everything available in the form of beauty. On paper. From some beautiful minds.
Thursday, 2 February 2017
138: The car... it is now parked in the shed
Dead body.
He was stabbed to death.
Once. In the stomach.
The knife still rested inside the folds of the soft flesh.
Blood splattered all over.
A set of feet stumbled upon the dead body.
The feet belonged to a powerful person.
The gleaming knife and the lifelessness caught her attention.
A devilish smile appeared on her face.
She pulled the knife out. Almost to give some life to the dead. Maybe some dignity.
After a pause, she stabbed the knife yet again. As if to reiterate death. To reiterate to herself that the person was indeed dead.
She walked off. A few metres later, she came back.
Maybe in remorse? Maybe to finally grant some dignity to the lifeless (person)?
She looked through the gleaming knife yet again.
She pulled the knife out. Almost to give some life to the dead. Maybe some dignity.
After a pause, she stabbed the knife yet again. As if to reiterate the loss of dignity. To reiterate to herself that the person had indeed lost dignity.
She wanted to walk off. And yet found the beauty inside the dead still disturbing.
She stomped off the listless face with her foot. Ground the dead face with the heel.
Even mother earth could not take the impact. She swallowed the dead into her warm womb.
Away from the heels. Away from the feet. Away from the hands. Away from the knives. Away from human beings.
What did it matter? The hug was too late. A soul wept and cringed in shame. It was naked. And wondered. And then wandered in it's long and lonely journey. With a shamed history.
The car?? It was parked in the shed.
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