Saturday, April 30, 2011

The 'Great' Story

What do great people and great achievements forsake in their endeavor to become great and successful is of little concern to the kind of world which only showcases and highlights the jazz and the blitz, the pomp and show, the crazy and the funny. In the journey of achieving greatness, the definition of which remains subjective and at a lot of times, controversial, a lot of beings, human or not, rather humane or not leave behind a plethora of opportunities where they could have been even greater. Of course, this only by a certain perspective. They leave behind chances of making a difference to those lives which direly require a difference. They leave behind the chance of holding a child’s hand and helping him walk who only crawls today with his polio-hit limbs. They leave behind the chance of handing over a 10 rupee note to an old Baba who could have blessed them with immense holy wishes. They leave behind the chance to see the starry yet tear filled smile of a young girl who could have not died of thirst, only if they had bought her a bottle of water in that scorching Indian summer.

However, we must not digress. This is the story of the great. Not of greatness. This is the story of the mighty. And not the might. Moreover why only people? Talk of the cities. Cities which we call the grand Metros. The marketing people build strategies for these places. They are the talk and the preference of the elite. These are the places where international brands are launched and humungous malls are built. Each and every company has these places in their vision. These are great cities. Huge and populous. Rich and powerful. Concrete and blood. Concrete, of the ones who live in beautiful apartments. Blood, of those who dwell in slums and sleep on pavements.
Only last night while heading home after dinner. I ran into two kids of around 10 years each sitting on the pavement along one of the most happening roads of Mumbai, Bandra-Khar linking road. The expressions on their faces hit me with a pang of guilt and sorrow. I felt I was being led into depression with their depressed, remorseful and hopeless sight. They didn’t deserve the expression they had in their eyes at such a young age. They didn’t deserve to be homeless or be sitting on the pavement. They didn’t deserve to have such a childhood. I only look back and crib about the nothingness of my childhood. They unknowingly gave me all the reasons to be grateful about it now. Those kids, I don’t know have parents or not. Those kids, I don’t know have eaten or not. Those kids, I hope, are at least a pair. That’s my only consolation. They’re two. Thank God. And then there is God. We all have anyway left it upon him to take action.

What can we do? It’s not even the question. Do we even feel enough to try? The city as great as Mumabi can not treat its children in this manner. If it does, it is not great. If it tries, it might become great with the virtue of not filth and show but of true greatness which only lies in being human, which only persists if you follow your heart instincts, which only develops if you stop a moment, think and act.

The greatness lies in your account of not money or gold, but of how many smiles can you account for, how many blessings can you bank upon, how many wishes have come out only for you. Luck happens, not by luck, but these little deeds which make world of a difference in a lot of lives. Someone may just remember you forever for smiling at him or her when he needed a conforming smile. Someone may owe you his or her life for saving them with food or water when they were starving. Someone might be praying for your health and well being for anything nice that you might have done for them.

You might not remember you own little good deeds. But you’ll certainly never regret them. They might not do any good to you. But they will certainly not do any harm. They might not pen you down in history. But they will certainly not let you fade in someone’s memory.

This might matter to you. If it does, you’re already quite great. If it doesn’t, you can attempt greatness.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Catfight

At every step of my life, I've noticed competition and envy. Competition to get a husband, competition to please a husband, competition to have a child, competition that your child does well. If the life of an average Indian woman was at all defined, by one word, the word would be competition. Competition in different contexts and a range of them in the same context. Birth to education to beauty to career to wedding to children to houses to cars to diamonds to estates to world trips to social dinners to.. the list in in-exhaustive.
Imagine for once if we, women could do away with all this competition for one whole day, wouldn't that be something like going to a spa and getting all the toxins out of our system? How refreshing would that be? How loving? By God's grace, it would be like little drops of scented rain falling upon us...like not drops of rain..but as if peace had fission-ed into zillions of particles and is now being endowed upon us... like it was .. on the prophets..only for a day..! Just the thought of it makes my body chill...and makes my heart melt..... the beauty of it..the sanctity of it...the feel of being christened once again...as if it were the holy waters......! So much could getting wet in rain do to our minds..and our hearts...! Only if we were to imagine it the right way....percieve it in our context! Imagination is easy and free of cost but can entirely change one's perception and importance of things. Cheap thrills do have their stand in our lives!

Monday, February 15, 2010

Poetry: Tunnel - 27th January 2010

my burst of tears, my fit of rage..
i was hit in my gut..
i was hurt in my ribcage

if body could fume the pain
if words could tell
how mind felt
and how heart fell

in the long spiral darkness
in the empty hollow
with a speck of dust maybe
to light a path i shud follow

i kept asking myself n the air
was i so incorrect
so immoral...
that life should b so unfair..

received no reply...
no answers i deserved..
i knew i had done wrong..
my sanctity shud go unpreserved

while in my fall
my eyes came to a reflective close
as i turned myself alert..
as i gave me a reality dose

i heard some one say
while on the downfall
'love doesnt mean you be together'
'love doesnt mean u enter the marriage hall'

those words had magic
i realized much later
i reminded myself time n again...
belonging didnt really matter

love is to bear it all
all that keeps his smile alive..
love is stake it all...
all that keeps my spirit naive..

on these rules i laid the base
of the new life.. i had within the dark hole
demon's hole....
i reached the end..only to an illuminating soul

i caught his hand ...
he welcomed me with open arms
i told him the rules i had learnt
he just smiled n raised no alarms

those rules of love...
i believed gave me light...
those rules of love..
i m sure i cant fight....

if thee asks me to undo my belief...
i'd have to give away my life..
cuz i cant forego...
what ive learnt in life...

i try explaining but to no avail..
my attempts once again go all vain...
pls see the light i did...
see my tears as i walk the rain...

i plead.. i beg... i swear..
i dont wanna make u yearn
but iam an ordinary someone..
who has a lot yet to learn...

please do me ....dis favor...
as you hv always done to me...
please see the light i did..
please let the light be..

fate has its mystic ways
if we were to part...if we were to mate...
i believe life will decide...
if we should recreate

let it go.....please do...
see my rules.... as i do..
they are not meant to burn...
only left to make my life churn..

whatever i choose...
i have fallen the dark hole....
the empty spiral....
has left an infected mole..

i havent recovered...
when i will ..i hv no clue..
i beg to you to see the rule...
just as i do...

keep me alive..let my smile survive..
see the light ..with my eyes..
i am weak human...
i cant say perpetual byes..

please... please.. i beg...
dont make me feign
the happiness...
that i may never gain..

love is sacred
love is none love is all...
but ..
'love doesn't mean you be together'
'love doesn't mean u enter the marriage hall'

Saturday, March 28, 2009

I love you, stranger!

Being moody is probably one of the worst characteristics to have, especially if you are a woman. And even more when you think you are intelligible. So the pack of surprise arrives for one’s self and one’s confidants when you seek a company you denied earlier and ask for help from some 1 unexpected. But I know almost everybody would agree that what you can share with strangers at times, you cant with your intimate ones.

The reason I believe is that when u talk your heart out to a person who’s not so important in your life you don’t have much to lose. There is little chance of affecting that person and lastly his or her opinion wouldn’t matter much. But ironically, it’s when you start sharing your heart and feelings with a far off being, he or she comes closer and takes a piece of your cake like heart. And the space reduces for all its previous residents. Does it really? Can we weigh and estimate our heart like a storehouse with some thousand relationships and feelings thrown in? Or is it a virtual space that expands according to need and time? Why do we find solace talking to people who aren’t connected to us or are a part of our life? Have we been thick enough not to have made right decision about who to accept and who to reject? Or is it the natural phenomenon of not being able to appreciate what we have and what is near to us. Maybe it’s the mirage. Of the sun bathed sand gleaming like gold dust.

So perhaps the wisdom remains in waiting, watching, appreciating what we have, caring for who we have and loving everybody we can. This approach, however shouldn’t lead to complacence and ultimate self-satisfaction. To yearn for more, is human, but perhaps only in materialistic terms or certain achievements.

Yearning for more love often leads to disappointment and confusion. But if one is lovelorn despite being immensely loved by so many people, there certainly is a loose screw somewhere. Or the other plausible explanation is that the person loves to love and be loved. The meaning of this love is unknown but its existence is much felt.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

First Blog Composition - life at 20

The supposedly beautiful feeling of being 20 is not all that beautiful...Iam no more a child ..not even a teenager...recklessness is no more to be tolerated ...reponsibility is the name of the game..a 3rd yr engg student with final year approaching, life seems to now be posing its real face to me.....something that looks like the jaws of a man eater..more because I am quite apprehensive about my future and have firm insecurities about some of the very important things in my life going wrong. Apprehensive is a rather mild word...I am more like waiting for them, perenially hoping to escape them by means of prayer or pressure....one way or the other. These insecurities are such which can neither be mentioned nor explained as they seem baseless enough for common logic...but there are things and incidents much beyond logic.... these things are told to self by self...to me by me..to my head by my heart and gut. I remember as I recline in thought, how strong the urge to be 20 something was 8 years back when I was a mere 12 year old child. Life had seemed so unfair then. In simple terms, it was then growing up seemed to be a major craze but as over the years Ive matured and learnt... I believe , those were the most lovely days ...and I acknowledge that they will never come back. Maybe I sound like 80 at the moment and not 20.. but the truth is I am scared of facing the challenges life is to pose.. I wish I could delay my growing up by a few more years.. I wish my insitution was more school like..where one goes to another standard after the previous without worrying about the steering of the wheel of life. These are pretty useless thoughts as nothing of this is possible atleast in my lifetime. I dont care if it might be in future. I am mean in this case. It might matter to me, however if my future children were to be capped in such a situation. But that's too far away. What I am ever since I've been able to think and analyse confused about is what is the purpose of my life... to earn, marry, bear, bring and die? Or am I here for a general good ? Am I hear for a global or atleast some local humanitarian purpose? Or am I gonna be stuck in the rat race of earning money and acquiring means to satisfy lust. I am human.. I want the materialistic stuff too but at the same time I wish and I pray I dont lose my general focus and essence of being a human... in the sense of goodness ..in the sense of fulfilling and being forgiving. I dont consciously take care of it.. but by my being and my unconscious existence and energy..!

Poetry: Pink Lipstick

I put on a pink lipstick and curled my hair Wore my heels and slit in my skirt, without a care Chin up and chest out, I walked towa...