Maya

He howled and screamed. Beating his hands and legs wildly in the air, he strived to get out of the net he had gotten into. The more he fought, he thought, the more entangled he was getting. Emotions of anger, hope, peace, desparation, and happiness – all of them passed over him, at different times during his captivity. He also grew envious, when he saw millions of others around, moving about freely. With no constraints imposed. "Why? Why did it have to be me?", he thought of his bondage. And then, he saw her. "She must be painting something. Ah! A free soul it must be. What bliss!"

She was getting suffocated by now. The net was making her feel claustrophobic. She made rapid movements of her hand, trying to tear apart the net. Her violent movements gave an impression that she was painting on a canvas. The more she fought, she thought, the more entangled she was getting. Emotions of anger, hope, peace, desparation, and happiness – all of them passed over her, at different times during her captivity. She also grew envious, when she saw millions of others around, moving about freely. With no constraints imposed. "Why? Why did it have to be me?", she thought of her bondage. And then, she saw him. Looking at him waving his hands, and jumping around, she thought, "He must be dancing". "And that, must be a song on his lips", she mistook his screams. "Ah! A free soul it must be. What bliss!"
Each one thus continued his unabated struggle, for freedom from the net - all the while, not realizing even for once, that there was never any net.

"He's smart !" Really?

Had a delightful conversation with dasa today evening. Amongst other things, we finally hit upon the topic of how problematic it is, being "apparently intelligent". For the uninitiated, its a state where, you and people around, begin to believe that you are smart enough to do bigger things in life. The reality being, you are no better than the average person out there, doing average things. [A word of caution. This is not to be confused with "latent intelligence", where the underlying intelligence has only, not got a chance to express itself. Whereas here, is the assured case of its absence!]. So, what exactly is the problem? Derived from Hindu mythology, is a term called trishanku - generally used to signify things that do not belong to either end, of any given spectrum. The apparently intelligent are not dumb - as to not have any expectations, and hence be contented with whatever they do. Nor, are they stud enough to fulfill the expectations they develop due to their being apparently intelligent. Thus, resulting in constant conflict. And add to it remarks from people like - "Oh, you are so smart. Why are you still in this company?" or "Oh, why did you just stop at B.E. Why don't you study further?", resulting in total jai. Such, is our avasthe. So, the next time you meet someone who is apparently intelligent, show him/her some sympathy, ok ?

Liberation

The spirit is scorched by the sharp pangs of pain, to the point that it doesn't even hurt anymore.
Emotions refuse to flow any longer, and just dry up.
Devoid of love, the heart gets hardened.
Shattered dreams and hopes, and the eyes cease to nurture them any further.
All chains of every other dependency are severed.
The soul, then stands liberated.

Resurrection

Pushed into the dark alleys inhabited by the demons of self-pity, desperation, and their other ominous cousins, she manages to wade herself out. Somehow.
Until she is pushed again the next time, that is.

Probability

Even just by making an attempt, you dramatically increase your chances of succeeding at something - from 0% to 50%.

Probability, sometimes, can do a lot more to motivate you, than any self-help book could.

Rebirth

[An attempt at a short story. Which you see, eventually didn't turn out to be all that short ! Not even sure if its interesting enough to keep you on, till the end. Give it a try, nonetheless.]

"Raghav. Raaaaaaghav !", yelled his mother from the kitchen in the ground floor. In his room on the first floor, totally engrossed in giving the final touches to his latest painting, Raghav did not lend an ear. After a couple of failed attempts to gather any response from her son, Lalita limped into his room cursing her arthritis problem, which had affected her life very badly of late. As she entered his room, she saw on the canvas, an explosion of hues of different shades and intensities. She stood there for a couple of minutes trying to garner what her son had just created. Raghav, though, was oblivious of someone’s presence in the room and went about his task rather absent-minded. Having failed to fathom what the painting was all about, she asked him, "I have never been able to understand your paintings". At this moment, Raghav suddenly turned around, as if he was jolted from a deep sleep. Lalita continued, "Really, tell me what is it on your mind, that you paint these? What’s wrong with you? Will you tell me what’s that supposed to mean?".”That’s left to your imagination, maa", he replied callously, wiping his hands clean that were soaked with colors. "Ah! Abstract art, you say? An “intellectual painter”, are you?” the sarcasm was evident. “Now come down for lunch. And you better respond to me the next time onwards. I cannot keep climbing the stairs every single time, just to call you".

As Lalita was coming down, she saw Ram, her younger son climbing upstairs. Raghav, it seemed like, was staring into nothingness, as Ram entered his brother’s room. Ram turned around and glanced at the canvas. It was a painting of stark contrasts. On the left hand side of the canvas, he saw the face of a beautiful woman. She had expressive eyes, with long flowing hair. The background too had everything positive about it. A glowing sun, lots of colorful flowers, children playing around cheerfully. On the contrary, the right side of the canvas portrayed exactly the opposite. An old woman, who seemed like a nonagenarian, complemented the beautiful woman, completing her other half of the body. There were dark clouds all around. On one corner, a volcano was erupting, threatening to vaporize everything that came in its course. Ram just stood there, trying to decipher the painting. He went closer to Raghav, who still looked like he was not in this world. Ram put his arms around his brother’s shoulders. Neither said anything.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Raghav, along with his parents and brother, was having lunch at “Annapoorna”, a nearby restaurant that the family used to frequent. Mr.Shastri’s cell phone started buzzing midway through the lunch course, playing out the gayatri mantra as its ring tone. He looked rather concerned as he was speaking, and did so, mostly in monotones. "Yes. I will be there in 30 minutes". Everyone had stopped eating by now, and was a little anxious. "My colleague, Satyanarayana, who recently underwent angioplasty, expired an hour ago. I can no longer eat. Lalita, you go home along with Ram. Me and Raghav will proceed to the hospital", said a rather pale looking Mr.Shastri. They reached the hospital, believed to be one of the best for treating cardiac problems, in less than twenty minutes. The hospital authorities were packing the body to be handed over to the family of Satyanarayana. Raghav stood outside the ward, along with many other people who had gathered by now on hearing the news. Soon, Savitri, Satyanarayana’s wife came out of the ward, supported by her sons Mani and Subbu. She was inconsolable, as she headed towards the car. Raghav was watching all this, as a strange and uncomfortable feeling started to engulf him. Meanwhile, an ambulance was ready in the basement to take the body home. The body was completely wrapped in white, from head to toe. Raghav also lent a hand in shifting it into the ambulance. "Please be careful, not to hurt him" pleaded Mani, the elder son, as his father’s body was being put into the ambulance.

By the time Raghav and Mr.Shastri reached Satyanarayana’s home, the body was already placed in the hall, with Savitri sitting right next to it. "Why did you do this to me? Why have you deserted me like this?" sobbed, a totally drained Savitri, as those around her, tried to console her. Raghav stood in one corner of the hall witnessing all that was happening. The last time he had seen death was that of his paternal grandfather, more than sixteen years ago, when Raghav was all of eight. "Please light a lamp there, and keep it burning for the next ten days”, the priest who came in to do the rituals, was telling one of the relatives. Mani and Subbu now entered the hall after the customary ablutions. “Now repeat what I say, and please try to do so without crying”, the priest requested them. He recited a few Sanskrit shlokas that Mani and Subbu repeated. Subbu looked weaker of the two, as he could not hold back his tears every time he saw his father. Mani managed to put a brave face, but his voice trembled every time he spoke. Raghav now stood there with moist eyes and a lump in his throat. He saw the faces of all his loved ones, their bodies wrapped in a white cloth, lying there, lifeless. Mr.Shastri, Lalita, Ram, and then Raghav himself. The eternal truth of life, he felt, was death. Everything else pales in comparison. Nothing probably, is as permanent and as invincible. As Raghav was getting more and more poignant with his hallucinations, the priest completed all the rituals. The body was now to be taken to the Shantinagar crematorium for the cremation. Raghav saw someone whispering something into Mr.Shastri's ears. "Raghav, as per Hindu customs, a brahmin should not enter a crematorium while both of his parents are alive. So you take a rickshaw home, while I go along", spoke a visibly upset Mr.Shastri.

Raghav was no longer himself, after this incident. For the next few days, all his actions were only mechanical. He seemed lost somewhere. Death, they say, can bring about smasHaaNa vairagya- a temporary sense of worldly detachment, following the demise of a loved one. What Raghav was going through, though, was something deeper than that. His very core seemed to have transformed. All his insecurities, his fears, his pain, no longer seemed significant. He seemed to have transcended all these, and yearned for something more. Seemingly, the awareness had begun to set in.

It was a new moon night. Raghav was on his terrace, staring into the dark sky. A few clouds present, had even masked the sparse but twinkling stars, suggesting that the entire earth was wrapped within a huge black blanket. As he stood there watching, unknown to him, a sense of calm descended upon him, and his lips played host to an enigmatic smile - one, which probably even he couldn't understand. With his new found peace, he came down into his room. Clipped a spotless white canvas on to the board, and held the paint brush in his hand for one last time. He was just about to paint his final sketch.

It was half past seven in the morning. “Raaaaaaghav!” Lalita's voice disturbed the unusual silence in the house that day. There was no response, as was the routine these days. "Ram, just call that brother of yours, for breakfast". Ram, having just woken up and all groggy, entered Raghav's room. His brother was not to be seen. Ram looked around everywhere, from the terrace to the backyard. But saw no signs of Raghav. He came back to his brother's room, to check for one more time. What looked like a new painting, now caught his alert eye. He came closer to the canvas and started studying it. He could hear M.S Subbalakshmi’s rendition of the Vishnu sahasranamam start playing downstairs. After a few minutes, he spoke, "Ma, appa, can you please come here to Raghav's room?" Holding the day's newspaper in one hand and a cup of half finished filter-coffee in the other, Mr.Shastri came in, slowly followed by his wife. Both stared at the canvas for sometime, and as was the case with them always, were unable to understand what was painted there. "What's this Ram? Where is Raghav?" Lalita, with a hint of nervousness in her voice, broke the extended silence in the room. Ram handed over a piece of paper he had found clipped to the canvas, to Mr.Shastri. "Why don't you answer me?" Lalita was demanding Ram. "Dear Ma, Appa and Ram", it was Mr.Shastri's voice now, as he began reading from the piece of paper. "I have a confession to make. I've never led the life you have wanted me to. I've never been the ambitious kind, the one to go after success. I've always felt I probably never belonged to this place, to this world. I was not meant to lead a "normal" life. "Normal" as in, getting a decent job, getting married, having kids and you know, so on. At the same time, all these years, I didn't know what it was meant to be, either. For all I knew, there was a sense of hollowness within me that refused to get filled with anything I tried. It was a vortex that was sucking me into its abysmal depths. But now, I think I know what it is all about. I've realized that, this sense of void I possess is because I know very little about myself. I've been a stranger to myself all along. I've even tried to let go of these feelings and behave normal, many a time. But isn't, the very idea of letting go of a thing, also holding on to something? After much deliberation, I've decided to go on a journey of self-discovery. Don’t get me wrong. I seek no god, nor nirvana. To me, these are only terms that have no universal meaning; expressions, which each one must define for oneself. And, I choose not to define them. For presently, my ignorance is about something far more pertinent and important – my own self. And so, I am on a quest to understand it better; without any prejudice, any bias". shantakaram bhujaga shayanam padmanabham suresham, vishwadharam gagana sadrusham megha varnam shubangam... the CD player could be heard rendering now. "For this, I seek solitude. I don't know where I am off to, and for how long. I know I've failed in my duties as a son and a brother, and apologize for the same. Ram, please take care of appa and ma. Ironically, it was the death of Mr.Satyanarayana that brought about these changes in me. It was a death, which gave me a new life, a new purpose. It paved ways for me to look at life, in manners that I had never done before. In essence, it was my rebirth. With sincere apologies...” The letter, at the end, bore Raghav's trademark signature, which he also used to sign off his paintings.

Mr.Shastri finished the reading, with his hands trembling. More so, it seemed like it was his heart that was trembling. He stood motionless, unable to hold those tiny droplets of water that managed to trickle down his cheeks. Lalita wore a stunned expression on her face. Ram looked like he had resigned to the fact. As though, he saw all of this coming, in Raghav's earlier paintings. The three of them, then looked towards the canvas again. Suddenly, all of it made sense - the silhouette of a man ascending a funeral pyre at one end, and an infant crawling out of it, at the other.

Pot Pourri

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"ಎಳ್ಳು ಬೀರಿದರೆ ಕೆಳಕ್ಕೆ ಬೀಳದ ಗುಂಪಿನ ಮಧ್ಯೆ..." - [In the context of describing a large gathering of people]
- For more of such imaginatively crafted lines.
- For the sheer audacity of the ideas expressed (especially, considering the time at which they were conceived).
- For the brilliant characterization.
- For the amazing clarity in portraying praneshacharya's confusion.

I would say, go read this book [I suggest though, read only the original in kannada].

************************************************************************************
I've probably discovered for myself, an alter ego. I with my kannada vocabulary, for my life, could have never written the previous poem !
And now, the guy simply goes missing...

************************************************************************************

Music, to me, all these years, has only been about the tune. I've never really cared about the lyrics part of it. As long as it had a decent enough tune, it has managed to come into my good books. But of late, for whatever reasons, I am concentrating on the words. Learning to focus, to get - lost, where ever they take me.

I am no devdas, but simply loved these two lines, from the song in New York :)

"तूने जो ना कहा, वो मैं सुन्ता रहा,
खामखाँ , बेवज़ह., ख्वाब बुन्ता रहा !"

Wow!!!

ಚಂಚಲತೆ

ಅರಿವಾಯಿತು ಈ ಸತ್ಯ ನನಗಂದು,
ಅದೆಷ್ಟು ಚಂಚಲವು ಮನಸ್ಸೆಂದು.
ಸೆಳೆಯಿತು ಈ ಕ್ಷಣ, ಆ ಮಾಯಾ ಜಿಂಕೆಯ ಆಕರ್ಷಣ,
ಕಂಡು ಮರಣವ ಒಂದು, ತುಡಿಯಿತು ಮನವು ಮರು ಕ್ಷಣ.

ಕಿರು ಹೆಜ್ಜೆಗಳ ಹಾಕುತ್ತಾ, ಸಾಗಿ ಬಂದೆ ಬಾಳ ಪಥದಿ,
ದಾಟುತ್ತಾ, ನೂರೆಂಟು ಕವಲುದಾರಿಗಳ - ಪ್ರತಿ ಹಂತದಿ.
"ಈ ದಾರಿಯೊ, ಆ ದಾರಿಯೊ", ದುಗುಡ, ಸಂಶಯ ಸದಾ,
ಕಳೆದು ನಿಂತ ಮಾರ್ಗವೇ ಉತ್ತಮ, ಎಂಬ ಮನಸ್ಸಿನ ವಿವಾದ.

ಬಲಿಯಾಗದೆ ಭಾವೋದ್ರೇಕದ ಬಿರುಗಾಳಿಗೆ, ಕಾಪಾಡಿಕೊ ನೀನು ನಿನ್ನ,
"ಎಚ್ಚತ್ತು!", ಓ ಮೂಢ ಮನಸ್ಸೆ, ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ಧೃಡವಾಗಿ ಬೇರೂರುವ ಮುನ್ನ.
"ಕತ್ತಲು, ಕತ್ತಲು", ಏತಕೀ ಆರ್ತನಾದ ?
ಅಗೋ ಕಂಡಿತು ಬೆಳಕು - ನಿನ್ನ, ಪರಮಾತ್ಮನ ಸಂವಾದ.

ಅರಿವಾಯಿತು ಈ ಸತ್ಯ ನನಗಂದು,
ಅದೆಷ್ಟು ಚಂಚಲವು ಮನಸ್ಸೆಂದು.
ಆಗಬಾರದೇಕೆ, ಈ ಬದುಕಿನ ಗುರಿ - ಆ ಮನಸ್ಥಿರತೆ ?
ತಿಳಿಗೊಂಡ ಚಂಚಲತೆ, ಅಹುದು - ಅದೆ ಜೀವನದ ಸಾರ್ಥಕತೆ !

[My first attempt at kannada poetry. And, I realized how difficult it is. Please, to pardon any grammatical/'spelling' mistakes :).]

I... I See

I1 - "Question1 - ...".

Sc - "Hmm... Answer1 - ...".

I1 - "Well, I would say that was a "canned" response. I wanted you to think out of the box".

I2 (Turning towards I1) - "Oh, I guess you mean, think out the "can" ? Hehehe..."

Sc - Staring and gazing around, with a blank expression.

[I1 - Interviewer1, I2 - Interviewer2, Sc - Student candidate]

This, is humor at one of India's (actually the world's) premier research institutes.
And, I thank this person for sharing the same !

[p.s : This post is also a tribute to the brilliant faculty and students there, and to the spirit of the institute itself]

Deja Vu

Life, at times, can seem like a treadmill.
No matter how fast you run, you also know for sure, that you are not getting anywhere actually !

What else ?

When you can no longer feel their pain.
When you cease to share their joys, and have none of your own.
When you are no longer a part of their lives.
When you have lost all your rights on them.
When "us", is all about "me".

What else is all this, but death ?
Death is not just a physical phenomenon. Its an idea. A behavior. A thought too. Yes, death is not just physical...

Epiphany

I better discover that thing which keeps my soul truly at peace. Something, that gives me a sense of purpose. Soon.
Else, there is the grave danger, that I might disintegrate. Very rapidly.

I continue to wait for the epiphany.

Those days...

... When there was no fear, or pain of losing your loved ones.

... When there was neither the past, nor the future. But only the present.

... When "success" mattered very little.

... When you met your friends daily, and didn't have to wait till both of you were "free".

... When you got a summer vacation of at least two months in an year.

... When "games", meant, you played things like cricket and carom. And not, "office politics".

... When all you thought was, about nothing.

... When you argued with your teacher for that one mark, that would get you in the top three. And not with your boss, for that extra increment.

... When you fought with your friend, insisting that you were not "run-out", and that he was only cheating.

... When you didn't need a blog to vent out your frustrations, because you didn't have any.

... When you had no notion of a "self-image", and everything under the sun was possible.

... When you never got nostalgic about "those days", that no longer were.

Was it the innocence, or the ignorance then, I fail to make out. But truly, those were the best days of my life...

A Vision !

Today as I was traveling back home in the bus, I was in one of those half-asleep states. I then "saw" a monk. He was in ocher robes and had a tonsured head. And guess what ? He had exactly my face !!! (Minus the glasses though. I wonder why :) ? ). This probably lasted for only about two seconds, when I suddenly "woke" up. All I managed to do then was, look outside, and steal myself a sheepish smile. Oh, nothing to worry, I am not out to renounce the world ! Am so badly entangled in the worldly web, even to do that. Moreover, whatever limited "spirituality" that I am aware of, I know only at a theoretical level. None of which, I've been capable enough to apply in real life.Yet. I know I was hallucinating. Nonetheless, just like this new vodafone ad, thought it was an experience, interesting enough, to "tell the whole world" !

Grass

Holding the earth in its place !

Grass's is the forgiveness of nature.
Her constant benediction.
Trees may be fell and flowers plucked.
But it is through these strands, that she speaks to us !!!
- On a signboard in a park, as seen by a friend.

[Photo caption idea - G, a colleague]

A disturbing trend

Every time, a friend climbs one more step on the ladder of "success", I feel I am drawn ten steps away from him/her. No no, it has got nothing to do with his behavioral changes. Rather, its more due to my reaction towards that success. I am not even sure if its my own insecurities manifesting themselves as jealousy. But I am scared that, most of the times, that is verily the case. And the people I am taking about here, are those, whom I consider to be an "extension" of my own self. Those, to whom, I feel "connected" at a finer level. Which, makes it all the more disturbing. This trend, I know, is so very wrong.

And why am I being so candid about it, here ? That's because I want them to know. I want them to know of my true feelings. Though it does little good in totally eliminating, it does help to some extent, in alleviating the guilt factor. And to add to the hopelessness, I am not even sure on how to reverse this disturbing trend. All I can say as of now, is that I am truly sorry.

To end the post on a slightly better note, I've been listening to this song by Pandit [Rajan and Sajan Mishra], the whole of today. And it is undoubtedly, one of the beautiful, beautiful, prayer compositions I've ever heard. So much, that I went to a durga temple after office :).
(Select "Raaga Durga" among the list of songs).

An advice...

Your unprecedented silence could become your biggest weapon.
At the same time, it could also turn out to be the biggest cause of your destruction.

[ update: This post was not my contribution. The originator is unaware of this blog, and I conveniently "forgot" to credit him for the same, at the time of posting this :) ]

Do you know ?

Every decision that you make in life, every step that you take, do you know for sure, whether you are moving forward or going backward ?
How did you decide your reference ?
And then again, wasn't that reference biased by any another reference ?

Or even worse, do all those decisions and choices, ultimately end up only as, being a part of a strange loop ?
I do not know.

Then, why ask these questions in the first place ?
I do not know that, as well.

Revelation

Last week, saw the revival of my affinity towards Hindustani music. For reasons unknown, the interest in the same had gradually waned, after college. But then, S, a new found friend at office, showed keen interest in it and so, I got a few songs from her collection. From then on, I've been listening to some real gems, and was only cursing myself for having neglected this form of music totally. And now, I just don't enjoy the conventional "popular" songs anymore. They all seem so hollow in comparison to the divine abstraction that Hindustani offers. It has elevated me as a music listener, to another level by itself.

Sample some of these melodies that I've been captivated with, for the last few days.

1. Hariprasad Chaurasia -Raag Hansdhwani : A beautiful rendition of vatapi.. followed by an awesome jugalbandi between tabla and flute towards the end.
2. Naarayani-Jasraj
3. Malhaar-Jasraj
4. Sanjoy_Bandopadhyay- Husseini Kanada (Sitar)
5. Sanjoy_Bandopadhyay-Anandi-Kalyan
6. Sanjoy_Bandopadhyay-Kafi_Thumri
7. Sanjoy_Bandopadhyay-Sohini
8. Jayateerth_Mevundi-Raga_Kedar...

Add to that, a lot of other semi-classical fusion songs which were enthralling to say. Now, if you are thinking that I could distinguish between all those ragas mentioned here, you are mistaken. I could know what they are, only because they were explicit in the file-names of the songs themselves :-). That, is another regret that I have. My ear not being "intelligent" enough to discern the various ragas and talas. I probably will relish the music more, if I can do that.

Next step would be, to add to the list of songs. And I know where exactly to do that !

Irony

Calmness personified on the outside.
A violent sea of mood swings on the inside.

Preaching fearlessness to others.
Possessing the heart of a sheep.

Apparent role model to many.
Never hated anyone, as much as self.

One hundred percent sure about others' success.
Equally sure about self's failure.

Giving into spirituality.
Giving into lust as well.

Considering oneself to be an introvert.
Publishing some of the innermost held secrets/private incidents on a public blog.

Finally,
A forty minute jog/walk at Lalbagh.
Followed by idly-vada + masala dosa + chow-chow bath, at Vidyarthi Bhavan.

p.s I: No wonder then, opposites are known to attract each other so strongly.

p.s II: Whoever said, that all these things are about me (If you thought so, that is) ?