Saturday, 25 May 2013

A story : Is it yours?...

              Tears rolled across her moist eyes. It was decided then. She took firm yet fragile steps towards the beach and the raving sea. The same beach where she used to relish as a kid. The same beach where she used to relish and rejoice as a kid. The same beach where she had fussed at the sea for scattering her sand castles. The naked feet and the sand beneath. It was all too familiar. The 'bhelvala' had packed up his stall and was on the move. It was almost twilight. The sun in the distance was a vibrant red. So bright yet not intense. This was the place, she had frequented the most as a child. Never before had this beach heard her sobs. The only tears she shed here were of pristine joy. But it was a different scenario today. Her brain was in a muddle. Her heart was in trouble. She had not lived up to the expectations. Everyone had expected a lot of her. The expectant smiles replayed in the theatre of her mind. The way the elder ones would be proud and the way the little ones would be in awe. It was all lost in a jiffy. All was in a disarray now.

           She could still recall the way her father had proclaimed proudly, that she would be the one to break all the records. Leave alone records she had failed. Good that he had not yet seen her. She could not face her father. He had pooled in every penny for her. Savings and valuables had been mortgaged just for her. She shouldn't have taken the leap. It was just too high for her.

                          'Cut your cloak according to your means'

                This thought taunted her. Yet she had not paid heed. And now here she was in shambles. Failing miserably. The waves by now tickled her bare feet. The cold touch brought her back from the haunting reverie. Her feet moved as if they had a mind of their own. Carrying her further towards the edge of the shore. And now she was almost waist deep. The water soothed her numb mind. Her hands splaying across the cold surface. The cool jets of water rushing through her fingers. Exhilarating it was to face the retiring sun. She would join him soon. To retire from this life. But unlike the Sun there would be no tomorrow for her. She would set forever never to rise. It was strangely calming to know that it would end soon. Leaving this realm for another one. No use of living now. She had to do it. It would be relief to end it. To end her life... In the distance something stirred. It was unexpected. An old fisherman she could sense. Gathering his net. Where did he come from? It was going to be a nuisance. Ohh go way!.. Let me end it. Let me take MY LIFE... she thought. And then she heard him say.. "Is it yours?",, She was caught unawares. As she turned towards him. He had a handkerchief, probably had been stuck in the net. She nodded in denial. The fisherman shrugged and went  away. But he hadn't left her alone; He had left her a question.. "Is it yours?"
               The question rang in her head. Was it hers? Was her life her own?? Complete ownership?? Was she the absolute owner of her life? Her father's face flashed across. The smile, the beautiful smile, especially reserved for her.  He had a share in her life too, hadn't he?? Her mates, buddies, teachers, brothers, sisters, every individual had a share in her life. Those tiny moments they had invested in her life. They surely had a share. Her life wasn't only hers to take. NO, Not an option. To end it.. As a wave came gushing to embrace her, she recoiled. What was she about to do.. That terrible moment had passed. The terrible pain was still there. But her body had accepted it now. Rather than running away. The pain would become a part of her life. She could see clearly now. As if some mist had been cleared away. Taking small yet determined steps, on her way back to the life that wasn't solely hers. The old fisherman was nowhere to be seen. No raft marks on the sand, nothing at all. Nothing could prove the existence of the old man. He had vanished without a trace. Leaving nothing but a question. A question, which had saved her.. "Is it yours?"

Friday, 24 May 2013

Sending out those positive vibes

               At times we read about newer discoveries in the stream of quantum physics. Sadly this word is being used very loosely nowadays. The relation between the actual existence of things is being made more and more complicated. Science has made man to refine sources of energy. Energy has been just in the reach of human intellect. And man has been trying to polish it and make it more exploitable. But at this juncture we forget that there is an avenue beyond energy and it is much more expansive. That avenue is the "vibrations". The vibrations are much more subtle than energy. As we have merely been acquainted with dual nature of particles. This is really a great thought been developed by De Broglie (properly pronounced as 'Dee Broye'). Particularly the wave part. This article is not on scientific terms, but I had to resort to them just for an introduction. The Human body is much more than it is seen by human eyes. It has a much more subtle layer around it. And it is the vibrations. The vibrations that we create by our own thoughts.                                   
          The thoughts have much more credit in shaping our lives than we actually give them. In fact it is mere thoughts that define the boundaries or dissolve the boundaries of our life. The greatest the most seemingly improbable innovations have been first developed in the processor of our brain feeding the coding via thoughts. The adage "nothing is impossible" needs to be taken very seriously if we really mean to achieve anything at all in our the life. The vibrations of our thoughts are sent out in this universe (and if you mean to believe me not just one but infinitely many universes). The simple analogy to this is that. We ourselves are like an "Antenna" and transmit our thoughts feelings and emotions into space. Our frequency then gets tuned according to the nature of our thoughts (this again is relative). This frequency then decides how vivid will the circumstances be in our life.
  For example many a times we get an instant hatred for any random stranger.. or on the contrary we get a feeling of intense attachment for someone. The most apt explanation for this is our thoughts and the consequent vibes we send out. I would like to put forth a quote.

" Every relation in this world is nothing but a mirror of thoughts which the two people have for one another"

    Going by the above maxim, we get to know the importance of thoughts. Our mind has no capability to differentiate between good and bad. It is we ourselves who have to be conscious at three levels.

        If we create check points at these three levels we Will win over the world to our side. Great men are none but the ordinary ones who knew to keep a check at these three levels. Rest assured all falls into a line automatically. The sad thing is that the vast majority does not know the importance of thoughts. In fact we don't even pay attention to what we think. We think that we are quite safe enough in the privacy of our minds (beware of telepaths :P ).. But it isn't so. Every little thought that passes by the vacant fields of our mind sows its seed. And where there is action there has to be a reaction. And hence by this law we do get a result. The only thing is that we don't have the time and patience to analyse ourselves. I have met many a proponents of YOLO "You only live once" philosophy. And it is meant to spent (rhyming isn't it :P ).
          With all due respect my only answer would be for them... IF we live only once, why not live beautifully. Life is an art, enjoy it. And I do not mean, whale it away. There are means by which you can find beauty in the merest of rocks. Even the coconut palm tree.. the beauty it exudes. Like a mother it holds the coconuts close to its womb sheltering them from the sun. THis is beauty. And for me this beauty itself if is GOD..

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Chuck it away

Don't change for the sake of somebody
Polishing, relishing, frolicking your way
Its a crime to force yourself for some Maddy
Simply chuck it away

Living to match the standards set out
Running the rat race with drudgery
overcoming what is only laid about
Simply chuck it and clearly see

Great men said great things for us 
Get inspired but not blind
Carve your own path drive your own bus
Simply chuck the past behind

At times when the devil of anger creeps
Give it a vent to lose it all
Jump high as you can but remember no one really weeps
Simply chuck and let it fall

No one is going to give you a medal for your pamper
Neither for your branded styled jeans
Criticism, take it in but not let it hamper
Simply chuck those plans and use your means

It is the mad ones who make it large
So don't smother the sleeping maniac
Let it grow big and break, push and barge
Simply chuck off what's on the spoon-fed rack

On your way to the awaiting deathbed
There will come many a friends
Never let them out of your heart though may they fall off your head
Simply chuck every thought and think, as this thing ends

Monday, 20 May 2013

Rewind those days..

Jumping off a cliff into the sea of questions along the shore,

Full of riddles, puzzles and doubts and many things a more

The time when we used to be curious about the tiniest of things,
Asking and pestering our parents about why don't we grow little wings

When the shadow following us under the sun was a mystery book,
And the fragrance of flowers was as tempting as the way it used to look

The night time stars were mere shiny lamps glimmering all the way,
And not balls of gases in the universe with fixed orbit paths and bright as may

It was when respect was something which came right from our heart,
And not to be preached on slide shows or using an underlined branded chart
Relishing the melting ice cream cone, was a delight we awaited for,
Statuses, instagrams and snapshots never mattered than Ray and his drigger

Cartoons gave us a new world to live in, exploring our vast mind,
It was simply the sweetest smile which would make friendships bind

When gossip was a word yet un looked in the untouched dictionary,
The boy with the latest designer pencil was worshipped as a visionary

Eyes knew just one quality, which they now search as in innocence,
Never had to hid them behind glares or cooking up a stylish new pretence 

Hide and seek, was game for all, not a difference for a girl or a boy,
Finding your hidden mates from behind walls and nooks was sheer joy

Quarrels and arguments were not uncommon during play time,
But all was forgotten and forgiven in a jiffy and mere teasing wasn't a crime
You would be punched, hit or pushed but never slapped,
Ego, pride and esteem used to be locked away and always zapped

Breaking a toy just bought new was more common than breaking hearts,
We used to play games on boards and roads but not cunning scheming parts

Used to select from the colourful cadbury gems and not a choosy dress,
Climbing to reach for jars of goodies, tiny little fingers ending all in a mess

Tears would come easy, but never ashamed of them, for the silliest of reasons in life,
Not like now when words cut through miles and distances sharper and painful than a knife

At times it seems an option to sit in the time machine and go all the way back,
Revisit the memories, shed all pretence and be child and simply enjoy cheerily our favourite snack

Yet if I search within there is always the silly, stupid, mindless, streak,

Waiting just to be let off the hook, to shout, scream, laugh and sometimes squeak.

Sunday, 19 May 2013

The ageing Platform

                                            The dented goods train chugged out of the old station. The station wore a sordidly empty look. A lonely gas lamp spilled musty light around it. The platform guard made his way back to the shambles called as his railway office. The station 'Ciborna' had been somehow forgotten. The arthritis in his weakened knees kicked in. He let out a sigh and sat on the platform chair, made of solid stone. The guard set the lamp on the floor and dimmed it. The days had gone by. The time when Ciborna was a hub of activity. The hustle bustle of the porters and the screams of the vendors had died out. The hurrying passengers had forgotten Ciborna too.
           The damned new express train bypassed Ciborna running straight through the mountain, which once used to be encircled by the trains going via Ciborna. There was nothing majestic about Ciborna. But yes it was a respite for the train drivers. The drivers would get off the train here for a cup  of tea in those chilly mornings and nights alike. They used to bring in the gossip from the cities. The latest news about the revolutions. The guard used to entertain the chanter. It was a welcome change. The tea vendor used to earn considerably too. Something about Ciborna used to attract the passengers too. The passengers used to prefer Ciborna to the rather more accessible Kelby station. May be it was for the scenic view Ciborna provided or perhaps it was the difference of two rupees in the ticket charges. The guard smirked, probably it was the later. He was 18 when he had started his job as a junior guard at Ciborna. It had been 51 long years. Really long. He should have retired by now. In fact he was awarded a voluntary retirement just 8 years ago. Just when the express way train had started. But no, he wouldn't accept it.

       Ciborna was now no longer frequented. Just a single luggage train made a trip via Ciborna, once a week. The station master had been transferred to Kelby for the expressway train. The station sweeper had left long ago. The tea vendor was no more now. Some how he, the guard was the only one left behind. All to see, Ciborna wither away. Those days of liveliness were mere memories now. Yet the guard had stayed back for his beloved station. The night was treacherous. As a strong breeze blew tugging at the flickering lamp. As the wind finally succeeded blowing off the lamp. But it wasn't only the lamp that had been extinguished. It was the treacherous wind which had blown away another flame.. The withering old flame of life.. And now his body would lay on the stone chair of Ciborna waiting for another week before the next luggage train to discover it lifeless..


          The earth which is supposed to be a planet which has been blessed by the gift of life. It is billions of years old. The life of any individual is enormously insignificant in the book of earth's history. Many civilisations int the history of past 4000 years came and left their mark. Their  physical remains, went into oblivion. Yet even to this day the culture, the thoughts of many great civilisations breathe among us. There are numerous such cultures which at times got differentiated and at times integrated to form a amalgam of cultures. It is  overwhelming to take a note of every geographically defined culture. Our present day activities are nothing but a highly refined(or are they?) version of our ancestors. Any culture has some prominent ethics which perpetuate in the followers of of that particular culture. In fact no individual or even a community, ever creates a culture consciously. It is an automated process, which neither has a zenith nor a nadir. Every culture vehemently stresses its greatness over other contemporary cultures. This gives rise to many a conflicts. In fact to a majority of conflicts. Culture is a collective emotion which embraces the lifestyle of the people. Some times people from one culture try and consciously imbibe it. Many times this permeation takes place unconsciously. Thus cultures evolve. The very universal law that "Change is the only constant" comes in to the larger picture. Hence the rigid and orthodox followers of any culture do more harm than good. The simple and easy activities degrade into mere traditions.
                     At this point of time, It is important to stress that no culture as such is 'Perfect'. Nothing in this world is meant to be perfect. Imperfection adds the subtle glimmer to the omnipresent beauty. Coming back on track culture is a phenomenon which can never be limited to the boundary of mere words. It is an everlasting experiences which permeates through thoughts and lives alike. It requires unflinching passion and a thirst to explore. We Indians are bearers of a culture which bears the power to redeem one and all from the edge of the precipice which stands over an abyss. Whatever the cynics and critics might proclaim. I believe that we do have hope. Even as in the Pandora's box all that was left was hope. It is mere hope that has provided the required boost in times of drudgery. The only root of misery is ignorance. The need of the time is being aware of the treasure that we possess. The key has been lost, but can be found. All I ask is for faith. A very big thing to ask of course in such times where all morality seems lost. But do ponder over. Culture is not a collection but every individual represents a Culture. It is an individual experience of collective action.