Come On INDIA!!

Things are changing fast. Perception and its reaction have quite changed in these years. Thanks to media, and people like Anna Hazzare and Baba Ramdev...The stream of awareness in people’s perception is finally claiming to bring a Tsunami against the old-wretched political and beureachratic system of India.     

A revolution is not an accident. It is certificate for people’s lost faith and dying hope to existing governing system. And the recent appalling acts of corruption one after another by governing party were more than enough to trigger the people’s fury. And when Anna Hazzare became the torch bearer, millions supported him in the hope that a “Change” would finally come. The “Change”.... The dawn of which will bring the end of blood-sucking-Vampires from Indian Political and beureachratic system.

So my question is ...Would really the acceptance of LOKPAL BILL bring this change or would it just create another camouflaged and just superficially-changed old system, painted in eyes-soothing colours? The biggest threat of LOKPAL BILL is it might centralize the power in the hands of few civil people who could curb both judiciary as well as Prime minister. Well, History is witness that centralization of power has never been a good idea. It would eventually lead to either dictatorship or complete anarchy. Therefore, It is imperative that there should not be an isolated control, control must be mutual....not unidirectional.

Anna Hazzare’s war against government is not a political movement. Somehow BaBa Ramdev involvement in this crusade politicized the revolution and tried to defile the demand of “Change” into just “the change of Existing government”. It is not the change of Government that will bring the solution of corruption...But It is the change of policy which can make the system more transparent and system more accountable to common citizens. And that is where inclusion of top official in LOKPAL bill could be effective.

I admire Anna and Baba...not because what they are personally but for their initiation....And countries like India where people are shamelessly-sleeping in their own pigeon hole and are completely oblivious to their rights and duties...it is indeed great to initiate. A revolution cannot churn the system for good if it does not have a clear vision and plan for implementation. Initiation is prerequisite which no doubt has been offered by Anna Hazzare and somewhat by Baba Ramdev. But a collective clear vision and implementation are outcome of intellect that is where I feel, rawness of LOKPAL bill can be polished and modified by the constructive suggestions and discussions.

We, the youths, have been sleeping for decades. I wonder how many of the youths would have any idea about LOKPAL Bill. I salute Anna Hazarre for taking a stand against the rising corruption and for raising alarm against sleeping Junta of India. Hazzare has lighted the torch...and it is duty of our youths to perpetuate the torch until the deep-seated corruption incinerates into ashes. If you want the change, be the change.

Come On INDIA!!!!

It would be apt to repeat Thakur’s dialogue from Sholey in the current scenerio...

(लोहा गर्म है मार दो हथौरा )

Fluttering-Flames

The fluttering-flames of the candle-light

Was making me breath in and out

As her sparkling face was swinging to shadowy-unknown

An explicable beauty was flowing

Like mesmerizing-rays of dawning sun

When I looked into her deep-dark-dazzling eyes

Could see the burning flame fluttering with her disheartening-sigh

And, the tears, dammed to blaze the flame for long

I know the flame might smoulder my flammable-feelings

Despite... it is the light of flame that shows me a path

A path of purpose, a path of love...

And trust me; even your flames would burn me...

You have my tears...dammed in your eyes

Beauty and Real Beauty

Have you ever felt what sets wings to your emotions as you suddenly exclaim,” What a beautiful thing this is!” For us anything can be beautiful, irrespective of person, place or emotion. Even a tragic movie ends, leaving tears into our eyes and our heart wells out saying it.... beautiful!!

So, really, to define beauty is as difficult as to define ‘point’ in mathematics. However, I would say everything, beautiful which is the object of happiness. But remember, not the source of happiness. The difference of object and source must be understood to appreciate this definition. Let me explain it through example:

When we meet our loved one after a long-time, our eyes become full of tears. We cry...But we feel happiness...I would call it beauty....
But how am I able to witness this beauty? It is because I have already bore the pain of being away from her.
The source of happiness is the pain. But Pain itself is not the happiness.

May be for one person, the clamouring of birds is just noise and for other it is the music of existence. For a same person, a flower seems an ordinary thing at one moment. And at the next moment, it starts appearing a beautiful gift of existence. 

Does it mean that beauty is only in eyes of seer?  Does it mean it is psychological? Does it mean that we have to squeeze the beauty by being in complete awareness? Well, I feel it is.

What makes TajMahal beautiful? What makes a golden sculpture more beautiful than iron sculpture?

When we see an object, we perceive an image in the reflection of many things. Like if we are seeing a historical building, its history and mystery is as important as its infrastructure in judging beauty. 

Even gold and diamond are regarded as beautiful, not only because they are but also due to rarity and usefulness. For a child, I think marble and gold would not make a difference in terms of beauty.  

What makes a woman/man beautiful for man/woman?

It is his/her desire, in the shadow of which they define beauty. Well, sex is an important aspect but it is not the only one; care, compassion, security and many other things plays a vital role in judging the person beautiful. 

He likes SRK( actor) but his liking is just projection of his subtle desire to be like him. He likes Aishwarya because consciously and unconsciously he wants to posses her.

One calls Mother Teresa beautiful, not because her appearance but due to her philanthropic works.

One likes Ferrari not because it looks but it would fill his subtle desire. Now this desire is also product of many things (human instincts).

Why do people consider fairer people more beautiful?

I think it is just conditioning of mind. Black people had been subjected to slavery, humiliation and disgrace for many centuries. Consequently, people’s minds have been conditioned to accept this bitter and atrocious fact even today. It is imperative to ponder as there are some communities where measurement of beauty is just reverse of general thinking. Even Krishna, who is considered as the most beautiful person on earth had dark complexion which itself shows dark was beautiful in the past. Society fills our mind with prejudices and dogmas, in the reflection of which we judge beauty.

What I conclude is when we see an object we judge it according to its attributes in every dimension like history, mystery, pain endured, rarity and usefulness. Beauty is a function of those attributes which are just projection of our desire. 

World would be always discriminated in two parts- beautiful and ugly if we did have desire and conditioned mind. 

Real  beauty...?

As I have not experienced what real beauty is, so at most I can give a hypothetical explanation of real beauty. When one sees an object without any judgement of good or bad; without any history or mystery; without any desire, I think the emotion he feels at that very moment would be Real beauty. And beauty of this assumption lies in the fact that in this way everything would be beautiful. An eternal beauty would be in one’s eyes. This might be the beauty which is explained in our scriptures and is felt by very rare personalities like Buddha (after enlightment).

This is my entry for participating in The Yahoo Dove Real Beauty Contest. Click below to vote me if you liked the post.

Drops

In the serene-still surface of water

When a rain-drop strikes

A ripple flows towards the shore

Leaving behind the circular traces

When sun-light glistens the recurring flow

The sparkling aura seems like infinite lives

Dancing and enjoying in their colourful dresses

With humming melodious tune

Celebrating and welcoming a new one

Now, an indistinguishable part of Whole

It is now scorching rays of sun

Burning and boiling

As if disaster is pushed into million drops of life

Even the tears of all is not suffice to melt the heart of sun

They run; they protect and like a martyr

Sacrifice their life for one another

And now it is night

The cold breezy air is flowing

And letting the tiresome drops relax

And forget all the sorrows, pains and losses

Perhaps getting them ready for new dawn

New life and new fight...

A Melody

My eyes were closed
And my mind empty
Yet I could see
A life, coming in and going out
Through my nostrils, wind-pipe to my stomach
And I could feel my heart humming a melody...
A melody!!...vibrating and resonating my soul
Invigorating me to dance, sing and roll...
And my fingers moving on the key-board
Letting me out the indescribable feeling
Through the words, but in vain
The words were just old...stale...
With every word typed in...It is just past, a memory
Not the feeling...
I wonder if I could hold the feeling
Tightly and cosily
And every time, I did...
I felt the synchronicity loosen down
And my soul fastened

A Living-invisible to Dead-Visible

Every day when I went to my office

I saw her on the road side

Watching vigorously

Without blinking her abysmal eyes

Her frail skull, her bony body

Her bare feet, her scattered hairs

Her reedy fingers, her cold look

Shivered my whole being

Felt like a lightening stroke to my heart

And then when I saw people walking by

Without noticing her existence

Absorbed in their own symphony

I wonder if she is too thin to be invisible

Invisible to all of us...

And then when I reached my home

She just became a tragic moment of today’s episode...

And her memories got fade away with each passing moment

Life went on...

She was never different...

Yeah! Worst can’t be worse...

And with each passing day...  I got immune to her...

She was just a picture hung in my memories

Now...my shivering...and lightening stroke

Got softened through the passage of time...

And suddenly one day... I did not see her...

And again, next day...

Then, again and again

Now it had been two weeks I saw her...

And today when I opened my newspaper

I saw her... Her numb eyes...her cold look...

Her disseminated hairs...

Even her death could not change her look....

But of course, had changed her worth...

“A living-invisible to dead-visible”

WRITING

Life seems to be shrunk between past and future and when such thing happens, obviously the view of present remains blurred and congested. With tumbling-walk on the road of life and in the hue and cry of expectations and concerns, life seems like a burdened rock tied to neck. It has been long when I heard the voice of myself but now, is it not too late? ...too late to rejuvenate these dead tissues.

With the last line of above paragraph, I felt my thoughts jumbled, my finger seized and emotions dried. I don’t know why and how, but it is none of my business. I just want to feel myself which never releases out due to inexplicable weight of life and I want to see something which I cannot see when I see myself in mirror daily morning.

For me, writing is like seeing and it is also one that vaporizes the grime from my soul. I believe till I can put my fingers on the keyboard or can hold a pen, I would be never blind nor would my soul be too heavy to carry my life.

My Random thoughts

It has been quite long since I have written anything for my blog. Sadly, I have written just one poem in these two months. Sometimes I wonder if it was me who has written so many articles on my blog. Today when I remember how passionate I was for writing during those jobless days I envied of me of those days. The happiness of writing was something I realized late in my life. I owe to writing since it revealed something that was unknown, hidden and suppressed with too many layers of weighing life. It was obviously not something great... if “Great” only means an objective parameter for measuring achievement and accomplishment. But it was self-satisfying, like happiness blossomed through his creative effort.  This feeling is so personal that it creates a charm for self and invigorates our self with beauty, appreciation and sense of accomplishment. Writing teaches a lot. It is the best mirror to see our self. It lets us to ponder over things which seem trivial for others, and most importantly it taught me is to think systematically. It is indeed a joy to see how a systematic approach simplifies a complex problem.

Complexity is just web of simplicity. It just depends how you look into the system. Even the most complex system can be deduced to certain integration of simple systems. Systematic thought is discrete in nature. We can easily see the chunks of independent thought woven with well defined responses of others. I love simplifying things. It is a same force of creativity which guides when a painter simplifies the complexity of countless emotions and undefined ambiance onto such a small canvass or when a writer writes intricate and abstruse feeling into words. Though, it is abstract for others but complete for them. The pursuit of Simplification has been continuing for centuries. Philosophy and science, are actually the way to simplify the seemingly complexity of nature. Formulations of scientific laws are just outcome of these attempts. “Theory of Everything” might be the culmination of scientific ways to simplify things.  But somehow, I feel the quest of simplifying things will be continued till this world exists. 

This all shows how innate the quest for simplifying things is. It is the same thing which ignites a passion for exploring things, questioning systems and facing challenges. It is embedded in Artist’s Creativity as well as scientist’s curiosity.

I have started a blog exclusively for photography. Please go through the link and let me know how you feel about it. 

Blind

It was a fine morning

The songs of birds, the warmth of sun

A divine breeze was blowing

Carrying the fragrance of heaven

I felt so blessed

And tried to open my sleepy eyes

But they were heavy

Too heavy to lift them up

I felt helpless...I cried...I wept

And when those tears rolled out...

They moistened and soften my eyes

With my fingers I pulled my eye lids up

And it was dark...absolute darkness

The warmth, the fragrance, the music

There was nothing...except that abysmal darkness

I cried,” have I become blind? “

And he laughed...No dear, you always were...

But from now you are no longer...

And he switched on the room’s light

 I was no more a blind.

Life is Beautiful

He looked deep down in his heart, searching the reasons of the restlessness and the never-felt pain which was literally tearing out his soul from his physical body. In the cacophony of so many unanswerable questions, reasons were lying like half-lived fish, just taken out of the life of ocean. When reasons don’t seem obvious, passion starts reigning mind. But this passion was different in the sense that it was not for getting the reasons but getting out of the reasons... and the questions... and its damn answers. He saw his numb eyes, big nose and big dark-scattered hairs in the glass filled with dark liquid put above the table. The whirling of Fan, the flickering of tube light and the alcoholic smell, had made the ambience look like no less than a horror movie. He was lying like a lump of flesh on his easy chair, putting his legs above the table and one hand holding the glass and other in his lap. The packet of new classic cigarettes was lying down saying “smoking causes Cancer” sounding like the worst joke of his life. In one sip he finished the glass. He felt fire burning down his body. He could hear the pounding of his heart as if it was being repeatedly hammered. He tried to lift his hands but perhaps they were not his now. They did not move. He felt something pulling out him from his body and this pull was terribly unkind.

Grrrrrrrrrr-----His mobile vibrated. With all his effort he moved his eyes and saw number flashing “Mom”. Tears rolled down from his eyes. He felt so helpless. Thoughts started swirling into his mind. And these thoughts came like tornado, storming out everything. For the first time at the verge of dying and living he got scared of death. He got scared of missing the love; the beauty of life. Love comes like tornado. one can't resist it but can assist it. The horror of life turned into a wish to live eternity. Life was looking so beautiful in the eyes of his loved ones. He disdained himself of doing this. But he had already done it and there was no "ALT +Z". He felt something dawning upon him. Perhaps his soul was trying to come out of his ailing body. And at the next moment he got fainted.  

“Life is beautiful”

“This inspiring book has not only made a world record for the most selling copies but also has changed the life of millions. And today, we are highly privileged to have the speaker, the author of this book, Siddhartha Kashyap, also the founder of LIB (Life is Beautiful) international welfare organisation.”

In the midst of thundering claps, a man, in his late 60s appeared at the podium. He had charismatic radiant eyes. He closed his eyes and felt the God inside, perhaps thanking him for giving his life back, 32 years ago.

Everyone comes here for special purpose. There are nothing like good and bad things. There are only “things” which shape us, forge us to be ready to serve our purpose.  

The Day of Eternal Sleep

The Heart- wrenching moments

And the moments of bliss

 Each moment I am becoming new

Peeling out old-rusted-rotten skin

And my heart learns a new more melodious tune

After every tornado of sorrow

And when tears rolls down

They also seep away the blurriness of eyes

I can feel the old, me,

 Becoming new, more and more beautiful

Perhaps life is letting me to my most beautiful day

The day of absolute new, the day of eternal sleep.

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