Winged Fantasy

What would it feel like to fly? To just spread my wings and take off? Soar high above and beyond the misty clouds. Breeze turning into wind, wind turning into lungful gushes of air. Closer to the stars and farther away from insanity. How would it be to literally have a bird’s eye view of things? Look at the bigger picture and realise how small I am in this magnanimous cosmos, how insignificant my constant bickering is in the larger scheme of things. Wish in one look I could absorb the image of the entire universe and be mesmerized for life! That would make me value what I have. Life is beautiful, magical in every single way. I want to awaken my senses and become aware of this power. I want to glide – far and away – taking in every scenic image, every wonder of nature through every pore of my anatomy. To float in air as we sometimes float in water – ah bliss! And then I find my winged companions all flying by, greeting with a nod at the mutual knowledge of the bliss and liberation in flying ! Sigh, how I wish, how I wish I could fly!!!

Har Har Mahadev!!

One movie that has, in the recent past, definitely impacted me is Naan Kadavul (I am God). Being a Punjabi, it was quite a challenge following the language completely but thanks to my best friend – cum – tamil translator I managed to grasp what the director, Bala, was trying to convey.
Arya plays the role of an Aghori. Coincidentally I read about Aghoris recently in a book – Keep off the grass by Karan Bajaj (good book by the way, grab a copy if you can). There is a small mention of them wherein the protagonist bumps into one on the ghats of Benares. He strikes up a conversation with an Aghori, out of curiosity, after seeing him walk up from behind a funeral pyre. He runs for his life when the Aghori tells him that he and his clan eat human flesh, only dead bodies though. It is their way of thanking and celebrating God’s greatest creation!
So, keeping this context in mind, I was watching the movie intently. It links Arya and a group of beggars who have been mercilessly pushed into this ghastly trade by a devious money-minter who is a sanctimonious humbug. The movie depicts a very dark, gory but possibly very true state of the beggars in India who are mostly handicapped. Now, some are born as such and some are turned into one by beasts who earn through their misery.
In my opinion, this is more impactful than the slumdog version. Anyway, so coming back. The movie traverses through the trials and tribulations of these street urchins / beggars who are a closely knit group and despite the pathetic conditions dare to bear a smile and have a cutting sense of wit & humor.
But their lives only get from bad to worse and the movie reaches the climax when the female lead (Pooja, definitely at par with Arya’s excellence!) is about to get sucked into the viscious vortex of prostitution, despite being blind. The bad guys chasing the damsel in distress find themselves pitted against Arya, the aghori, who has the power to sense the evil aura in humans and as a true aghori believes that he has the right to wipe off their existence from the face of earth. He eats one guy up after beating him into a pulp and brutally murders the other by banging his head on a huge rock.
You would think that this would be the end and the beggars lived happily ever after. But no. This is what makes the movie so weirdly interesting. Pooja has been tortured and her spirit broken beyond repair. She heart-wrenchingly pleads Arya to relieve her of all this pain and suffering. Killing the villains won’t solve her problems as soon there’ll be new faces but the story would remain the same. One more power the Aghoris are believed to possess is that they can bring eternal salvation to any human being. A person that dies through them would be relieved of the cycle of life and death. And hence, Arya steps up and slits Pooja’s throat, granting her liberation. And the movie ends there..with Arya walking on sand, with the same eerie madness in his eyes, detached from the world. Strange and yet so likeable.

Unworthy Ramblings..perhaps?

For us her pride was a worthless dime,
That's what I hear her saying;
Justified is her pain and whine,
It is, I admit, a gory slaying.

All those things that she held dear,
No longer exist save her tear;
Which refuses to stream down and wash away
Those unpardonable wounds that claim to stay.

She found herself arrested in a labyrinth
Of vain truths and lame promises
Of a friend indeed and a pillar of strength
Neither of who a helping hand could lend.

But what she knows not is the other side of the coin,
Hapless undoings in the guise of crime;
Deserting beloveds to seek selfish pleasure
Or is it a prophecy of an inexorable measure?

She sees our lives as a selfish bargain
Of her pride for our eternal flagrance,
But I see it as a heavy price we pay
To wage a war with this world of reasons -

Reasons to live as an image, as a reflection
Feed one's soul to their endless desires of perfection
How do I tell her that it's not easy here too ?
Hurting her has split me cruelly into two .

But this is the only way we saw
To walk the road as total outlaws
I apologize truly for all that has passed
I dearly love you, O Sister of my Heart!!

The Flow of Life!!

What am I doing in God's name? Life has so many gifts to offer every living day and yet I choose to see only that which has perished or plain absent. How juvenile of me.
I guess the problem is that we take life too seriously. It's always I, me , mine. There's always the worry and anxiety of doing this but wanting that. Sane ancestors of ours have cried hoarse about Life being a journey and not the destination. And yet, somehow, we are never able to free ourselves from the clutches of this temptress. It's all about performing, here and now. How much money we make, how beautiful we are, how many people love us, how to acquire this, how to dump that...the list is endless. There is no acceptance or realisation that we are all here for some transcendental purpose with powers beyond our imagination. We fritter away our lives on superficialties - vain ego trips, impotent power struggles, shallow vanity hassles and what have you. As I read just yesterday in The Fountainhead, people confuse their selfishness as selflessness. They always live through others' desires. How others view them, think of them, judge them, rate them. Be it Esteem, Pride, Fame, Popularity. All these are bestowed by external factors on to them. So if a person is desirious of success and fame, it is not selfishness but in a way, parting with the self, and hence selflessness, as what you achieve is only in the eyes of the onlooker. If others talk about your success, it is recognised as success. So where is the worth and value of it withnin oneself? We are what the world labels us - this is how people live - days and years of their precious lives. And because of this very tendency, we lose ourselves. We feel hollow and deserted within. After the limelight dims, there are no dark shadows - its just you - staring at the empty mirror. I remember Floyd's song here - "Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky"...
So, come on now, Live it up - for yourself. Does the flower bloom for poets to praise its beauty? Do butterflies flutter around to inspire painters? Does the river stream down gaily for folk songs to be written? No. Do these acknowledgements lend to the enhancement of the beauty of any thing in nature? No. What others make out of your life is their take home, their own enjoyment out of indulgence. It does not in anyway add value or change the nature of your talents and achievements. We live in a give and take world but that does not in any mean that even self-respect and self-worth are to be bargained in a mutual appreciation society. There's another beautiful thing Ayn Rand has said - the fact that you have to go out and search for your self-respect indicates its non-existence. Self-respect just is - within you, for you, by you and no one can take it away.
Smile and live life without carrying the burden of judgement. Quit being subject to post-mortem everytime you move a finger nail. Life may cease at any blind turn. Sieze every moment and LIVE it!!!
The Flow Of Life
If the sky above seems cloudy,And you are left out in the rain,
If you are searching for a rainbow,But the colors bring you pain,
If your world is not revolving,And there is no end in sight,
If you are looking for the sunshine,But all you see is night,
If all around are smiling,But all you can do is frown,
If you are tired of all this living,When life just brings you down,

Then look beyond your teardrops,At the wonders of this land,
The beauty of a flower,Like velvet in your hand.
Feel the air around you,The smell of new mown hay,
Laughing children in the park,The innocence there at play,
Imagine floating with a butterfly,As she flutters between the trees,
Or the whispers of the ocean,On warm hot summer’s breeze,
Think of the taste of candy floss,As it melts upon your tongue,
Or the melody of morning birds,As they greet each day with song,
Remember words of beauty,Told in your mother’s embrace,
Feel the gentleness of her touch,As she softly kissed your face,
Seek the good within you,Cast the clouds from your sky,
Don’t look toward the pavement,But hold your head up high,
Think not what life owes you,But of all you have to give,
Forget about tomorrow,Then you can start to live.
So Bless this age your are living in,
With the gifts you can bestow,
Don’t disregard the stream of life,
Go gently with the flow.

Right Now..

I feel on top of the world!!!!!!!!!

Har Ghar Kuch Kehta Hai!!!

Laughter, tears, anxiety, excitement, indolence, weariness, fear, anger, relief, all resident members of me and my extended self - my room. Today mumma tells me we have to vacate this house as it isn’t ours and we’ve to move on. It isn’t ours? How can it not be when every brick, every speck of dust, every chipped paint coating and every crack in the wall has been witness to my life, my being, my survival, my fight, my victory and my defeat? I have grown up here from a silly girl to a muddled up woman, from a carefree bird to a fierce wild eagle, from a lost soul to a free spirit.
My loyal friends, the curtains always donned the mood I wore – sunshiny happy yellow or deep sad green, always lending a fluttering shoulder to dance or to cry on. Prison it seemed but never did the walls hold me captive; they only silently absorbed my tears into their pores. Even when the air was heavy, pregnant with animosity, the windows always let in pleasant zephyrs as lullabies putting me to sleep. Away from the crazy rush of people, noisy minds and jabbering tongues I always found my way back to my sanity, my haven, my favourite room. Change is constant and we will move on, leave this place and seek comfort elsewhere. But I am leaving behind a major part of me, the part which is the scrap, the me which went through the cutting, chiseling, drilling, shaping, painting and polishing to give the final product!! I step out of this room, this house with a world of change in me. But what I’ll never forget is that it is this room where I cried over the loss of my brother, blushed at the feeling of falling in love, burnt the midnight oil to prepare for exams, shared a gazillion secrets with my friends, read the most amazing books on my favourite couch, admired myself in the mirror for hours, danced like a crazy kangaroo to blaring music, tried to mend my broken heart, made vital decisions in my life, learnt that Life is either NOW and HERE or NOWHERE.
I’ll miss you my room, I’ll miss you my dear house. You have been my biggest comfort, like a mother embracing me and soothing me through the warm days and the cold nights. Goodbye sweet home.

But this time the slithering slimy mucous-filled shapeless evil creature has managed to cross the divide and has surpassed the Entrance Stone.