Dive In,Take a leap,Face your fears

There are times(not often) that you come across movies that change your life, and probably this one changed a few things in me. At the least it has succeeded to plant its message in my brain and has in a obvious way, made me think and give the Jo-bhi-ho-so-ho philosophy a chance. The movie can be summed in its name (as was the case with luck by chance) ,Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. The highlight of the movie for me were the poems by Imraan that appeared in apt situations with strong words that rip your soul wide open and tell you to live life to the fullest.(yet has succeeded to keep it simple, courtesy Javed Akhtar).


How it is only natural to get caught up in a boxed life and believing that you want something only because you are expected to. Acknowledge, that you have merely scratched the surface of knowing your own true self and have to dig much deeper to find what you really want. Dive in, take a leap and face your ultimate fear. Cause you know what ? Life wont give you another chance. Its all that you make of it.


Immediately after I got back, I googled the poems . Found four of them posted in the facebook page for the movie. Thank the Akhtar’s, for giving us that new found love for life. All three of you have been brilliant.


WARNING: If you are in the moment may give you goosebumps.


Dilon mein tum apni
Betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Nazar mein khwabon ki
Bijliyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise
Aazad rehno sikho
Tum ek dariya ke jaise
Lehron mein behna sikho
Har ek lamhe se tum milo
Khole apni bhaayein
Har ek pal ek naya samha
Dekhen yeh nigahaein
Jo apni aankhon mein
Hairaniyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Dilon mein tum apni
Betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum





Jab jab dard ka baadal chaya
Jab ghum ka saya lehraya
Jab aansoo palkon tak aya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya
Humne dil ko yeh samjhaya
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Duniya mein yunhi hota hai
Yeh jo gehre sannate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa
Aankh teri bekaar hi nam hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai...





Ik baat honton tak hai jo aayi nahin
Bas ankhon say hai jhaankti
Tumse kabhi, mujhse kabhi
Kuch lafz hain woh maangti
Jinko pehanke honton tak aa jaaye woh
Aawaaz ki baahon mein baahein daalke ithlaye woh
Lekin jo yeh ik baat hai
Ahsas hi ahsas hai
Khushboo si hai jaise hawa mein tairti
Khushboo jo be-aawaaz hai
Jiska pata tumko bhi hai
Jiski khabar mujhko bhi hai
Duniya se bhi chupta nahin
Yeh jaane kaisa raaz hai...





Pighle neelam sa behta ye sama,
Neeli neeli si khamoshiyan,
Na kahin hai zameen
Na kahin aasmaan,
Sarsaraati hui tehniyaan pattiyaan,
Keh raheen hai bas ek tum ho yahan,
Bas main hoon,
Meri saansein hain aur meri dhadkanein,
Aisi gehraiyaan, aisi tanhaiyaan,
Aur main...Sirf main.
Apne hone par mujhko yakeen aa gaya.

CHEENI KUM HYE...

Rarely things in life are dramatic enough to let you know they changed you. They tend to happen in a short time span or a period that you can clearly define. As teens we stammer our way through life. Unsure of our emotions and fairly oblivious to getting hurt that with years leads us to develop a defence mechanism against anything and everything that might remotely matter or cause us pain. It’s the foolishly ambitious nature that makes falling in love , making pacts with friends to be ”friends forever “ and that absolute belief in self that I can do anything I put my heart into, so easy that early in life. But the years that follow teaches us to build this fortress around us that no girl can breach, we realise friends come in phases and have to leave with time (enriching our lives in their own unique way nevertheless) and there is admittance of the limitations that come with our abilities. Is ignorance really bliss? Aren’t we better off foolish?

I remember making lemonade with six teaspoons of sugar (not kidding). Now I often enjoy a coffee black and without sugar. If I was at liberty to choose my likes – I would prefer to like that syrupy lemonade over a black coffee. Why ?? Seems more fun now doesn’t it. The cheeni kum philosophy has come to represent everything that has made life so bland. Now what can one say, I seem to be in conflict at what makes sense and what should make sense.

I have found myself to refuse to “love” someone I have come to deeply like over time. I just can’t get myself to act romantic after all these years I have come to criticise the idea of romantic love. At one moment all that gooey mushy talk seems just right and the very next my head is like “are you serious”. Damn my defence mechanism. It’s good. Why can’t I just be normal for this one thing. You reach that point where you are struggling to be honest with yourself and yet you fail to get the right answers. It’s this deeply cynical stance I tend to take when it comes to anything that promises to bring marked happiness .I refuse to be hopeful even if the tables are turned in my favour. If only I could get myself to jump to an orbital above or below (don’t much care if it’s stable or not). I am stranded somewhere in between and sure as hell missing out on something extraordinary to say the least.

Then what changed me so beyond repair. It would really help if I could put the blame somewhere. Then I could criticise it enough to undo myself. Were it the guys I hung out with making fun of the couples in college (especially the lame desperate ones), were it the shitty chick flicks whose trend has spread like herpes in the recent times or is it Chetan Bhagat for writing those books that are solely responsible for branding engineering colleges as a romantic utopia, all in for love and revolt. Well I don’t consider myself lucky enough to start blaming as of now. Is it supposed to be this confusing? Ted (HIMYM ref) says when the time is right you would just know. See I have opened myself enough to take advice from a nonsensical PBS sitcom. I don’t think it can get any better or worse #poeticbullcrap. However, its 5:06 in the morning and the time now is for my steaming cup of chai, with of course Kum Cheeni.

THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE

The end of third year at engineering marks the beginning if the big anti climax that is of course “final year “. Next year is all going to be how much we’re going to miss college, lots of tears over missing friends and bunking classes only to go out and do nothing which am pretty sure is going to ruin it for me anyway . Honestly I don’t think am going to miss college that much (if only a little maybe). Well that is what we do, we freak out that tomorrow is not going to be as comfortable and stable as today and in the process ruin today. It’s our everlasting quest for that stability that drives us to that place of convenience where we spend the rest of our lives and if we are lucky get to be happy. That is what makes me more scared than being sad when it comes to leaving college.

I don’t have a clue where that place outside the bounds of college is or more importantly how to work my way till there. In the past I have tricked myself into believing I want things only to find out the hard way they were never meant for me. I might have made slight improvement in that department with a little age and experience but that is not close enough to give any assurance from future catastrophes.

I go back to those nights I spent in the first year here with my cousin brothers watching Darjeeling Limited in pitch darkness which is about these three brothers looking for spiritual enlightenment and meaning for life as they travel through India . Anyway now all three of them (cousins) have jobs in different corners of the country and are leading their bittersweet lives.
I would any day make a deal to have something like that even if only to reduce the level of uncertainty that lies in front of me. Though pausing things right there or even now seems a more lucrative deal.

The ingredients for me are narrowed down to find that source that pays me for something that I don’t absolutely hate , confusion and uncertainty is minimum (this might differ for others) and have a friend(s) to share movie time with. All the big talk about ambition and I look to settle. In all fairness that is my ambition, to be devoted to laziness.What is my ultimate aim in life? Is being content the opposite of being ambitious? Am I ambitious, if yes, then what is my passion? Am I content, if yes, then why I am not happy? There is this urge to fast forward things to that moment where everything seems to work out. Can’t wait to see the first day of the rest of my life.

Change : yet again

I spent the early years of my childhood in salt lake (out skirts of Kolkata) and there are these vivid mental pictures I still retain that expressed Kolkata as the flagship city of the left. The walls painted with CPI(M) symbols with writings in bold Bengali, the gol chowks tied around with “lal” flags that were never taken down after the last rally and those three wheeler pickup trucks (have only seen them in Kolkata) mounted with a loud speaker driving slowly through the residential streets on a Sunday morning were things out of the mundane. Then around the 1998 elections the walls of Kolkata featured a new mural, that of a three petalled flower bearing the tricolour marking the arrival of Trinamool Congress into the Bengal politics. It belonged to Mamata Banerjee who I knew too well as the woman who always seemed really pissed at something or the other every time she was on local news and on national television her strong Bengali accent was borderline hilarious. Even if this was 12 years ago not many could have predicted the scene to change so drastically in a relatively short span of time.

The Marxists rose to power owing to the “poribartan hawa” (air of change) of the 70’s and managed to retain their position long after the wind had changed its course. They survived the fall of the Berlin wall and the collapse of the Soviet Union; however the green fields of Singur and the bloodied villages of Nandigram overwhelmed them ending a 34 year long reign in Bengal. It has been a historic win NOT because it brought about a change in the political party after such a long time (That has been done on several occasions), or because who brought about a change was a woman whose win couldn’t have been predicted a decade ago; but because it marks the end of a system that exercised power over the state for such a long time and raises serious questions on its return to power (the party might but the system would not).The left came into power with promises of land reforms and redistribution of zameen to the common peasants and implemented this policy with marked stubbornness and ineptitude. Foreign investment and industries of the state suffered in the sidelines as the government turned their head away from the cries of a small educated bunch from the urban parts demanding for better jobs and scope for higher education who moved out to other parts of the country in the lookout for greener patches. Not until recently while looking to find a balance between industries and agriculture that would provide the state with the much necessary boost in development the government gave Mamata Banerjee the very platform to make her election campaign from by allocating land for setting up the factory for Tata, losing their support base from both ends.

Mamata Banerjee, riding on the farmland acquisition issue by the Tata Motors factory in the Singur project and- ironically -yet again on the promise of “change”. Over the last few years politicians have ruined the word “change” and probably altered what it means slightly. There emerges a cyclic pattern in its usage over the years and has often proved to be a powerful tool to remove a party in power for a prolonged period of time. And longer is the time in power more is the number scandals, use of ugly politics and short comings in the time of crisis which makes the task of the opposition that much easier, that much irrelevant and more inevitable than historic.

The real tedious work lies ahead. Lets hope the change is for the better, even if relatively.

Oscar Wilde writes...

Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.
A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
All that I desire to point out is the general principle that life imitates art far more than art imitates life.
Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known. Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

Always forgive your enemies – nothing annoys them so much.
An excellent man; he has no enemies; and none of his friends like him.
As long as war is regarded as wicked, it will always have its fascination. When it is looked upon as vulgar, it will cease to be popular.
A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.

Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.
Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to.

Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.

The Rain...and when she came

Yesterday, it rained like no other day. Apart, from the normal social human beings, I particularly don't enjoy the rainy seasons. The very thought of it fills my mind with images of muck, overflowing drainage, wet clothes and flu. All the above and the rest make a rather unpleasant mindset towards this season.

I have never really captured the relation between rains and romance. The sultry wet weather to that of love and its making. Often has made me wonder why do they film lovers in the rain, with dresses (all in white, especially the female lead) singing song without a hiss of the rain. "It's a dream romantic sequence, you fool!, says my friend and I, as usual remain silent.(who the fuck’s dream is that)

But yesterday when it rained, I was not in a great mood. I was in midst of an mobile talk trying to sort out an issue. And then I heard the breeze, grew stronger and the wind came. And suddenly she came. It sounded like the arrival of a thousand chariots galloping on a battle field to conquer and to win. The sound was roaring and deafening. Who is she?(asked myself). And I went to look up to her how she looks. And there I got a glimpse of her, rather glimpses. Under the bright orange street lamp she fell gracefully down almost like falling into some body's wide open arms. As though someone was obstructing her way, she cut through the hard dry earth, made the soil melt and found her way right into the heart of the earth.

She made the kids dance to her tune as she fell in rhythm and rhymes between their tiny fingers and toes. The infant on the other side was overjoyed when she sprinkled herself upon her, wanting her more. I heard a man abuse and cursing her but she roared back voicing her thunder, he fled for his life. I strained my ears to hear her more but was surprised to hear how faint she sounded, as she dripped pass my fingers.

She was the rain... loud, gregarious but at the same time was a soft tiny drop. So tender yet strong. So light yet heavy, so demanding yet obliging. Suddenly a faint breeze rubbed against my face, leaving few drops on my face.Ah! She read my mind and after a long time I smiled. She smiled too knowing that she won a soulless heart! That I got to know the next morning.

Today when I woke, I ran out opened the door wanting to see her again. But was met by my old friend the Sun and his fashionably designed friends blue sky and his out of shape team of clouds."I loved it, I said". "No way", he said. "You never love her, the rain"? and "when did this exactly happen", he asked. And I said,
"Yesterday, the rain...when she came"...

photo courtesy Arpan Bhowmick..

Need to give it a name...(or is it)

There is no way to settle this,
aint no one there to blame.
As obscure thoughts cloud my mind.
Need to give it some sort of a name....or is it

Scared out there ,never looked for it all.
But then ,.....you dazzled me from the start.
Made sure i kept things in check.
Even as the hideous puppets played their part.

Every blunt thought was admired,
Made fun of your shades of pink.
When the dam couldnt hold the flow,
Built an ark which was to sink.

Many a night i found myself with no one beside me,
I turn to you and everytime... things always got bright.
As the ship sailed into the sunsets,
I finally felt just walking was allright.
I thought i understood... I knew we understood,
As the days kept turning into night.

There is no way to settle this,
aint no one there to blame.
Obscure thoughts still cloud my mind,
Need to give it some sort of a name.(or is it)