happy in hindsight

i have come to the conclusion that most of us are happy in hindsight. right now, this second, this moment in time i am unhappy. but ten years later when i remember this moment i will be so full of nostalgia that i will go all awwwww about it.

when i look back i airbrush the awkwardness, the pain, the complete non belonging and just see the good. or may be it is the other way round, right now, i am so focused on the bad, that i fail to see the good.

whatever the mechanism the result is the same - this adolescent belief that you were happy way back when.

you were never happy. happiness is a trait of a particular kind of mind and if you are not the kind of person who is happy right now, as it is, in this moment, then i will bet my bottom dollar that you were not happy ten years back in that moment, whatever it was and whatever you have made it up to be in your head now.

some of us, are just forever doomed, to be happy - only in hindsight.

forgiveness is inevitable

the following is in response to those two movies i saw recently - the women and sex and the city.

i believe that if you live long enough forgiveness is inevitable.

barring a few crimes i do not want to think, imagine or talk about - rape, murder, extreme physical torture - all others you eventually have to forgive and let go.

if a friend does something to completely shake your trust, what can you do? you can live in your indignation and walk around wounded, high headed, full of misgivings. but what more? if she is sorry for it, what else can she do now? she can kill herself and she still cannot take it back, it has been done cannot be undone. after a reasonable period of time, you have no other choice, you have to forgive her and completely let it go.

when i think about it, it applies to almost everything one person can do to another - someone ruins your favorite dress, is extremely rude to you, breaks a promise, or worse - as long as they are not sorry, fine, you go around yelling, screaming and playing the victim, but once they apologize - you are done. the way i see it, you only have two choices now. a) you forgive them and cut them off from your life, b) you forgive them and give them another chance. either ways if you do not forgive them , you will end up doing something far worse, you will end up turning yourself in to a bitter person. enh. won't be worth it in the end. and you will have only yourself to blame.

i don't know what that is. ironic, unfortunate, or just plain ridiculous.it is almost as if there is no such thing as free will, is there?

at the end of the day, when the dust settles, and all has been said and done - forgiveness is inevitable.

hum tum se juda ho ke

हम तुम से जुदा हो के,
मर जायेंगे रो रो के

झूठ है जी । बिलकुल मिथ्या है, गप्प है, कपोल कल्पना है। कोई ना मरता किसी से जुदा हो के । मैंने तो न देखा जी ऐसा नजारा ।

तो अब आप कहोगे की फिर क्यों चुना है यह गाना songs i like की category में ?तो मैं कहूँगी की फिर क्या हुआ ? अगर खुशी के आंसू हो सकतें हैं, तो थोडी देर के लिए झूठ मूठ की बात पसंद भी तो आ सकती है | अब आप कहोगे की ये क्या logic हुआ? चलो फिर, पसंद इसलिए है कि इस गाने में एक पंक्ति आती है, which happens to be a very powerful combination of words.

एक मौज किनारे से
मिलने को तरसती है

एक तस्वीर सी नही बनती? कि दूर समंदर के बीचों बीच, एक लहर है, जो बाहर आना चाहती है। उस अथाह सागर के बोझ तले दबी हुई - कैद । उसकी सांसो में समुद्र हिलता है। उसकी विकलता पर जहाज़ तैरते हैं। उसकी वेदना वाश्प बन कर उड़ती है - जिससे जल चक्र चलता है। वो धरती के गर्भ से ऊर्जा ले कर जल्जन्तुओं को पहुंचाती है, और जब वो खर्च हो कर सतह तक पहुँचती है तो उसकी आह बदल बन कर उठती है। चांदनी रात में वो जब रुक कर अपने साहिल को देखती है तो लोग समझते हैं कि समुद्र ज्वार पर है।

तो अब आप कहोगे कि लो भइया, बेगानी सादी में अब्दुल्लाह दीवाना। किसी और के तकलीफ पर तुम काहें कविता कर रही हो? तो मैं कहूँगी कि, कि,....

तो मैं कहूँगी कि भाई तुम सवाल बहुत पूछते हो। चुप चाप रिक्से चलाओ अपना। देर हो रही है हमें। चबर चबर लगा रख्खी है। हुंह ।

Aasmaan

I love the sky, in all its facets and shades and seasons. no matter where i am, in unknown cities, alone, cold, and lost, i can always look at the sky and find a piece of home. the sun,the clouds, the moon, the stars are friends who stay by my side, day in day out.

I started writing this poem in early 1999, and just left it there, and then i picked it up in late 2007. i did not really write a lot in this time period. just... well... i guess my muse left me :)

anyways,

here is the poem:

लाल, पीला, नीला,
सिंदूरी,
कभी कथ्थई आसमान

वो बादलों का घर
वो प्यार का मंज़र
एक खिड़की के कोने में सिमटा
खुला आसमान

धुएँ से भरा
मट्टी से सना
पिघलने को खड़ा
हो दर्द का कोई किला आसमान

सावन में घिरिआये
जेठ में पिघलाए
अब कह दूँ तो चिढ जाए
कुछ और आंखों में चुभ जाए
इक खट्टा
पीला आसमान

वो तेरी याद का आसमान
वो मेरी आस का आसमान
इक गीला
गहरा नीला आसमान

मेरे सपनों के दिए
अंधेरों में लिए
जगता है रात भर
इक चमकीला आसमान

है वही तारों की डगर
वही चन्दा के नगर
अलग
लगता है मगर
इक सजीला
मेरे देस का आसमान

the magic of storytelling

stories are these amazing creations that can make you buy anything.

if someone sat in front of you and told you of this boy who could make a broomstick fly, dish out a patronus strong enough to deflect an army of dementors and still worry about his O.W.L's you would more than likely not believe them.

but the right set of words can do the trick. if told properly you might be able to convince your self of the possibility of the existence of a place some where that housed a school for witches and wizards, of a train that leaves from a station you can only get to by walking through a wall and of a little boy who for some reason survived a deadly curse. who knows, it could be slightly true, or may be you like it so well, you wish it were true.

that is the magic of story telling. it plays a trick on your mind and your brain becomes the story teller's accomplice, helping her, covering up for her flaws, and filling in the gaps. your brain dismisses rational doubts and tells you to not worry about the small stuff, it's just a story - it tells you. you play along, and before you know it, the lines have blurred. you have fallen for it. you like these people now, you are worried sick for the hobbits, you are rooting for aragaon, and you can't wait to find out just how the ring is going to get to the fires of mordor. its not just a story. it stopped being that a long while back, it has become a part of you now. that is the magic of story telling.

written words, leave the plane of the paper, like a dreamcatcher - throwing out these shimmering silvery blue silken threads that float around the room, intertwining and weaving a fabric, a liquid wrapping around your head, invisible, light, and yet so real. an entire world takes shape, hills rise and fall, centuries fuse to a messy blob and a single moment emerges in crystal clarity. time stops, reason takes a back seat, and you willingly fall in to the black hole of someone's imagination. you cry, you laugh, you fall in love, you believe as if on cue. for those few hours, you transcend, you let go, and allow her to lead you, where ever she desires. that is the magic of storytelling.

i want to write a story like that. a story that would take you to a whole other dimension

of a miracle that would make you believe in god, and yet fall in love with the devil.

of a love so grand it would make you want to die, and be born again, and again, and again.

of the earth maiden and her sky lover. who for eons walked together in each other's embrace, his weight would have crushed all traces of life on her, so he hovers, forever close, forever apart.

as the wind blows on her face, she smiles and turns to look at him, her gaze of such porous intensity, it breaks his heart, and his tears fall, and the people call them raindrops.

he bends to kiss her and a part of his soul, stays upon her; as she withdraws a sigh escapes her lips, it clouds his eyes and fills up his lungs, and the people call it the mist.

he extends his hand to touch her skin, his fingers walk the length of her face, her cheeks, her nose, her open lips, and .... okay as i said, am going to write it, have not written it yet :) . eventually. some day. hopefully.

sanson ki mala

last couple of days i have been listening to this nusrat fateh ali song non stop.

saanson ki mala pe simroon main pee ka naam
apne man ki main jaanoon
aur pee ke man ki raam

:)

hmm...

goes without saying how masterfully it has been sung, and also that i get the theory too, of both those lines.

you would say it is easier said than done, this business of simroing (if there is such a word) of someone's name, but those who do, will tell you that it is actually the most natural thing for them. this is what comes to them on its own and it would in fact be a veritable pain to be asked to stop. ab kahan diljale ko sukoon chahiye? zunoon ke liye, bas, zunoon chahiye.

as to the second line, well, i get that too. that is how things need to be, what other people do, want, think, is their problem in life. it is between them and their god, none of your doggone business. you do what you have to do. simple. apne man ki main janoon aur pi ke man ki ram. if more of us could adopt this philosophy, there would be so much more peace around here.

ek ka sajan mandir me,
ek ka preetam masjid me
aur main? :D
sanson ki mala pe simrun main pee ka naam


i like this part the best

preetam ka kuch dosh nahi hai,
wo to hai nirdosh
apne aap se baatein ker ke ho gayi mein badnaam

hahaha, chalo, ye bhi theek hai.

and this last one too
prem ki maala japte japte aap bani mein shayaam

right! i guess that is a concept that bothers me, i have trouble getting that, i like the sound of it though, it sounds right. i need to think about it more i guess, or find someone who will explain it to me, one of the two.

ajeeb ajeeb se gaane

I met someone, no silly, not that that kind of a someone, that I met long long long back.

Anyways, I met someone who actually knew a lot of the ajeeb, songs, I thought only I carried around in my head. we were playing antakshari (yes! I know! but we were driving back late at night after having seen a horrible movie, we needed something to keep us awake), and it was my turn to sing with 'm', hesitantly asked her if she knew this song may se meena se na saaki se, dil behlta hai mera, aapke aa jaane se.....
Guess what?
She did?
We were both surprised how much of the stupid song we actually knew.... wow! and we even knew that this was a Govinda Neelam song! see, I did not think such people existed any more, I am very glad to know that I am not alone.

And then we quizzed each other on our knowledge of other ghatiya songs, she passed my test.

She remembered - naa jaane kyon main beqarar, dil me liye dard-e-intezaar, baitha hoon us raah me, jo teri manzil nahi.....

Kindered spirits indeed.

Only she actually has a sense of music. ahhhhhhhh.... where was I when god was distributing this sense of music?

zaroor bahar khadi rickshe waale se jhagda kar rahi hongi, paanch rupaye thode na lagte hain bhaiya, pagal samjhe ho kya....

the trouble with creation

let's start with an analogy.

suppose i put in a lot of effort and make kheer for my husband, and he walks in, wrinkles his nose, and goes, umm... i don't like meetha too much. ( he does that :) , speaking from experience ) how do you think that makes me feel? disappointed. of course.

and then a friend comes in and she goes, kheer, i love kheer. so i serve her the kheer, she relishes it, praises it. how do you think that makes me feel? of course i am glad someone is enjoying it. i wanted to hear those words, but this is not the person i wanted to hear those words from. :|

you know what i am saying?

oh and before you get me wrong, let me put this in writing, i love, capital L, Love, cooking and having friends over, making lots of food for people and watching them enjoy it, gives me this very "mom"ish satisfaction. unfortunately, cooking and feeding people is the only means i now have of showing people i care for them. when my husband is upset i cook him something nice to cheer him up, when he is happy, i again cook something nice, to celebrate. that's all i know how to do anymore. but i digress, i was talking about something else.

going back to the analogy, the question i am asking is: if i create something for someone in particular, and that person does not care much for it, does it give me any satisfaction to see someone else appreciate it?

its a consolation. did not all go to waste. but that is just what it is. a consolation. isn't it?

sometimes i wonder, that these poems, and songs, and stories that i love so much, that mean so much to me, that i cannnot get over, you see, they were not written for me. the poet wrote them for someone else, and i can be a fan all i want, but does he really care for my admiration?

did he get it from the intended target? and if he did not, how does he feel? was it all a big waste of time for him? i wonder.

then again, what do we care how he feels?

a beautiful poem was written, it is there for eternity, for the world to enjoy, take delight in, savour at its own pace, does the poet's personal satisfaction really factor in to this equation?

is the creation almost independent of the creator's ulterior motives?

is it fair for the creator to dictate his terms as to how and who is allowed to experience this creation?

is there any such legitimate claim to stake?
just wondering.

a disgusting sense of humor

the love guru, this movie is on tv all the time these days, and i cannot watch it.

i can see twelve year olds giggling about this stuff, i teach grade nines i know the way they think, but i fail to understand how grown men can put in so much effort to write, setup and make such a movie. why? is it really that funny to say these words, this double entendre, this innuendo? see, i don't get it.

i don't get this crass, really gross, disgusting sense of humor. what is the big deal about certain bodily functions - vomit, bowel moments, or certain body parts - that some people find so funny? seriously, we all have them. get over it. grow up already.

chotti si ye duniya

chotti si ye duniya pehchane raasten hain
tum kabhi to miloge
kahin to miloge
to poochenge haal.

i do not like this kishore kumar song because i agree with it, i like it because i so very badly want to agree with it, i want to believe that this is true, i do.

it is like that guy richard bach says meeting again, after moments or life times is only certain, for those who are friends.

hmm... is it from illusions P? gosh, i cannot believe you have made me read so much of richard bach! and for the record, this is her favourite bach quote, and that other one too what the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly. she never told me which one she likes better. there, another one of life's mysteries i do not know. :)

personally, i am a jonathan livingston seagull kind of a gal, from wing tip to wing tip, one great gull. :)

its getting cold

fall officially arrived on the 22nd of september 2008 at 11:04 EST.

why do i have this certifiably junk information in my head? good question. you are not going to be happy with the answer. deep breath.

well, for what it is worth, i tried to ignore it, i insisted on wearing open toed shoes, and walking around in my skirts. but apparently mother nature does not care for my approval. winter is here, whether i like it or not.

and even i cannot exist in denial any more. there has been a layer of frost on the grass these past few mornings, the tree in my front yard has lost all its leaves, and my car windows are iced.

right! i am depressed.

i need something to cheer me up.

good thing i know just what to do. plan a nice diwali dinner. :D see that will cheer you up.

that is exactly why human beings conjured up festivals. when you have met your basic needs, when you have taken care of life's necessities and things start getting to you, you need something to keep you going from season to season. what else are you going to wait for, look up to? life can get monotonous and boring in no time, the celebrations - Halloween, thanksgiving, diwali, Christmas - well, they keep us occupied, distracted, too busy to look at the real state of affairs. because that, quite frankly is depressing.

sorry if i it appears that i think there is a conspiracy behind all of this. i do not. there is a difference in being duped and in creating a self deceptive ruse for your own amusement. i fall in the later category. i know exactly what i am doing. these little little small things, these decorations, these preparations, this forced excitement, i know exactly the purpose they serve. they are not an end. they are the means to an end, and very dependable tools at that. i know what i am doing.

gosh, do i sound like an arrogant little blank. tch. deep sigh. it's just that i have a huge, and i mean huge, you can barely contemplate how huge, a circle of things i do NOT know, and just this very small, tiny, imperceptible circle of things i DO know. now if i start pretending, i do not know what i actually do, where will that leave me? i have so little. so this, i know, and i am sticking by it.

so i know, that the people out there who have got real work to do, do not worry about the change of seasons. you see they got real problems, real issues to deal with, they ain't gonna go round fillin their eads up with stuff they can't do nothing bout. shaking my head. you ask them, chances are a) they could not care less about fall, or halloween, or diwali, or b) they will tell you they actually like the winter. right. no one likes to shovel snow, but you can delude yourself in to accepting it only if you got bigger fish to fry. that's it. other wise, that is your entire life. that's all you gonna bitch and moan about. the snow in your drive way!! excuse my french.

so. it is with this nugget of self knowledge, that i am now, going to go and sulk about the oncoming winter. and go and busy myself up in diwali and halloween and christmas. actually i am going to skip halloween, too close to diwali, don't want to be ODing on this stuff :) what did i tell you, i know what i am doing.

:)

oh and happy diwali to you too.

payal ki jhankar

i was listening to this song, and there was a line
mujhe pagal kar de yaar
teri payal ki jhankaar

so i want to ask, do you know anyone, or if you are a guy then, to you yourself, has it ever happened that the sound of someone's payal made any sort of impact on you? not even a huge one, but did you ever, even slightly, for a while find it endearing?

most songs and poems seem to talk of it, but in real life, i think people find that payal sound irritating, don't they? most guys i know would a) not notice it or b) go like ye kya shor macha rakha hai?

so am wondering if the songs are out of sync with reality or there is something to the myth?

मुझे पागल कर दे यार, ये उल्टे सीधे सवाल.....

Manthra Karm

So there is this background story in Ramayan, that manthra provoked kaikai to send Ramji away in order to save his life.Long back when Dashrath was a young man, he shot a "shabdbhedi baan" and accidentally shot Sravana Kumar while he was trying to fill water for his blind parents. When Dasharath realized his mistake he apologized to Saravana kumar's parents but they could not be consoled and gave him a 'shraap' that may you die of putraviyog just as we are. Now, Manthra knew of this shraap, she knew that Ram was Dasharath's favourite son, so she made up a scheme to send Ram away from Dasharath so that the conditions of the shraap might be met without Ram dying. I have no idea if this is true or not, for that matter i have no idea if the entire Ramayan is true or not, but .... i find this such a poetic story. She earned the hatred, scorn and ridicule of history to save Ram. the one who must be thanked is abused, disgraced and ostracized. Ironic. So when someone does something really mean to me, for a second i wonder.... is that "Manthra karam"? Are they doing this for my good?

Not everyone can do that though. We all live so much in the eyes of other people that we rarely ever live on our own. I am not saying everybody is like that, most of us are though. If i can sing the sweetest song, write the prettiest poem, paint the nicest picture can I live long without sharing that with anyone. For most of us, our talent, ability, and skill seem to acquire meaning through the appreciation of others.We need credit, appreciation or at least some acknowledgment of our efforts and it is in that light that i find this story especially poignant.

brothers and sisters

i am watching brothers and sisters right now and every time i watch this show it makes me want to have a whole lot of kids, a huge bunch of them, six or seven at least.

i know, it is easier said than done, it is a huge responsibility - bringing kids in to this world, raising them right, empowering them to be all that they can be. it is the work of a lifetime. it is not to be undertaken in jest. i know that.

all the same - just the thought of all those kids grown up, coming home from university, sitting around the dining table having these vivid discussions (okay more like bitter arguments) gives me this warm and fuzzy feeling all over. I would love to be the mom, in the middle, mediating those debates, trying to keep them civil, giving up and joining them, adding my own two cents, being completely ignored or getting talked back to - with all due respect of course - see, i am already smiling. hmm... i would have loved that.

vo waqt bhi dekha

i do not know who wrote this, where it comes from or if it is a part of a bigger poem, but it has stayed with me forever, for as long as i can remember.

vo waqt bhi dekha taareekh ki ghadiyon ne
lamhon ne khata ki thi
sadiyon ne saza paayee

those moments when you take some decisions and then, you live to regret them.

coffee

i just found this nice little italian bakery near our home, i can walk to it in good weather. they have rows of dessert after sinful dessert, and the best cappuccino i have had in - almost ever.

now i have been trying very hard to get rid of my sweet tooth for a while there, and this is not helping, but i keep telling myself every once in a while is not a problem. right? and if i just go for a cappuccino then i am safe. right?

oh who cares, i can't wait for the morning, they open at eight. :D

lose something everyday

Nice poem. Again that false bravado thing, nah... i don't care, it doesn't bother me, as i said earlier somewhere it can be endearing if done right, too much and you just look like an idiot in denial.

wait, i have actually even liked idiots in denial. wonder why? oh, i know. coz on occasion i have been both of those - a complete idiot and in complete denial. :D

ONE ART by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.


I like this part especially:
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

–Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

dil ki vaadi me

I really like this poem narrated by yash chopra in Veer Zaara, I actually like his taste in poems usually so this is no exception...

its a pretty poem and i love it even more as Mr. Chopra's narration, there is something very rustic and earthy about his voice and diction. lovely.

एक दिन
सवेरे सवेरे
सुरमई से अंधेरे की चादर उत्तारे
एक परबत के तकिये से
सूरज ने सर जो उठाया
तो देखा
दिल की वादी में
चाहत का मौसम है
और यादों की डालियों पर
अनगिनत
बीते लम्हों की कलीयाँ
महकने लगीं हैं।

and then something.... i forget...

to..

हाँ वही जिंदगी,
जिसके दामन में कोई मोहब्बत भी है
कोई हसरत भी है
पास आना भी है
दूर जाना भी है
और ये अहसास है
की वक्त
एक झरने सा
बहता हुआ
चला जा रहा है
ये कहता हुआ
की
दिल की वादी में
चाहत का मौसम है
और यादों की डालियों पर
अनगिनत
बीते लम्हों की कलीयाँ महकने लगीं हैं।

want and need

it has been many many years since i figured out that i want is no argument, i need is no argument.

you can want something all you want and that is no reason why should get it. you can need something to death and that is no reason why it should be given to you.

needing to be cured of cancer, wanting someone to love you, needing that job....

and your point is?

:) exactly... bad arguments.

mind over matter

i was trying to put up some decorations this morning, and as i stood on this step stool, i felt queasy. which does not make a lot of sense. when i can stand on flat ground on just my two feet and not falter, why not on a wide enough step stool?

as i get higher, why do i start worrying about balance and wish to be closer to a wall, to hold on or something. i still only need that much space to stand, i know how to stand on two feet without holding anything, but just being high up in the middle of the room ... does something to my mind, it starts playing tricks on me, my muscles twitch, my heart rate goes up, i sweat more, i am all over the place. i start panicking for no good reason.

it is one of those reverse mind over matter problems. there is no physical threat, but my mind has created one, and now my body is reacting to it. if i can calm my self down, i should theoretically be able to stand on that stool for a very very long time, limited only by my stamina. but in practice i cannot, i can barely make it past a couple of minutes.

it is ridiculous. so i am standing there having a virtual argument with myself, while wondering, how do you argue with your own brain, how do you reason with the very seat of reason, would it even be a fair match?