Songs & Things : The Wrath Of A Penguin

Despite my constant effort, my mind has refused to find any contentment. It is filled with fears of 'whats going to be' & sorrows of 'whats happened'. Still, I have faith, not on any god but on friendship. Friend-the word in itself denotes the savior.
It is rightly said that troubles, never believing in family planning, breeds further troubles. Yet in this time when my mind is engaged in battle within & without, I have faith. If considering faith alone & leaving it aside for a moment, I feel helpless for the first time in my life. Heretofore, the test of time has begun. In all my past life I have begged for necessities of relations & mourned for the dead but never have I felt helpless.
Strange occurrences are common in human life;truth sometimes becoming stranger than fiction, nevertheless, in all situations faith saves & faith on friendship is the noblest;even nobler than faith on Gods.

May my faith & friendship be in harmony.

Its the wrath of penguin which exemplifies the constant troubles of human mind. But eventually, however furious the penguin be, it gets what it deserves. May this law of nature be applied on humans too.

Last chorus of Oedipus - No man can be happy until he is dead.
May the existence not wait for my death, for I am no Oedipus.

The plural lives of singular species

Acta Sanctorum - deeds of the saints - having been exhaled all the exclamation marks that a human can, when I learned something about second life from one of my very close friend. Second life, a new technology that will create a virtual world around us that will absorb everything that surrounds us. The world is changing, or in fact the human species are changing the world. The change is for better or worse - the question that later generation will answer. The constant effort to draw ourselves from reality to virtuality somewhat, on the contrary, draws us to much realer world.
But the question is - where in this ever-changing world humans will find themselves ?
The flesh to flesh conversation is already lost, now we chat. Does the same would be applied to human relations - think of another family in virtual world.
If imagination is allowed freedom, then all my exclamations would be appropriate.
Even if such change is inevitable, anno domini to anno regni - from the year of lord to year of reign - we will be - barba tenus sapientus - wise as far as the beard. Humans will always be humans, no matter where we live
But its still unanswered - how many among ourselves are humans ?
The disfigurement of human identities has already brought us closer to inferior species. Currency becoming the only goal of survival. From dawn to dusk the only act : self charm.
The human faces have become symbol of something lost. & that which is lost can be found, if found, the humans will attain their humanity & not godliness that has been preached since centuries.

Until then, no matter, virtual or real, humans will be humans.

आंखों के मींजने से ,
झड़ने लगे हैं सपने

My recent discovery - Heart cant be broken. Its a muscle & muscle gets teared or cramped but can't be broken.

Songs and Things : I Am That

( songs and things is the title of posts that throws light on my daily life. Why songs and things ? because most recently I have discovered that all the things in our life can be made into songs )





I am that .... that what ? Nothing really special. Its just the best title that I thought for the fiction that I am writing.
Coming back from a week long trip I am realizing that I am lazier. Not any realization of wisdom, of course, I was lazy always.
The painting hovering on the top of this post is Tushar Waghela's. Of all the worthless things that he keeps doing in his life, he is a remarkable artist and following his instincts of doing worthless things he has got a new job these days - of forcing me to write a fiction. Anyway, I was already writing short stories but I have started working on the fiction too.
Talking about life, I am doing nothing really other than watching a TV series late night and getting up likewise in the morning, though its never a morning when I get up, its already noon.

Life is good.

Coming back, for writing this fiction I gave up something. Book reading. Very obviously, I cannot read and write at the same time. Last couple of months, I, very generously, read a lot of books. Toni Morrison, Dorris Lessing, Jhumpa Lahiri, Siddharth Sanghvi, Salman Rushdie, Ronald Laing, Csíkszentmihályi (sorry, copy-pasted, cant even pronounce the name) lingered by the side of my bed these past few days.

Life is really good.

मेरा अहम्

पत्थर जैसा ठोस

मेरा प्रेम

जैसे बहता पानी

लेकिन मैंने सुना भी है और देखा भी

कि पानी में पत्थर घुल जाता है

शायद......

कुछ मैं

कुछ तुम

कुछ ना कुछ

जब भवो पे बैठी हुई नीद

आंखो का रास्ता भूल जाती है

तब कुछ ना कुछ याद आता है

शायद

बहुत कुछ !

Discovering India

While Mr. Rahul Gandhi shares his name with Gautam Buddha's son, here ends all the similarities. For some, being born in the most illustrious family of this country, he is a lucky man. In actual, his life, never his own - belonging to nation, is full of challenges, the biggest of-course is of setting an example. Aware of this fact, he starts Discovring India. Discovering India, whose grounds has been made fertile by his family's sweat & blood.

Just a couple of days before, when his arrival in my tiny state of Chhattisgarh is all set, I am sleepless, for I know that there is a little chance that he will ever see what he must. The tribal region that he is going to visit will be flooded with banners & posters of his own & the real India that he is discovering will be hidden behind them. Yet his itinerary still unknown shows his own desire to unveil the real faces of people who comprise India. He is aware of this fact.

The tribal region that he will visit is one of the most beautiful places in India, yet the survival of natives there is no less than a miracle. For more than two thousand years they have lived in an environment of untouchability, being deprived of even necessary human requirements. They are shudras according to laws of Manu. & today when India glides high into twenty first century they find themselves struck between naxalites & salwa judum (govt. sponsored anti-naxalite campaign). Either side is determined to spill their blood in revenge. For two thousand years they were not allowed into society & now they are not allowed in civilized world.
While Rahul ji will move through them, there will be hope in their eyes. Hope that they always had from his family. Yet with mouth they will not speak but will speak through their eyes. A conversation between them & a man who comes from a family whose members have paid the price with their life for this country. I am hopeful as they are, for I know that all our kismet are linked with him.

In particularly moving passages of Nehru ji's will in which he asks for his ashes to be thrown away from the sky so that his soul remains in the soil of this nation, I found his love for not only this nation but for whole humanity. Years & years after, while his great grandson discovers India, I, for an unknowable reason find satisfaction.
His legacy is safe.

p s :-
Following the anonymous commenter, while hunting for the noesis of relative terminology of shudras, I found that tribals are basically not shudras. But I must make clear that hindu mythology is absolutely silent about the classification of tribals, though they have been very abstractly put in the second varna - kshatriya, they are treated no less then a shudra.
On the whole, I correct myself with thanks to the anonymous commenter.

water color on paper

Songs & Things

Of all my twenty seven years of days & night - I felt another person living within me who most solemnly feeds with me, hears with me, sees with me. Some people call it conscience. Thus not for the sake of absurd humanity but for mine, I kicked him out a few days back. Using the pronoun 'him' makes it sound that my conscience was of male gender, if it was female I wouldn't have shown him the way out.
On the better note, I regained my senses while re-watching 'Annie Hall', Woody Allen discoursing Diane Keaton - 'Life is either miserable or horrible, & you should be thankful that you have a miserable life.' My friend Saurav Shukla glitters in my mind whenever I ask myself which came first - music or misery ? Why him. I haven't seen anyone else in such love with music other than him, he would definitely disagree with my conjoining music with misery. I should ask him this question some time.
On the serious note, I have lost three kgs. Yeah right, I am working out a lot ( I never understood why people don't say 'working in' ). & just putting this news on serious note does not necessarily means that I am not going to loose more. The more the better. On the least I wont be needing a new wardrobe of larger waistline.
On the worrying note, I saw a documentary on global warming last night which enlightened me with the fact that human species will extinct within a century.
On the relaxing note, none of us are going to survive that long, so we need not to worry. Atleast, I don't give a damn. Our ancestors left us nothing but a history of violence & rape of humanity thus the same will be passed on to our predecessors.
On a delightful note, I was winked a week ago by a very pretty girl in swimming pool.
& on a very sad note, since then she pretends as if I doesn't exist. I think she was winking someone else & I just happened to be in the middle of this heavenly phenomenon.
God has really deserted me. Is it vice-versa ?

Self portrait : charcoal on paper...cant say but I look sad...I burnt it later on.
light the candle & the darkness will vanish

These crazy color makers make such color that it doesn't washes off easily. Just this evening, with left over colors, I jumped into my club's swimming pool. Posthumous discovery - water is now a little red.
It was so abso-f**k**g-lutely awesome. At least now all the colors on me is washed.
Holi is over.

On The Festival Of Colors : The Song Of Holi

तन्तु - प्रेरित गात्र हैं हम,

एक पुतले मात्र हैं हम,

इस जगत की नाटिका के -

क्षणिक भंगुर पात्र हैं हम,

इसलिए हर भूमिका में,

रंग भरे हम भूमिजा मे,

बन सके निरपेक्ष,

तो फिर ,

क्या दुआ क्या बद्दुआ है,

लग रहे हैं समय-बाधित,

आप अपने से पराजित,

चलो आज तम तो भगाएं,

रंगों का धुआं उडाये,

चलो आज होली मनाएं

The darkest corner of soul

It was exactly when the thoughts started to bleed & the emotions started to melt, evaporating an uncanny pungent smoke of barbarism - a seven year old boy somewhere near Delhi was burned alive a few days back by some savages. The reason stated behind so far is that boy was asking them to compensate for his cycle that got broken by their car.

If the human life is this cheap, not even worthy enough of the cost of bicycle then the breed of homo sapiens haven't achieved anything in the due course of its two million years evolution. Violence is being enjoyed. The media using it as mantra these days plying the viewers with a eight foot tall Indian man who is wresting in the land of uncle Sam; I am told his name is Khali & he is adding into the nation's prestige.
Paraphrasing in Thoreau's word - 'truth rather than fame & money', it uncovers the veil that humans of this century wears of being civilized. Nevertheless, the definition of civilization is changed, where the cravings of violence is quenched by not only in practice but also in viewing. The rumble is as much enjoyed in witnessing as in acting.
We are descendants of animals & we always are an animal.

On Women's Day

"Your wives are as a soil to be cultivated unto you; so approach your tilth when or how ye will"
(Kuran 2:228)
Ibn Ma`sud reported from the Messenger of Allah who said, "A woman is like a private part (sex organ). When she goes out (walking) the devil casts a glance at her (in lust)."
(Al Hadis, Vol 2, p. 692)

"They [women and Sudras] are debarred ... from being competent students of the Veda" (Taittriya Yajur Veda, quoted in Muir III,p.66)
In childhood a female must be subject to her father, in youth to her husband, when her lord is dead to her sons; a woman must never be independent".
(Laws of Manu, V, 147-8).

Adam's role over Eve: "...thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee." (Genesis 3:16)
"And if a man sell his daughter to be a maidservant, she shall not go out as the menservants do." A father could sell his daughter as a slave. Even though a male slave is automatically given his freedom after 6 years, a female slave remained a slave forever.
(Exodus 21:7)


taunt of Mara to the Theri Soma that no woman could reach "the high ground of the wise" because she has only the "two-finger knowledge (dvangulapaññâ)", an allusion to cooking where the consistency of the cooked rice is tested by pressing it between the fingers.
(Sutta Pitaka)

Digambaras Jains believe that women are inherently himsic (which is best translated as harmful). This comes partly from a belief that menstrual blood kills micro-organisms living in the female body.The killing of the micro-organisms is said to show that a female body is less non-violent

The Marxist theory of no government lacks some basic provisions for the protection of women's rights, for example, without courts of law to enforce divorce property settlements women would have no legal recourse.

Women try hard to appear superficial & thoughtless. The most refined stimulate a kind of impertinence.
( Friedrich Nietzsche )

It is clear, then, that the female's role in birth is the material one, that this is to found in the menstrual emission and that the menstrual emission is an excretion.
(Aristotle, The Generation Of Animals, 727b31-34)



"You know, China is a very poor country," Mao said. "We don't have much. What we have in excess is women. So if you want them we can give a few of those to you, some tens of thousands."
( As said by Chairman Mao Zedong amid a trade discussion in 1973 with US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger ; document released by State Department's historian office)




The woman had to be made inferior so that man could feel at ease, so that his ego could feel that now there is no competition with women at all. Man has been torturing her for thousands of years. No society in the world has accepted her as equal to man. No culture of the past has given the woman the same respect as it gives to the man. On the contrary, they have all tried to force her into a subhuman existence. And the reason why the woman did not revolt against such things is simple: again, the same motherhood.

“The woman should be given her rights to grow in her own uniqueness, and that will enhance the whole society. It will enhance man too because man begins his life in the woman's womb.”

(Osho, The Book of Secrets)

May the women breaks free of all bondages, theories, dogmas & political ideologies & attain the blissfulness of her womanhood.

Talking about blog, the much converesed subject since Aamir Khan himself started in this business & getting over three thousand comment on his every post. For a celebrity like him the number of comments does not matter. There are few blogs around which needs mention in my this post.
One blog that I am great fan of is that of Amit Aishwarya Jogi's which intelligently bears a title of 1/2 freedoms. His writings has capacity to shape up a book. Genuinely genius. Another, Tushar Waghela who converting his professional faith has changed his blog to one which contains all his work, he is an artist. Dr. Saibel Farishta has been persuaded back by me to blogging space after his early retirement from orkut & blog. Fortunately, he has renounced his retirement & is back in both.

One Ms. Dolly from Delhi owns a beautiful blog in which she pens down her poem. Ms Ujala from Pune has scribbled down something in her newly formed blog. More awaits.
But one blog is invisible these days. Ms Rainy Chawla had all the content to to write one of the best blogs around. Sad that she doesn't wants to write. But I can see that she started to move her pen & even started to paint, her blog showing the latest entries. & as the Latin phrase puts - cetera desunt - the rest are missing.

I cant sleep these days. The whole night passes by watching the ceiling. No trace of sleep & lot of thinking. Sometimes I see the morning light trying to pierce into my room from the dark paned window before going to sleep. I feel that I am becoming over ambitious these days. Just dreaming with my eyes open of what I want to be. Its enough to vacate any trace of sleep from my eye-lids. I feel that Alfred Adler's complex theorem (superiority & inferiority) has taken over me.
The most precious thing that I lost in growing up is sleep. I cant even remember how I slept when I was few months old ; nobody does. It seems to be a forbidden story. Something that went past ages ago.
I should be living what I am right now instead of thinking of what I am going to be.

'I should be writing a book'- this thought lingered my mind from couple of years. I decide to make it happen now. Yes, I have started writing a book, a collection of short stories. Until then, I have decided not to read any more books, not for the risk of influence as I have never been influenced by any book or person. Just basically for, that either I read or I write.
The time seems to have come for a book to take shape. The title is yet undecided.

May the light of heaven,
Always fall on your head,
May you be true,
Being righteous instead,
May you seek the joy of joys,
& be deaf to whoever annoys,
May you be what you are to be,
Like the Moon shining on the sea,
May you never walk,
On the others chalk,
For it is always humane
To create one’s own way,
& never be afraid,
for the price to pay,

May when you when you see a flower,
May when you feel the first monsoon shower,
May when you see the sky with stars,
May when you see the full moon,
& the sunlit afternoon,
May when smell the morning breeze,
& the infant sun draws you to a geez,
May when your eyes meet the roses,
& the skyline where this earth closes,
May when you lie on grass,
May when you see the evening sky like brass,

You become one with them all,
& may you always smile,
& never be unplayful,
May you can dance & jump like an elf

May for the whole life,
You can celebrate yourself

इनसे बनता है मेरा भारत