Song of the soul...

In the depth of my soul there is
A wordless song - a song that lives
In the seed of my heart.
It refuses to melt with ink on
Parchment; it engulfs my affection
In a transparent cloak and flows,
But not upon my lips.

How can I sigh it?
I fear it may
Mingle with earthly ether;
To whom shall I sing it? It dwells
In the house of my soul, in fear of
Harsh ears.

When I look into my inner eyes
I see the shadow of its shadow;
When I touch my fingertips
I feel its vibrations.

The deeds of my hands heed its
Presence as a lake must reflect
The glittering stars; my tears
Reveal it, as bright drops of dew
Reveal the secret of a withering rose.

It is a song composed by contemplation,
And published by silence,
And shunned by clamor,
And folded by truth,
And repeated by dreams,
And understood by love,
And hidden by awakening,
And sung by the soul.

It is the song of love;
What Cain or Esau could sing it?

It is more fragrant than jasmine;
What voice could enslave it?

It is heartbound, as a virgin’s secret;
What string could quiver it?

Who dares unite the roar of the sea
And the singing of the nightingale?

Who dares compare the shrieking tempest
To the sigh of an infant?

Who dares speak aloud the words
Intended for the heart to speak?

What human dares sing in voice
The song of God?

- Khalil Gibran

Sensory association.

Sounds like a neurological term, innit?Well, don't worry, I won't bore you more than usual.I'm totally blanked out right now and hence will apologise in advance for any unintended grammatical or factual errors.This idea about writing how I remember things based on smells and sounds occurred to me last evening when I sprayed on my Nike and instantly remembered someone.I took this timepass test on blogthings.com which gave me the result that I appreciate and understand sounds much better than other senses.Smell came in a close second.Ironically I suffer from sinusitis in cold temperatures leaving my nose and ears blocked.Fascinating, I know.Anyway, leaving gooey matters behind, I discovered that the results were quite accurate.I usually tend to associate certain songs to certain people, certain smells to certain periods of my life.It's not that uncommon, I know.But just the idea of how a melody can transport you back in time or how a whiff of a familiar fragrance can cause pangs of lust, pain or nostalgia is so, forgive me for the blunt delivery, so poetic.The thought of an expression of a memory in wordless subtlety is just too beautiful.Inexplicably, the smell of Sunsilk black shampoo transports me to my 10th std. school days, the smell of clinic plus to summer holidays as a kid, the smell of rain always reminds me of him and that trip to Dharwad, the sound of the Santana song 'Smooth' reminds me of this guy I had a crush on(who turned out to be phenomenally dumb by the way) and at present, the song 'Hazaaro khwaishein aisi...' reminds me of this person who is kinda like my current muse :).If the said person is reading this, feel flattered and do not forget to thank me later.Every single day turns out to give me excuses to say "Do you remember...?" or smiling to myself when I'm alone in the remembrances.Oh, by the way, my handwriting slants towards the left(my brother terms my handwriting as the 'most unscientific handwriting he ever lay his eyes upon') which supposedly implies that I live in the past or think about it way too much.I couldn't agree more.
So if you have special sounds, sights or tastes, please go ahead and share.Maybe they'll help me remember you :)

Untitled

One single line has been repeating in my mind over and over again, like a record stuck on a gramophone.What kind of a sick, sadistic bastard is God?I know, I'm not supposed to swear or whatever shit people expect, but I don't think anyone could have escaped this thought if they went through the situation that I did today.I was feeling low the entire morning actually, I don't know the reason(as always!) and I was mentally very exhausted.But then, this happened, which had the potential to move me to tears scarily soon and to push me into extreme rage against this blaring injustice.My cousin, Disha, is ill.As I have mentioned in an earlier post, she has a neurological disorder which allows her no form of normal expression.The details are too harsh to be written about again.She is admitted right now with something undiagnosed, yet.She has a temperature of 103F and has been shivering, chills running through her now skin-and-bones body with a drip attached to her which looks painful.And she can't even tell what she feels.I stood there as my aunt(Disha's mother) had dozed off even as she held Disha's hand to comfort her convulsions.No amount of words can explain the pain as you watch a 13 year old child screaming in agony.And all you can do is just avert your gaze or hold her hand.I was totally choked with emotions as my mind went numb.I hid my face and cried silently.My aunt just held Disha's hand with indifference.Yes, that's indifference for you.When sorrow's boundaries have been transcended and philosophy can go to the crapper for all I care, when a mother holds her child's hand with no feeling expressed on her prematurely old face, believe me, nothing is sadder, nothing puts perspective more into place.People talk about how we have to accept the 'will of God', how religion will redeem us and how we must be thankful for whatever we have.Yes, I have read about it and that was my belief too.But now, as I watched this emotionally indescribable scene enacted by the people dear to me, supposedly scripted and directed by the 'puppet master', all that changed.What fault is so grave that a child this beautiful deserves to be punished for?What is my aunt's fault that she has to witness this mutely?Who decides what?I couldn't bear to stand in the room.The smell of the hospital disinfectant made me nauseous and as angry thoughts swirled in my numb head, I stood outside in the corridor.I watched this couple walking out of another ward.Soundlessly, their hands found each others' and they held them tenderly.It made me smile.The hope and romance that died in me a few minutes ago awakened a tad bit again as I watched them walk towards a God's idol and join their hands in prayer.It made me realise that maybe, maybe we are all moving towards nothingness.The big zero.Mahashunya.Maybe the shit God gives people, the agonies we face is cancelled out with the hope and love around and we come to nought, every single day.I guess it's a Buddhist concept, I've heard of it before.And today's incident made me want to believe in that.
I know that me writing about this in no way relieves Disha's pain or bring back the life in my aunt's empty eyes.But I observe, and write yet again.Pray for Disha's speedy recovery.

10 things you probably didn't know about me.

1)I have an artificial tooth.(Front tooth)

2)I am a huge fan of Dexter's laboratory.

3)I actually loved Dhoom 2 the first time I watched it.(Second day, second show if I'm not wrong.)

4)I am addicted to caffeine.

5)I have a huge crush on Rachel Green(Jennifer Aniston's character) from 'Friends' season 1 and 2.Man, those legs!:P

6)I'm a little bi-curious.(I guess anyone can guess that after the above mentioned point!)

7)I cannot wait to have kids and raise them.

8)My ultimate dream is to direct a movie based on my school days and call it 'Doughnuts of Durga bakery'.

9)My mind is sexier than Angelina Jolie's body.

10)I'm not as selfish and self obsessed as I seem to be.

P.S-If you are reading it and you already know all these points, then you're either Kriti or Kannika.

Adios. 

Happy Deepavali!

Diwali or Deepavali is my favourite festival of the year.I come from a very conservative and traditional Hindu, Brahmin family so festivals are a one too many in my house.Almost every alternate day demands a big lunch and endless vermilion applications.Coconut breakings, garland offerings, aartis, poojas, homas and havanas are a routine thing.But Deepavali, despite following the same scheme of events is very refreshing and different.

 As a kid, it was definitely the best festival because all my cousins came over to my house and we had quite a 'blast'(forgive the pun!).The endless exchange of different versions of the same memory between my aunts, the going out with appa and uncles to buy firecrackers, late night gossip, ajji's laddoos, ajja's stories...it was like an alternate universe.We bought new clothes the previous day despite knowing that the market place would be swarming with last minute buyers.It never occurred to us that we could buy our Diwali stuff in advance.We'd be tired walking around the market and crib about our aching legs till we got sent to bed with stern warnings.The next morning, on Narak Chaturdashi was the aarti.We'd wake up as early as possible, usually around 5 30am, dress up in our brand new clothes, wear bangles(which we hated on the other days of the year) and sit in line with our brothers and uncles for the aarti.Our mothers performed the aarti, sang the same aarti song every year as we hummed along.They'd apply a little oil(a fragrant one.This point too made Diwali an exciting thing for us.) on our hair with a gold ring.Then we'd bow to God and our elders.We'd accept the prasad and then we'd all walk to the nearest Hanuman temple.After visiting the temple, our mothers would oil us and give us a nice, hot bath.The Deepavali lunch was always heavy.Payasa(sweetened porridge), kosambri(salad),chutney,chitranna(lemon rice), my ajji prepared all varieties of delicacies on a coal stove.I can still remember the taste of the lunch just by reminiscing about it.The heavy lunch was followed by ice cream bought from the street hawker.My brother would finish his off quickly and beg for a bite from mine.We'd fight over it, I'd usually end up crying.He did it every year though, just so he could tease me.A siesta ensued after the dessert.Evenings were again dedicated to dressing up(for the girls) and firecrackers(for the guys).We'd block our ears and close our eyes as my brothers lit patakha on patakha(or as we call it, patakshi).In the end, we burst firecrackers too, with our mothers' warnings about fire safety ringing in our ears.This went on till almost 10 in the night after which the younger siblings got to light a special rocket or a special flower pot under the careful supervision of an elder.We'd all be exhilirated with the gorgeous display of colours and fire and go to sleep late in the night, still thinking about the evening.

It's quite different now.My cousins don't come over.They celebrate the festival in their own homes.My brother works in Bangalore, he cannot get off work for too many days.The few days he is here, he spends half his time catching up with old friends.Ajji wasn't in town this year, so amma cooked instead.Amma cooks well too but not in ajji's league.Diwali has been a quiet festival for the past seven years because I banned firecrackers at my place.Just the traditional lighting of the diyas and we're done with the display.Diwali shopping was low key too.I wasn't interested in clothes this year.Yet, the aarti was something I looked forward to, I lit the diyas at twilight and wished for everyone's well being.The chill in the air was the same on Diwali morning as it was ten years ago.The mist that hung was a little smoggier though.I made quite a few bucks.In the end, it was a very normal festival.The charm of it lay in the remembrances this time...

I know two stories that relate to Diwali.One being the return of Lord Rama and Goddess Sita to Ayodhya from Lanka.And the other one tells us how Lord Krishna defeated the demon Narakasura. Whatever may be the reason for celebration, Diwali is by far the most significant and symbolic festival.The whole concept of lighting lamps to symbolise the light engulfing darkness, knowledge winning over ignorance is very enlightening(again, unintended!).I hope people realise, at least by next year, how bad firecrackers are for the environment and do away with them entirely.Wishful thinking na?I don't know why we have to maim nature on every occasion, in the name of God.Anyway, without further digression, my favourite festival of the year went really well.Here's wishing you a very Happy Deepavali.I sincerely hope all the festive greetings come true.Have fun!:)

If you forget me...

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

- By: Pablo Neruda

My ephemeral reverie...

I wake up and I'm still in my dream.It feels like my subconscious is a little relaxed and allows me a little more time in my morning dream.It won't take a genius to guess that it's your afterglow.The hangover, as my friends term it.Your smile is wicked, has anyone ever mentioned that?You smile, like you know my secret, like you've caught my mischief, you smile with ulterior motives.Your smile makes me smile, the sparkle in your eyes searches for the same in my eyes.Everytime I see you, my legs feel weak, I feel the need to sit next to you, your arm around mine, whispering your first name in your ear and blushing at the sweet nothings you say.Is it real?I pinch myself and even though I feel the sting, some part of me knows this is surreal.I'll wake up any minute now, I need to live every moment of this reality masquerading as a dream or is it a dream trying to be real?
I want to thaw at your exterior and reach out to the person you're inside.I want to laugh at your childlike charm and the innocent humour, know the bad things you did, the good things you didn't,your worst nightmare, your sweetest memory, your favourite word, your overwhelming moment.I need to know you for real, even as the very word is fast losing it's meaning in my dreamy mind.
We fit together, perfectly.Not a little gap in our symmetry, no crevice to misguide an intention, no faulty terrain to doubt an expression.I complement you, you complement me.We can be as contradictory as dreams and reality but at one instant, when a dream seems real or as reality transcends the borders of imagination, we are that instant in our sleepy lives.Teach me your heart and learn my thoughts, we've got very little time.I'll wake up any day, any minute now.Prolong my dream, a little further.Hold me in my fantasy transition.My ephemeral reverie, stay with me, let me dream, just a little longer...