Ranjish hi sahi......
Yes..Those who cant grasp the meaning of Ranjish please google.Faraz's ghazal so superbly renditioned by the great maestro Mehdi Hassan is playing over and over in my head.I guess its time, isnt it?
We have many terms for that "feeling".Joy,ecstasy,happiness?As feelings usually are, we really cant describe them.You know which feeling I am talking about!To put it simply, imagine what you feel when you meet the one long lost!That sudden rush of blood, the elevated heart rate and a spring in your step.I really cant remember the last time I felt like that.
I guess its my silent grief talking.The time is coming.The final countdown.Life as it was will never..oops I never say never!:D,well it wont be whole again.Those final blips on the radar that I call my heart, are well, weakening.They are going to disappear altogether.Hence Ranjish hi sahi...
Why the Ranjish?Am I jealous?Those who know better take that very thing for granted when it comes to the lives of those they love and have the right to interfere in.For the greater good?Ravings of a drunken man?Will come to his senses?What sense?When its the very essence that will go away.
And What do I carry with me?incomplete memories?torture of a lifetime?always wondering of what could have been?Cannot underestimate the power of memories..Complete memories.THey are joyful partners for a lifetime.What do I hold? A speck of sand in an icy desert?Bloody useless! Yet its them, yes those who are blissfully unaware of what could have been who perpetrate this..this Ranjish!
This Ranjish is needed..The unknown beckons.A time when the unknown held promise but back then, there were no blips, the range was being expanded.Now its only fear..
ab tak dil-e-Khush-feh’m ko tujh se haiN ummiideN
ye aaKhrii shammeN bhii bujhaane ke liye aa
I guess its time to dispel the light...Its time to welcome the darkness...
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Thursday, November 16, 2006
And so the dunes shift...
I have been feeling nostalgic.Lets say lying on the bed dreaming about home is not a healthy pastime.I guess for most people, home is where their hearts currently are.As for me , i feel its a little more than that.Maybe they are just love pangs.I guess the destruction of the structure that I called home for about 16 years hadnt yet completely registered in my mind.Well there is a name for such a mind.Its called SLOW. :D.
Or maybe there is a natural form of mental anaesthesia that kicks in just when you hear or realize something that could cause mental distress.Coming back to my place, the bloody bulldozers took away a lot of memories with them.My regular wars with black ants as a toddler.The simulation of the behaviour of a tornado and its after effects in my hall when i could walk,that first kiss on the couch.Well i jumped a generation didnt I? Its called getting too much to write in words.
As I dream and remember of those times, I am still grateful my little town down there still exists.But its just not the same.The lonely walks of contemplation on the terrace with a coke in hand.Where do I get that? The intense competition of corridor cricket.
Wonder what its like for people whose homes are no more.What it is like to go back and find that the dune has shifted?Or maybe it was just a mirage in the great dune that we call time.I guess deserts too heal everything like they say time does.Or does time just suck everything into it like deserts do?Do wounds really heal or are just sucked up in the passage of time?
As someone mentioned this was today's special, I guess Today's special is a broken dish.It just gets swept away and turns into something else. :D.
I have been feeling nostalgic.Lets say lying on the bed dreaming about home is not a healthy pastime.I guess for most people, home is where their hearts currently are.As for me , i feel its a little more than that.Maybe they are just love pangs.I guess the destruction of the structure that I called home for about 16 years hadnt yet completely registered in my mind.Well there is a name for such a mind.Its called SLOW. :D.
Or maybe there is a natural form of mental anaesthesia that kicks in just when you hear or realize something that could cause mental distress.Coming back to my place, the bloody bulldozers took away a lot of memories with them.My regular wars with black ants as a toddler.The simulation of the behaviour of a tornado and its after effects in my hall when i could walk,that first kiss on the couch.Well i jumped a generation didnt I? Its called getting too much to write in words.
As I dream and remember of those times, I am still grateful my little town down there still exists.But its just not the same.The lonely walks of contemplation on the terrace with a coke in hand.Where do I get that? The intense competition of corridor cricket.
Wonder what its like for people whose homes are no more.What it is like to go back and find that the dune has shifted?Or maybe it was just a mirage in the great dune that we call time.I guess deserts too heal everything like they say time does.Or does time just suck everything into it like deserts do?Do wounds really heal or are just sucked up in the passage of time?
As someone mentioned this was today's special, I guess Today's special is a broken dish.It just gets swept away and turns into something else. :D.
Monday, November 13, 2006
While my pen slowly leaks....
I cant write.Period.I cannot write enough to save my life.So I thought of trying an experiment.Give myself 15 minutes to write whatever gibberish that comes to my mind.First Come First Serve.
Movie mania has hit home big time.A lonely and boring life forced me to watch The Departed thrice.What an OST! :).Becoming a fan of the DropKick Murphys who really are planning on finding their wooden leg.
One thing you do living in mumbai is make a l ot of mundane journies in rickshaws.It does give one plenty of time to contemplate on one's way of life.The contemplation could be intermittently disturbed by either a very voluble driver, who anyway shuts his gob when he sees the icy cold stare of the passenger :) or by a cheapass thug of a rickshaw driver, asking you to choose one of the four directions to the same place(privately begging you take the longest detour).
Its great to see this great mass of humanity called mumbai rolling everyday.People so caught up with tomorrow that there is no time for the now.Lives so mundane yet so hectic that the few people like me who have the time sit back and wonder in awe as to what really drives them.An idyllic chat with a long lost uncle brings these long drawn questions out.How do people live?More essentially Why do people live?I see life today can be summarized in 2 lines of a conversation and 1 line of private thought.
1st man to another: My hen gives an egg everyday.
2nd man to the 1st: Mine gives two.
1st man to himself: Shit! I need another hen.So what can i sell?
One upmanship,TV,Shoes, clothes and what not?You think i forgot Cricket? Nah! Society and its Soma.
Stepping back from the wheel of life for a second has been the single most painful yet revealing experience i have ever had.Suddenly it all becomes so clear yet so confusing.So what do I do? Free myself or get back into the Matrix? I must say Hindsight really is the blue pill.
Sorry i could only spare 10 minutes and my ink ran out.I will have another race with time sometime soon.This has been a pleasure.
I cant write.Period.I cannot write enough to save my life.So I thought of trying an experiment.Give myself 15 minutes to write whatever gibberish that comes to my mind.First Come First Serve.
Movie mania has hit home big time.A lonely and boring life forced me to watch The Departed thrice.What an OST! :).Becoming a fan of the DropKick Murphys who really are planning on finding their wooden leg.
One thing you do living in mumbai is make a l ot of mundane journies in rickshaws.It does give one plenty of time to contemplate on one's way of life.The contemplation could be intermittently disturbed by either a very voluble driver, who anyway shuts his gob when he sees the icy cold stare of the passenger :) or by a cheapass thug of a rickshaw driver, asking you to choose one of the four directions to the same place(privately begging you take the longest detour).
Its great to see this great mass of humanity called mumbai rolling everyday.People so caught up with tomorrow that there is no time for the now.Lives so mundane yet so hectic that the few people like me who have the time sit back and wonder in awe as to what really drives them.An idyllic chat with a long lost uncle brings these long drawn questions out.How do people live?More essentially Why do people live?I see life today can be summarized in 2 lines of a conversation and 1 line of private thought.
1st man to another: My hen gives an egg everyday.
2nd man to the 1st: Mine gives two.
1st man to himself: Shit! I need another hen.So what can i sell?
One upmanship,TV,Shoes, clothes and what not?You think i forgot Cricket? Nah! Society and its Soma.
Stepping back from the wheel of life for a second has been the single most painful yet revealing experience i have ever had.Suddenly it all becomes so clear yet so confusing.So what do I do? Free myself or get back into the Matrix? I must say Hindsight really is the blue pill.
Sorry i could only spare 10 minutes and my ink ran out.I will have another race with time sometime soon.This has been a pleasure.
My Take on the Carter Road deaths.
Yet another case of a rich drunk boy on a juggernaut.The sad part is the verdict is already out in this case.
Has anyone stopped to charge the dead people with illegal occupation of public property?How much value do they place on their own lives?Is it just the boy and his car who is responsible for the loss of 6 lives?
Will anyone charge the government and its law enforcement arm, The Mumbai Police, for dereliction of duty?Preventive measures taken beforehand would have seen the car hit a bumper or something and the only loss of life would have been that of the drunk driver!
Yes, the fellow involved is guilty but to neglect the larger infringement of law that has taken place would be criminal.The police is very efficient in evicting people who loiter around after a certain time on the road then why is that they turn a blind eye towards these pavement dwellers?
The pavement is for a purpose-to be walked upon.When you have people living there, is it surprising that someone might have to pay for it, be it the dwellers themselves yesterday or a common citizen forced to walk on the road?
Yet another case of a rich drunk boy on a juggernaut.The sad part is the verdict is already out in this case.
Has anyone stopped to charge the dead people with illegal occupation of public property?How much value do they place on their own lives?Is it just the boy and his car who is responsible for the loss of 6 lives?
Will anyone charge the government and its law enforcement arm, The Mumbai Police, for dereliction of duty?Preventive measures taken beforehand would have seen the car hit a bumper or something and the only loss of life would have been that of the drunk driver!
Yes, the fellow involved is guilty but to neglect the larger infringement of law that has taken place would be criminal.The police is very efficient in evicting people who loiter around after a certain time on the road then why is that they turn a blind eye towards these pavement dwellers?
The pavement is for a purpose-to be walked upon.When you have people living there, is it surprising that someone might have to pay for it, be it the dwellers themselves yesterday or a common citizen forced to walk on the road?
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