glaze!

Not exactly an article, just a passing thought. It's almost the end of the year and the last five months of my life have gone by in a flash. And in all this time, the word I have used, spoken, thought, felt most often, closest to my state of mind and emotions, has been 'frustrated'!

(I don't need these walls around me!!) Pun on round brackets intended.

Like I've written before, just staying alone in my room makes me feel incarcerated. Life is depressing enough thanks to the term end exams. It all feels so strongly negative, I think it might be suicidal. But I'm really happy and excited that I'll finally be going home for a week, a REAL vacation!! Not the two day leaves, read saturday-sunday which would be holidays anyway, sometimes interspersed with programs and conferences, they give us and then ask "So you are back after a refreshing break?" Looking forward to my purposeless roaming around Bombay :D, and catching up with friends, et al.

So now I feel suicidal and ecstatic intermittently, sometimes at the same time. Well, I guess that's the life of a first year student in IIM A. Probably can't help it. Wow! What a life!

blaze

I have recently discovered something I love doing. Burning paper.

I love the smell of paper as it turns to ash. I love the thin line of golden flame as it moves closer to your hand. Annihilating the wavering paper. A frame of gray blue, like in fairy tales. And smoldering paper. Rushing to the other edge. Flashing across. Flames dancing around, teasing, playing. And then the warm, lingering, all-comforting, enveloping scent.

I tried it first on a chilly morning. With a paper I had to burn, to save my grace.

Then on a cold winter night. The leftovers of my resumes. :P I turned a corner of my room into a sort of fireplace. :D I can still smell the beautiful, warm fragrance. It somehow comforts me. Eases my mind. Soothes my soul. I am yet to discover why I love it so much. Why it is slowly obsessing me. Maybe I will think later and find out.
:)

A love affair !

Got nothing better to do on a thursday night. Or might be friday. Cant remember and cant really be bothered. But since I'm sitting so jobless in my room right now, I thought I might as well make some good use of my time and try to think a bit and put that down. Cant trust myself to remember what I've been thinking ;) Since I'm listening to some random music, that's what I'd like to reflect on :)

It's been eleven years since I fell in love with music. And there hasn't been a day when I havn't turned to it for solace, comfort, to lighten my mood or just for entertainment. I've heard so much crap in all this time. Rock all through the ages and places, pop like girl bands and boy bands, punk rock and death metal, from some downright nonsensical Bollywood stuff to Hindustani classical and carnatic, from Pakistani pop, rock, sufi and semi classical to Arabic, Turkish and Lebanese pop, from Persian classical and metal to Indonesian and Korean conteporary, from Afghan to Spanish and Russian, trance, lounge, new age, regional Indian music, you name it! I did experiment with hiphop and rap and grew to detest it. Sincere apologies to the fans! Have also developed a strange fondness for Indian and Paki underground bands, including tracking their progress charts.

And what do I say about heavy metal! It leaves me in a crazy, induced, incomprehensible, all-forgetful trance. Makes me peaceful, everything around pure and serene all over again. It isn't just music, it's the end to every good or bad thing everywhere, it's every part of me.

My taste in music got all varied somewhere in the middle of my engineering when I used to bunk college and stay home to download music. I guess I have a Jal concert to thank for that! It was the perfect other activity I could pursue during my study leave. :D I remember downloading about 5-6 GB of music in my BE Project Lab, driving a lot of people mad in the process. :P I have absolutely no regrets in this matter! I doubt I could have learnt anything worthwhile by indulging in knowledge gaining pursuits. Instead I discovered a passion and a pleasure, and a trustworthy mate for all of life. Met a lot of amazing music lovers from all over the world. :)

So why is it that I like music so much, and listen to it 24x7 irrespective of whatever else I am doing, be it sleeping, working, studying. I guess it helps me relax, forget everything else, lose myself entirely, absolutely, supremely in its beauty. It weaves magic for me, somehow always managing to comfort me when I'm worried, tensed or scared, ease my mind, even working as a sleeping pill. Charms. It brings home ecstasy, it gives me a way to celebrate. Captivates. A psuedo excuse for elation. Conquers all other emotion. Enchants. A road filled with ecstasy. Allures. It lets me live. Fascinates. Survive in insanity. In apprehension, insecurity, tears, waves of time. A love, my life, my world. I guess I'll always be crazy about music.
:)

Beguiled. Mesmerized. Enthralled.

The Pseudo Religious

I have been thinking of writing something on religion for ages. So here's penning down a few thoughts on a topic that is really close to my heart. One thing that enthuses me, one thought that lets me think about everything else, one passion that keeps me going, living, feeling. A disclaimer at the very offset. All thoughts are completely my own and not to be held against or argued on with anyone except me. :)

Let's assume for a second that we do not know what defines religion. The instant thought that strikes me is that it is a way of life. A mode of thinking. A way to act, to behave with others, to talk, share and celebrate. A time to wake up, to eat, sleep and pray. A place to sit, and one to visit during your holidays. It is a group of people leading their lives in a like manner, having strangely identical lifestyles, sharing beliefs and some ambitions. Most importantly, having comparable thought processes, values, desires and dislikes.

But that is not how religion is viewed in the current context. Its boundaries have narrowed down, the group has turned more into a cult. With a motive stronger than any other to send a prayer to vacuum or stone. In a few unfortunate cases, one can even identify gangs that seek to preach and propagate but not to listen or adopt, to terrorize and spread fear and repetitiveness, to bind and rule in darkness.

Power corrupts, and religion is a powerful tool in the hands of those who lead and control. They pave the way, they show us the route, but they leave us still craving for a sign of the linkage with the crude reality of the world or the eternal truth. A few objections, some denials, and those who dare to oppose are ostracized. Negating our identities, falsifying our presence, leaving us wondering about our beliefs and loyalties. Always surrounded by a maze of words, prying and trying to replace our soul's thoughts. They want their words to turn into our thoughts, to petrify, to turn into stone. Do we have to respect them? Must they always be revered? Why the holy pedestal under their feet and the dirty slippers under ours?


Fortunately or unfortunately, an individual's religion forms a significant part of his identity. Why then must it so happen that every baby has a religion before he has a name, before he has learnt the language of the world. Religion is an ancient concept, complicated and perfected by the wisdom and understanding of centuries. It takes a lifetime to comprehend it, or maybe even more, and an eternity to master it. There are myriad ideologies, beliefs, interpretations associated with every single religion. It does not have to hold true that a person born into a religion identifies with his faith completely. His way of thinking and believing might be more inclined towards the beliefs of another religion. This raises a question in my mind. Would it be unfair to say that an individual should be given the choice to select his own faith, or none at all.

Let religion not be decided by when and where an individual was born but rather by the choices his personality is likely to make. It is my belief that a child must not be judged at an early stage of his life. Rather he should be given sufficient time to study and understand what the wise gurus of the past had to say or preach and how his mind aligns with those ideologies. Only when he is absolutely convinced about the veracity of a particular philosophy and his desire to achieve what is expected of him, would he be in the right position to make an informed decision about the religion he wishes to follow for the rest of his life.

Similarly, if a person finds it difficult to identify with any faith or with the entire concept of religion, he should have complete freedom to be neutral or irreligious. There is no logic behind forcing people to accept or convert to another religion just for the sake of increasing its numbers. When the concept is as abstract and idealistic as religion, colossal armies can do nothing to win the war. Power comes not merely by massive numbers, but by the authenticity, potency and simplicity of ideas. I believe it makes more intellectual sense to incorporate those people within a religion who can take the faith forward and make astute contributions that can be handed down the generations rather than include those who shun peace and turn the group into a violent mob.

The numerous bomb blasts all over India have incensed its citizens. There are those who would argue that terrorists must be hanged or shot at first sight. In short, they must be ruthlessly dealt with or as I may put it, violence must be dealt with violence. I beg to differ on this. A terrorist’s ideology is unique. The individual would generally have been brainwashed into thinking that by performing an activity such as planting a bomb, he is servicing Allah and thereby gaining entry into the gardens of the Lord. He would have been promised that a beautiful and healthy after life awaits him for all eternity. He would have been blinded into believing that he would not have to face the tribulations and pain that the wretched earth has to offer anymore, but could spend the rest of his time in spiritual pursuits, while always in the company of the mighty Lord and the beautiful maidens.

When a potential terrorist is convinced that what he is doing is not merely right but holy and desirable too, then killing such a person holds no meaning. Publicizing the death could possibly have the undesirable effect of motivating other young suicide bombers rather than discouraging them. Gold dust is what it would be for them, as they look forward to and even wish for death and ultimately an union with Heaven. As history has shown, eliminating criminals is not the perfect way to solve crime. For there would always be those more than willing to replace them, and they would be greater in number.

It is not untrue that understanding is the first step to acceptance and acceptance alone can lead to recovery. We would not be senseless if we were to try and understand the philosophy that drives the terrorist and then alter it. Rather than branding the offenders as belonging to a separate sect, nourishing an accepting sort of mentality towards them would make a considerable difference. The reasons for their discontent and the feeling of having been wronged stem primarily from their perception of being cut off from society, its happiness and progress. Would we be repeating a mistake if we were to treat them as an altogether diverse species who have notions and emotions very varied from the general flow that runs through society.

After all, we all arrived at the earth in the same way, molded into different life forms over the years owing to the environment and the elders who taught us. The undesirable milieu a person is placed in is through no fault of his own. This holds true for the vast majority of the young and the innocent being swept off their feet. For those who can think for themselves and yet choose to think and act differently, the crime of refusing peace weighs heavy on their shoulders. The world must be wary of them. And yet, they would be less powerful without the sightless behind them.

I have witnessed a string of serial bomb blasts in my city and have become used to the idea of it happening over and over again. We fear for our lives and those of own, we stay in the safety of our homes for a day and then life goes on as usual. They have numbed us, first out of fright, despair and helplessness, then out of a powerlessness which knew that we were vulnerable and would always remain so, and wished to make it a part, albeit undesirable, of our lives because nothing waits or stops here. Such is the resilience we have unwittingly developed. These events have invited strong criticism, heated debates and strangely emotional calls for action. A singular attack on USA drew the strongest yet military response, arguably at the whim of a minority faction. Incidents that were morally questionable took place, changing the course of history forever.

To bring out a stark contrast, less thought is given to such adversities when they take place in less powerful nations, even if they are more frequent and occur in greater intensity. Losing a friend or family member, seeing people from your own village incapacitated beyond a working life or maddened beyond grief are barely uncommon sights. Brought down to your knees, compelled to obey, forced through sorrow and misery just because you care to love and fear for your soul's own. Tried and tested, they give up their own virtues and hopes, abide by what is preached and made into law by the self instilled leaders. There is not a human there who has never known blood and tears, depravity and severance.

Cut off from the rest of the developed world, still living in a sort of medieval period, they have little to look forward to and hope for. Young men and women recognize the narrow opportunities. But they do not restrict their vision or kill hope. They are open to new ideas. They often look up to the rest of the world in awe and would readily embrace a different lifestyle given a chance. They are like the rest of us in that. Any other youth on the street. Interested in building careers, listening to stories, watching movies. Lovers of music and cricket. Desirous of money and fame. Passionate about playing, talking, enjoying. Insecure as teenagers and growing into adults, dreaming, serenading. They resemble us in that, in nurturing ambitions and reveries, in feeling joy and pain, in reading, talking, appearing, being. With slight differences. Expected. Not wildly wished away.

It is a tiny flick that is all it takes to shape their lives this way or that. And the undesirable has its effect. It wins only because of its proximity. Because it is easier to influence when you face them, without any force or motivation to tantalize them towards a different path of life. That is all I believe we need to change. To tackle the problem at the grass root level. It is a start, maybe an imperfect one, but a beginning nevertheless. A change in my belief and yours, in our behavior, translating into a change in their existence. There is no dearth of channels we could use to communicate across the globe. The young and old, of similar faiths, lifestyles, desires, hobbies, choices, with the same wish and dream. We could create a beautiful life, a love, a world of strength and tranquility. And we would not have to wait for them to come and annihilate our perfect lives. And we could build our power together thus. In this imperfection, empathy, peace, beauty.

The night's a curtain. It shields our vision. Crawling in the mud of insularity. A wisp of wind. It makes the blind fly. The night screams for release, it begs for mercy. To be ripped off. The mind needs but a voice and freedom, the vision can never be obscured. It demands punishment, that of every word that ever mutilated a thought, but never could kill it. The night cries for death, that of every instance which replaces love with god, humanity with insanity, kindness with brutality. So it evolves.

losing

A question nags at me. Constantly, wholly, disturbingly so. It pulls my spirits down, it plucks at every fibre of joy and hope within me. I was perfectly happy yesterday. The day shone bright and the night was tempting. So what happened to me all of a sudden. Is it about not being able to control my mood again? Or is it that nothing seems to be going right. Nothing even remotely positive. While all around me I see joyful faces. Do they see the same in me and wonder similarly?

It can't have anything to do with at least two of those three "things". Because they have always been this way for me. I have always lived on the borderline here. And I just don't care much about academics anyway. So what, then? The fact that my brother refused to talk to me or even come and meet me, or that I could not give enough time to my parents while they were here and my mom was kind of sad when she left. Maybe that was a sort of instigator.

But the real question is something else. Deep within me, it spreads its tentacles searching desperately for an answer, screaming madly for release. Why is it that when you have something, you don't want it, and the only time you realize you want it so much is much later when you don't have it anymore...

There have been so many situations in the past which exemplified this thought. And I haven't found an answer to it yet. Or an exception. I haven't even learnt to recognize them as and when they arise to avoid depressed musings as these in the future. There have been times when I have held gems with my fingers, never knowing them for what they were or using them as I should have. Only to lose them to time like you do all things. Or fate. And then wishing for them later, my heart craving for the pure ecstasy I could have had. Always wondering what I did wrong.

Why does the same thing happen to me over and over again. Heaven knows I should have learnt by now. I didn't want to blame myself for everything, but I did, and I don't want to now. Maybe it's just the way things are meant to be. Maybe it's the course my life was meant to take. The curse my destiny was meant to have. Makes me wonder when, if ever, it will lift and I will be able to lead a normal happy life like the others around me.

There are times like these when all I wish to do is escape into a fantasy world where everything would be different. Lifestyles, reasons for joy and sorrow, success and failure, pains, cares, fears, celebrations would not exist the way they do here. And the whole purpose of life would be strikingly different. Far removed from the machines, sticks and expectations the earth has to offer. Something more magical, rustic, primitive, enchanting and thrilling.

I think I know why such a fairytale world tantalizes and beckons my soul. It helps me escape from the harsh realities of this life and live, albeit for a fleeting while, in an imaginary world where I don't have to be bogged down by the mundane everyday troubles. Where a flick of a wand could bring back the things that are most precious to me and that I no longer hold. But again, that takes away all meaning, distorts the beauty and spontaneity of life, making it less magical.
:)