Drenching in the rain

Rain rain where thou art
Bless the earth before it shatters apart

This unrepentant sun and this sultry sky
Gnawing my heart wherever I lie

My dry lips and my thirsty mind
And pains and agonies of all kind

My hands which could never learn to pray
And my heart which has only one thing to say

That its eternal hope sees that elusive light
That one speck among the existing plight

Move on where your dreams take you
Who says they don’t come true?

Treading forward on this thorny path
Whatever be the fury or the wrath

For, there awaits my dream, my soul
O rain! Drench me and make me ‘whole’.

Potpourri

Long time no blogging. Coming back after two months with a pessimistic note. What has been going on in my mind in the past few weeks is hinted by the following informations glanced upon here and there :

Two people in a small Himalayan village exhumed a dead body and then consumed it after cutting its head. They were "tantriks" who believed that consumption of a dead body would give them supernatural powers.

A woman delivered a baby in a lavatory bowl while answering to nature's call. The head of the baby was stuck in the hole of the bowl and by the time some fire brigade personnel broke the bowl and rushed the baby to the hospital, it was dead.

Around 50 people - whose charred bodies with a terrible stench were kept on ice slabs for claims - were engulfed in a fire which ran through three air-conditioned pandals of an exhibition in a city named Meerut.

In parts of Pakistan and Afghanistan, people have a callous carnival in which they cheer on attack dogs mauling at a defenselessly tethered bear in an arena for the bear baiting bloodsport. In parts of India, little bear cubs are blinded and neutered and then dragooned into dancing with thick ropes driven into their sensitive muzzles pierced with hot iron rods and other merciless multiple mutilations.

And finally, the protagonist Winston Smith of my present novel 1984 (George Orwell) is being tortured by electric shocks and blood thirsty rodents attacking on his face in the Ministry of Love of Oceania.

Bon Jovi's "Is it you and me or just this world we live in?" comes to my mind almost instantly. And then follows "Gonna take a miracle to save us this time"! Amidst all this potpourri of "strange" thoughts, I could reach to just one conclusion - the world is a dirty place and all our present actions are knowingly or unknowingly directed towards finding clean spots here itself, isn't it?

Concept of God

William F. Buckley, Jr, founder of the National Review magazine says - "It is intellectually easier to credit a divine intelligence than to submit dumbly to felicitous congeries about nature."

Is that the reason why some people believe and some don't on the existence of a supreme power? For a few, it might qualify as a nice excuse to actually run away from the rhetoric counter-point used in such debates - "Hey, look at the stars and tell me how these arrangements could have existed without anything?" For any tangible object in this world, this camp would point to the inspiration towards its making rather than the creation itself. Beethoven's compositions, Leonardo's masterpieces... do all these exist because something else exists which inspired the physical being towards extraordinary works? I disagree.

I am not being solipsistic. There is much more beyond the self. But why should we move beyond the world? The scriptures state that the Reality is beyond the ken of the senses and the mind. Then why bother about it? There is enough one can do within the realm of 'senses and mind' and within this world itself. The problem starts when you try to define Reality. For some, it is God in a definite form or shape, for me, it is what we live in.

Chanting verses like the Gayatri Mantra and contemplating on the Absolute with meditations, wouldn't that have been a waste of time for Beethoven and Leonardo da Vinci? I am not a hard core nihilist. Religious rituals and practices are merely different means of one's share of solitude. But, exaggeragte that into a necessary and only path to achieve oneness with the Supreme, and you are moving away from yourself. You lost the very purpose of solitude.

This I believe : There is no need of a God for my present existence on this planet.

Rang De Basanti

It says - A Generation Awakens... And it tries the best shot.

In this contemporary rendering of the legendary story of Bhagat Singh, director Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra passes on the message to the young generation brilliantly and almost effortlessly. In an unusual but highly effective format, the scenes shift from historical to contemporary settings flawlessly and it's easy to assimilate the smooth transitions. A.R. Rahman's music with Prasoon Joshi's lyrics create a magical effect.

With its great script, the movie keeps the audience spellbound. The imagination, however, becomes too much in the latter half of the movie when, in protest of Ajay's flight accident, the five young men shoot the defence minister and then broadcast their feelings on the radio.

The movie poses a problem - of the nation gnawed by politicians. But, leaves it at that without giving a solution. It fills the youth with enthusiasm, with aggression, with devotion, but stops at that. Swades, on the other hand, was more realistic with a direct message.

P.S. One particular line which I found more than impressive : "College de gate de is taraff, hum life ko nachaatte hain... to dujji taraf life humko nachaatti hai... dhim lak lak dhim dhim lak lak!!"

Back again

It's been four whole months since I scribbled this space. I am personally convinced that this is my longest stretch of an open display of procrastination. Many events crossed by, many a times I actually got down to writing, but then...

Life has taken a U-turn I guess. CAT, XAT this that... all passed away, and now I am waiting for the 90 day countdown after which I'll be out of this place. New year passed without any resolutions or fanfare. Did nothing in the winter vacations as well; except yes, a few good books. Am feeling too lousy to write about them though.

A compelling novel

In this story running through three generations, covered beautifully in a 692 page work, one keeps on hopping from one facet of human relationship to other; each one so intricate and yet so minutely dealt with, that it keeps you stuck without even a slightest hint of boredom. An impressive novel encompassing everything called 'life'.

A few excerpts :

"Habit and awe are harder to overcome than people realize until they actually try to circumvent the conduct of years."

"And gradually his memory slipped a little, as memories do, even those with so much love attached to them; as if there is an unconscious healing process within the mind which mends up in spite of our desperate determination never to forget."

"And ignorance breeds ignorance; an unawakened body and mind sleep through events which awareness catalogues automatically."

"The land was so beautiful, so pure, so indifferent to the fates of the creatures who presumed to rule it. They might put their hands to it, but in the long run it ruled them. Until they could direct the weather and summon up the rain, it had the upper hand."

"Perhaps no human being is equipped to judge which is worse: inchoate longing with its attendant restlessness and irritability, or specific desire with its willful drive to achieve the desire."

"Every man has sadness in him, and it is no sin to remember a grief."

"We all have contempt for whatever there's too many of. Out here it's sheep, but in the city it's people."

"Love! What's love? Nothing but figment of women's imagination, thaf's all."

"For only those who have slipped and fallen know the vicissitudes of the way."

"Each of us has something within us which won't be denied, even if it makes us scream aloud to die. We are what we are, that's all. Like the old Celtic legend of the bird with the thorn in its breast, singing its heart out and dying. Because it has to, it's driven to. We can know what we do wrong even before we do it, but self-knowledge can't affect or change the outcome, can it? Everyone singing his own little song, convinced it's the most wonderful song the world has ever heard. Don't you see? We create our own thorns, and never stop to count the cost. All we can do is suffer the pain, and tell ourselves it was well worth it."

"No man sees himself in a mirror as he really is, nor any woman."

"Who on earth ever said people most moved don't weep? They don't know anything about it."

"Perhaps that's what Hell is, a long term in earth-bound bondage. Perhaps we suffer our hells in living..."

"It must be the demon of destructiveness in us, the impulse to poke the guts out of a fire. It only hastens the end. But what a beauriful end, isn't it?"

Do you agree?

This is a dialogue from 100 Girls which I was watching today:

"Men have this anti-intimacy force field around them.. that is powered by sarcasm, humor and a version."

Any comments?

Mood Swing

Mid-semesters ended last week. But yet, I have vowed to study hard until the 20th of November, because currently, on the top of my agenda is CAT '05 due on that date. Today, though, I didn't feel much like intriguing myself with those 35 second per question thing and decided to do something different. Old spirit of fine arts came back to my mind but owing to unavailability of my painting equipments, I resorted to doing some pencil work on my room wall itself. This is what I ended up with:

Got a lot of views and comments from those who saw it: about the mood of that character, or about my mood itself when I drew that. Few called it mischievous, few just good. What do you say?

The 'Sportive Instinct'

Something has suddently got over me. In better terms, let me put it as - Sportive Instinct. I get up at 5 in the morning just to try my hands on Lawn Tennis. Tell that to somebody out here who hasn't seen me returning back (just because everybody is asleep at that time!) and he would think - have I gone mad? Getting up before the sun is up atleast by several degrees above the landscape is a sort of offence if practiced in hostels - the only thumb rule which dictates the time to get up at this place is, get up around 15 minutes before the first class, so that you can catch it up atleast within the 'acceptable' limits of +15 minutes.

The evening daily consists of a bit of volleyball. I am not a very good player though, but - every age is the right age to learn! On the top of it, the court is filled up with amateurs like me, not causing too much of troubles. I know I can play fair if I continue this zeal.

First Day First Show - "The Rising"

"Once upon a time dawned on this earth a man with ..."

The saga of Mangal Pandey depicted in the latest film portrays his rebellion against the East India Co. with all the required spirit and literary style. Aamir Khan has done justice with this elusive character who enlightened the torch of India's first freedom struggle.

I found the movie to be conveying much more than just the story of Mangal. It kept on depicting in the background India's medieval society with all its existing dogmas. The untouchable lower caste people, the girls being sold from one hand to another and finally ending up as prostitutes, the sati system ... This complete framework on which the strings of the film are knit hurt you somewhere in the heart. All these things existed in our own country in the middle of 19th century, and we still can't claim that they have been completely wiped out.

Nobody is perfect. And neither was Mangal. He never touched the sweeper in the street because he was from lower caste and his entire transformation into a freedom fighter from a loyal English sepoy was due to cartridges which used skins of pigs and cows and this was against his religious beliefs. But, it's the brighter side we should ponder upon. He was the one-man-army who motivated the entire 34 regiment at Barrackpore to fight against the Britishers. He sets himself apart as an epitome of bravery when he stands all alone infront of the entire Rangoon regiment and once again by shouting 'Halla-Bol' just before he was to be hanged.

Another interesting character in the film is that of Gordan who is shown to be in an internal tug of war between his friendship and his loyalty. The concluding notes in the film where it is said that he was finally fighting against the East India Co. after the death of Mangal is worth noting.

Overall the film is sure to impart a poignant effect on your mind and heart.