Search

WITHOUT WAX

the musings of a mellowed heart..

That crowded loneliness..

o-loneliness-facebook

He had soft eyes

That would crack open

At the behest of a stranger’s pain

 

He had a cheerful soul

That made him fall in love with his own life

Rejoicing his ups n downs

 

He had a kind heart

Giving max to the world around

Than asking for alms n palms

 

He was independent

Living his life

Troubling himself, rather others

 

He loved silence

More than the words

He revered Buddha

He loved peace

 

Yet, his moments of silence

At times, were those

Of that crowded loneliness

 

He made great friends and

It was his those moments

That he wondered

If he had failed to hold on to the ones

He could trust with everything in his life

 

He had a wonderful family and

It was his those moments

That he wondered

If someone could walk an extra mile

To pull him up from his toughest times

When he failed to handle all by himself

 

He made beautiful relationships and

It was his those moments

That he wondered

If he had failed

To keep those footprints

Somehow not being dried up half way on the journey

 

He had everything in life

For which he thanked God everyday

Still, it was his those moments

Of feeling that crowded loneliness!

If ‘The Alchemist’ was an Indian Novel

the_alchemist_by_yulian_peko-d5hjq8h

‘The Alchemist’, a novel by a Brazilian author, Paulo Coelho became one of the bestselling books in history, setting a record for the most translated book by a living author. ‘The Alchemist’, follows the journey of a shepherd boy believing in a recurring dream, in search of a fortune.

The theme of the books is that ‘when a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream’. The book teaches you to follow your heart, ‘Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure’. The treasure here is abundance in wealth, relationships, happiness or whatever your heart really craves for.

It is good that Coelho wasn’t born in India. If at all if he was born here and if he had written ‘The Alchemist’, the theme of the book could have got slightly changed; ‘when a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to see that the person’s dreams are put down! He would have taught us ‘Never to follow your heart, but to follow your society’!

Now, don’t raise your eyebrows, let’s look at the society we have built around us. May be ‘India’ is the only word that is the symbol of our unity. Oh! Sorry, we fought on that too, we have a registered dual name for our country, India, that is Bharat. May be this itself is a symbol for how badly we are divided as a society. Divided by caste, creed, language, religion, region, culture, beliefs and what not?

We are not very much in love with the word ‘progress’. Our pride is not in joining hands and moving forward, rather in putting the other down & rising above him. Even if one has succeeded though his sheer hard work, we have reasons not to like his growth. The reason can be anything, that he is a muslim(a different religion) or a Tamilian(a different language and a region), in the absence of the two, he may be a dalit(a different caste). If it is neither of the above, he may be a junior, or he had been a classmate or a friend & in cases a brother.

This culture that we have inculcated in ourselves is may be the reason for most of the problem we are facing as a country. May be this is why we don’t find any breathtaking innovations happening here or may be this is why we can’t even rub shoulders with China in the medals tally at the Olympics. We don’t cheer each other’s success impartially without finding a caste, language, region, or religion in someone’s success.

In India, it is easy to follow the society rather follow your heart. It is easy to follow the passion of the society like being an engineer or a doctor rather than your own, like being a sportsman, an artist, a theatre person. It is easy to follow the society even in getting married. In India, we get married to a caste and not to a girl. In most of the cases, these ‘exact’ matches may be the greatest mis-matches which makes each other ‘adjust’ and drag a life rather than ‘live’ a life together.

As Indians we have lots to change. We are not able to find solution to issues dragging for decades together, may it be the water sharing issues or the Kashmir issue etc. We need to have a more opened up or liberal mindset to issues and solutions from the highest decision making levels to the lowest level and not to just flare up issues.  No individual, Chief Minister, or a Prime Minister has a solution to these problems, it is only though consensus we should come to an amicable solution. If we stop arguing, bickering and fighting and start discussing, any such issue is not very far from resolution.

We need to start forgetting or neglecting our divisions. In a mixed group of population, it is very easy to see people getting grouped themselves based on language, region, religion, caste etc. Never think about which caste the other belongs, learn the language if the other has a different tongue, get to know about their beautiful culture, festivals if he belongs to a different region, ask what the Bible, Geetha or the Quran teaches if he belongs to a different religion. Only India can provide you with such wonderful world of differences. It is only that we should develop a heart to celebrate our differences. We should make our circles on our interests and our thought processes rather than our great grandfather set divisions. Even in 21st century we can’t keep acting like we are in Vedic times.

We are all the same human beings caste into different divisions. No person is lower or higher by his caste, tongue, region or religion and no religion teaches bad things. If it does, it is not sacred at all. If God himself has created divisions, then he is not God at all.

At the end, we are all are missing out on a beautiful life, just by timidly following a society without even questioning the rights & wrongs of it. No society is perfect and it will never move towards becoming one if we stop correcting the wrongs or the teachings or practises which seemed correct then but not to this century.  We all have a responsibility being born into this world to live our life and gift a world to our children which is far better than what we lived in.

Let’s open our minds. Let’s start listening to our hearts. Let what ‘The Alchemist’ has taught to the world; let it apply to My Country too.

April showers

India Daily Life

The bereaved earth

Cracked open its dried up heart

The wide eyed son of the soil

Wondered over the counted days of delay

Rising mercury looked down

Fearful of its own altitude

Saddened winds wailed the

Burning flames on its own wings

Cradled baby sprouts cried for the

Milk of the Mother Earth

Grumpy coffee plants

Didn’t even smile for a Rajanikanth joke

The pulpy mangoes held high a placard

Say no to ripening

Hiding winged ants grumbled

Over the terrific traffic jam

Grounded water lily

Took to the streets for their upliftment

Clouds complained of the overload

Called for a strike on the last day

 

maxresdefault

The unnerved Majesty

Took his own cooling time

Playing his master tricks of distraction

Mesmerised with his brilliant morning and evening shows

As the uncontrolled clouds swelled on the street

He ordered for silencing the charged up clouds

 

Marching on the Majesties orders

The cold winds tied up the clouds forcing them to surrender

The Majesty thundered and lightened

Instantly firing the numerous striking clouds

The clouds gave in

And poured out overloaded grievances

userupload_2013_13530405101456312303.564

The drops moistened the

Barren hearts of the land

The son of the soil

Danced with his muddied bare foot

The scent of the soil

Healed the burnt wings of the winds

The raised up mercury

Had a chilling ride back home

Delivered baby sprouts

Cried out till they were fed

The coffee cherry blossoms

went for a colgate smile even for an Alia joke

The pulpy mangoes now

Didn’t even bother about an early ripening

Winged ants were booked for

Jumping the signal

Water lilies made a beeline

For performing a backstroke

The jobless clouds

Went for a lazy float

raintop

The windows hid behind the misty veil

Eavesdropping the romance on a rainy song

Tip tip tip tip

Tip tip tip tip

The first day of the first showers

It was the April showers

invented-first-rain-gauge_e5c35cb95a001057

Manu’s Seeds of Poison

Manu’s seeds of poison

I sowed in all good season

But, never thrived on the path of reason.

8564bbf3217640d9b1eef514682b6b91

Naive the minds were

Prepared with the seeds of poison

He made the ground with perfect care

It was a maze, a caste maze, a varna maze

Once in it, it was all haze

 

At the centre of the maze

He kept his own people with a conniving gaze

Surrounded all around,

Each of the ‘others’ thought they held the ‘upper’ stage

 

At the centre of this great maze

The Manu’s men already laid the seize

Played the tricks, changed the boundaries

Rewrote the rules of the game

people-lost-in-maze

‘Others’ fought for centuries,

Within them, with others

To be that ‘upper’

And they were never so ‘lower’

And the Manu’s men

Enjoyed the game

 

Minds are no more naive

Hearts are burnt with the truth so grave

The flame is all bright and brave

To burn down the centuries maze

That is standing so naked and alive

 

Without Wax

Ash

 

Navodaya Vidyalaya, My school, My memories..

img_9266

The richness of Western Ghats is better experienced than explained. Inside the womb of this nature’s beauty lies the sleeping city of Chikmagalur. Like an embryo inside, the city doesn’t hustle & bustle. All you experience is its tiny movements. The sound of breezy winds, a sticky rain that doesn’t get detached easily once it embraces the earth, chirp of creepy creatures,  rustle of few vehicles & rarely seen people, nothing more.

Here, in one of the remote villages stood like an old fortress, my institution, Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya. Like other similar schools in each district all around India, it was the brainchild of Rajiv Gandhi, the erstwhile Prime Minister of India. It is where I spent most of my educational years and is where I have space in my mind for its strongest memories.

 

2-482x201

I was just 11 when I voluntarily and proudly entered, for, I was the only one to be selected from my school! It wasn’t the best of the beginnings. I felt similar to a calf being driven away from its mother. I missed everything, my small village school, my friends who would treat me nothing less than to a king & most importantly, the pampering of my parents. Every night I covered my blanket till my head and cried. In every pause between my sobbing I heard cries from different directions! Only then I knew that I wasn’t the only one who was crying! It wasn’t easy to jump into a world of unknown faces, strange rules.

But as days passed when jumping out looked difficult- thanks to the broken glass pieces that was spread on the compound wall- it was necessary to make friends, wash your own clothes, and wash rooms & toilets on periodical basis. Human life is so amazing that it can get accustomed to anything, otherwise who expected us to do all this and get up at 5:30 in the morning & run for miles together in that shivering winter?

As new friends emerged, cries subsided. As I got older, I saw my friends grow. As my uniform changed from shorts to pants I saw the feeling of superiority grow. As I saw hairs grow above my upper lips, I felt the feelings of adolescence root in me. As subjects changed 8 times in a day, from history to science and from art to music, without much of a realization I was intellectually growing, I was slowly sliding into the beauty of art & music.

img1-1024x532-1920x1080

I think and I strongly believe that one of the most valuable assets of the school is its teachers. Where else can you find such a bunch of dedicated souls who can oblige to throw away their personal time to come during the ‘silent’ reading hours and take pain to watch around and clear the doubts. I feel so proud of all the teachers. Same time I pity them. Pity is for, at that age we neither understood the importance of those study hours, nor the sacrifice of the teachers. We found ways to tease girls, we found time to discuss Gandhi to Hitler to saturday night’s puliyoagare and we made all plans, teams for the Sunday cricket match.

Such was the life at that wonderful institution. I can write hundred more pages and still think that a hundred more can go. As I repeat, it was with pride I entered. The next 7 years, we called it a jail; we cursed our P E teacher Kurugund Sir every morning for the sin of disturbing our lazy sleep. We fought with our teachers to gain access to little more freedom and got sincerely punished at every instant. We broke rules whenever we had chance to. Finally when it was time to leave, tears rolled, I cried again. I didn’t want to go! I didn’t want to miss a bit of what I had for seven long years!

Now when I sit back and think what exactly I gained from those seven long years of struggle, I end up with this. It has taught me an independent life. It has helped me to develop a creative mind. It has given me a body fit and fine; thanks to Kurugund Sir (your belt treatments have really worked sir!). It has taught me punctuality, it has taught me sincerity. It has taught me art & music and now I know how to find peace for my soul. It has given me great friends. Moreover, it has given me a foundation on which I realize the dreams I dreamt. It has given me everything to carve out a beautiful life where there is no space for mediocrity. Now, with all that I have borrowed from this institution, I try to excel every day, scale new heights and dream for the highest.

(The article was written for school magazine, on the eve of Golden Jubilee Celebrations in 2012. Republishing here with little editing!)

Without Wax

Ash

 

 

To my mother, with lots of love..

Ma, the umbilical cord connected you and me

You fed me your food

You shared me your blood

vgp_newborn_sc20bw

You brought me into a shape

Inside your safe heaven

From mere blood and flesh

Rather, from just a single cell

 

You went through a lot ma

As I grew up

I made tiny movements

With my tiny hands & legs

I even kicked u in my sleep

But still you found happiness in your pain

 

I don’t know why I wanted to come out

But I cried ma

When he cut me from you

In my rush to see the world,

I gave you a world of pain as I came out

 

I pestered you throughout my childhood

You fed me, u cleaned me

You sang me lullabies

You taught me to walk

You taught me to speak

You were the world to me

 

When darkness frightened me

You sat by my side till I fell asleep

When I was running with a temperature

You kept awake the whole night

In every bit that was to be shared

You always took the last bite

 

You balanced a complete family

A work till late evening, a husband,

A mother in law, children

Everyone had complaints

But ma, like the mother earth

Silently you went through everything satisfying everyone

 

 

However independent I grew from you

You still always thought about my well being

Even when you were a thousand miles away

You had nightmares when I was under some stress

I thought I was cut off from you ma

But I think I will never be

 

Ma, you are so special

How I could never write about you?

I wrote so much on love

But ma, can any of that ever match yours?

Ma, I am so indebted in your love

And how I think, I can repay you ever?

 

When I was a child, I used to be so happy

When I could bring a smile on your face

For all the difficulties you went through

I have always tried to bring a meaning to that

Though I will never be able to repay you

I will be striving ma, to make you more proud

To keep that smile, always on your face..

 

Your’s loving son..

Wings to fly (A salute to womanhood)

save-the-girl-child

Let her crawl

She will stand tall

 

Give her the wings to fly

She will raise high and high

 

For she who swings the cradle of civilization

Let her breath a life of her own

 

For she who is the first teacher

Let her be taught equal to her brother

 

For she who protects the life in her cocoon

Let her not be entangled in the web of rules & customs

 

For she who feeds the elixir of life

Let her be fed and let to play, sing and dance

 

For she who teaches the value of love

Let her be loved and respected

 

For she who holds your hand till the end

Let her be cared and protected

 

For she who goes through hell to bring you heaven

Let her be paid back in the evenings of her life

 

If you let her crawl

She will stand tall

 

When you give her wings to fly

She will raise high and high

 

Saluting the womanhood and all the women in our lives, let us pledge to end female foeticide, and strive for equal opportunities, equal value and greater respect to woman in our society. Wishes to all the wonderful women in the world, a Happy International Women’s Day!

Without Wax

Ash

 

Silent shores…

Silent shores, where my heart is

Calming down violent oceans where my mind was

Musical waves, where my ear is

Hushing up drumming beats where my thought was

2945653

Wet sands on the skin

Sign of bare foots on the shores

Seal of your hold in my hand

We deal the bond for a life

ab6cc9add530199d84e3f124194bb8ea

The draped skies of a setting sun

Splashing journey with myriad colours

The never ending ocean holds witness

For a never ending trust even if sun is in absence

Şimdi-Değilse-Ne-Zaman

Miles we walk

Hurdles we cross

Bridges we build

Each other we reach

lovers-footprints-10041955

Trust we behold

Moments we create

Spices we add

Laughter we cook

Fights we lose

Patch up we win

Naughty-couple-playing-on-seashore

Perfection you bring to that dream

I always dreamt a ‘life to be

And my love, you made me know,

Happily ever after is not just in stories

romantic couple in rain - Best Romantic Couple in Rain

BEING UNTOUCHED!

Oh learned wise men,

Why are you yet to see the light?

 

You called them the untouchables

The men, who toiled on the land

Bruises in their hands &

Sweat on their forehead

 

They muddied their hands to feed you

And you labelled them impure

Tell me oh learned wise men

When both of you are born in the same womb

How come you only come out as pure?

 

For centuries, you hit him on the knee

You threw peanuts for his work

You dishonoured his women

You looked down on his community

You made rules, you drew lines

You cast them as outcasts

You even denigrated them as untouchables

 

The world was inventing towards bettering lives

You invented symbols of division

On your bodies, in your names, in the labour you do

Divisions put us through 200 years of slavery,

Still, you brandish the glory in these symbols

 

You made us fall short on the road laid

By our founding fathers

In the 21st century,

Mocking our democratic ethos

You vote your caste

When asked to cast your vote

In an institution of higher learning

You sacrifice young minds on the altar of a casteist society

 

Many great souls have walked on this land

Buddha, Jina, Ashoka, Akbar, Harsha, Shankara

What have we learnt oh learned wise men?

Why do you still toe into Manu’s lines of divisions?

 

For centuries, you have been learning

Still why your minds are muddled with darkness

Isn’t that a impure body is easy to clean

Rather than a impure, ignorant, narrow mind

 

Isn’t it the time we did penance for centuries of sins?

In the name of Varna & Jathi, in the name of sacred laws

Isn’t it the time to emerge out of the darkness that surrounds us?

Isn’t it the time we start being untouched by these narrow thoughts?

Isn’t it the time we celebrated as children of one god?

Isn’t it the time we broke the barriers and unite as humans?

Isn’t it the time we held each other’s hands

And forgot our world of differences?

If not now, when, oh my learned wise men?

 

Without Wax

Ash

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑