Of loving and burning...

For some reason, this piece of timeless emotion had remained a stranger to me so far. Now that I've met it, I pass it on to you --

रात आधी खींच कर मेरी हथेली 

एक ऊँगली से लिखा था प्यार, तुमने। 

फासला था कुछ हमारे बिस्तरों में 

और चारों ओर दुनिया सो रही थी।

तारिकाएँ ही गगन की जानती हैं 

जो दशा दिल की तुम्हारे हो रही थी।

मैं तुम्हारे पास हो कर दूर तुमसे 

अधजगा ओर अधसोया हुआ सा।

रात आधी खींच कर मेरी हथेली

एक ऊँगली से लिखा था प्यार, तुमने। 

एक बिजली छू गयी, सहसा जागा मैं 

कृष्णपक्षी चाँद निकला था गगन में।

इस तरह करवट पड़ी थी तुम की आंसू 

बह रहे थे इस नयन से उस नयन में।

मैं लगा दूँ आग उस संसार में 

है प्यार जिसमे इस तरह असमर्थ-कातर।

जानती हो उस समय क्या कर गुज़रने  के लिए 

था कर दिया तैयार तुमने!

रात आधी खींच कर मेरी हथेली

एक ऊँगली से लिखा था प्यार, तुमने। 

प्रात ही की ओर को है रात चलती

ओर उजाले में अँधेरा डूब जाता।

मंच ही पूरा बदलता कौन ऐसे 

खूबियों के साथ परदे को उठता।

एक चेहरा सा लगा तुमने लिया था 

ओर मैंने था उतारा एक चेहरा।

वो निशा का स्वप्न मेरा था की अपने 

पर गज़ब का था किया  अधिकार तुमने।

रात आधी खींच कर मेरी हथेली

एक ऊँगली से लिखा था प्यार, तुमने। 

और उतने फासले पर आज तक 

सौ यत्न करके भी न आये फिर कभी हम।

फिर न आया वक़्त वैसा, फिर न मौका उस तरह का 

फिर न लौटा चाँद निर्मम।

और अपनी वेदना मैं क्या बताऊँ!

क्या नहीं ये पंक्तियाँ खुद बोलती हैं?

बुझ नहीं पाया अभी तक उस समय जो 

रख दिया था हाथ पर अंगार तुमने।

रात आधी खींच कर मेरी हथेली 

एक ऊँगली से लिखा था प्यार, तुमने। 

- हरिवंश राय बच्चन 

Why it couldn't be you..

I tried, I promise -
To see in you my own growth
To see in myself a desire to take you through

You know how they say...
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere
They are in each other all along
Like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle
That a careless child had thrown about
Together despite being away
Completing, not overlapping, each other.

But-
We overlapped.

It's not that we're wrong together
It's just that we're not right
We laugh at the same things
We cry on the same ones too
Where is the friction, the challenge?

Preserving falsity

This morning's news flash screamed out a horrid incident that took place in the Narsinghpur district of Madhya Pradesh. Two dalit girls were stripped during an inspection for cheating in the class X board exams. More than 40 boys witnessed the humiliation imposed on the two girls by two female invigilators. Further, nothing was on the girls to prove the charge of cheating.

I stumbled upon this news through Facebook where a couple of my friends had posted it on their walls. The first bout of anger immediately tempted me to hit the 'share' button. I almost did it when I remembered that my contact list comprises of plenty of friends who are not Indians. What would they think of our country? Okay, I am upset over this but what would advertising of this horror achieve? Some more infamy for India? I let the mouse cursor wander elsewhere.

I am so ashamed of myself for having done this. While at a certain level I can understand the path my thought process followed, I do not agree with it. Unnecessary rationalizations. Cowardness! False pride! Shame and anger cannot and must not be selective.

This morning the auto rickshaw I was in had a rather bad accident. It clearly could have been worse since I am sitting here and writing a blog about it. Guess I was plain lucky. Even before the shock of it was through, the thought that struck my mind was - I am going to be late for work! The shock of this thought is longer lasting and worse than that of the accident itself.

Things need to be brought back into perspective.

The earth delighted in feeling my bare feet..

Footprints in the sand: I finally found mine!
Along the shore of the Bay of Bengal, Gopalpur in Ganjam district, Odisha. Feb 2012.

When the sky and the sea stared at me together, what did I do? I couldn't look them straight in the eye for as long as I wanted. They were too selfless. Too flawless. Too much at peace with themselves for me to look at them and not wonder at the churning within my self.

With the sand beneath my feet slipping back into the sea, the earth gently nudged me to say that I cannot stand in one place for too long, that it shall all pass. So I simply walked along the shore they'd all made together...

Walking on a beach is therapeutic for me. And for most, I believe. The moist sand makes a certain halo around the foot as I place it on the earth's heart. It even lets me stamp it with my feet. Soft and easy...it's like the earth is celebrating my every step. Well, the sea quickly comes and makes sure that everyone's given a clean slate to discover themselves...each time..as some wandering soul like mine rushes to seek refuge. So those footprints are quickly swept away into nothingness by one gentle wave. 

One day...I'll be able to match nature's stare unflinchingly...feel the sky wrap its arms around me...and stand there long enough to let the sea kiss my feet...and I'll curl my toes to kiss it back, like lovers who've spent aeons apart. 

A month's stock of pictures lie unclaimed, unnamed in my camera and where else. Plenty of things happened in the meantime that prevented their appearance here. They'll be right up here asap!

Fleeting connections

Jan 15: What a truly fascinating spectacle! As I raised my camera to shoot this charming bunch of people, they simultaneously raised their hands in greeting. Their spontaneity filled my heart. Later, I noted how the smiles are turned on full beam on the little boys' faces and laden with some scepticism on others. The clichéd idea of age taking its toll on innocence comes to mind...blah! I loved the moment regardless.

Faith to uphold faith

Woe to one who believes in nothing...

Jan 14: In the hollow of a tree, I noticed the entire paraphernalia utilised in worship neatly arranged...faith can really crawl in anywhere! No offence to religiously ritualistic souls but I'm not one of your clan. A diya, bottle of oil, few idols, a bowl to hold some water, few pieces of mithai...well, god definitely wouldn't go hungry, thirsty, unwashed or cold in case she decided to visit.

However, what leapt out at me from this scene was the precariousness of the way bricks were balanced to prevent wind from blowing out the flame. That got me thinking. Does faith lie in the flame or in the bricks?

Collecting memories in itself

Jan 13: Have read a few books under this tree...it's a place that has outlived experiences.

Those who insist :)

I wasn't aware that I have some loyal followers of my blog who diligently point out any lapses in regularly posting new stuff. I guess it gets so much easier to continue with projects like these when one is assured of some solid people who wouldn't hesitate to pose as 'anonymous' followers of their work, adequately expressing concern over unexplained absence of posts.

You guys know who you are so...big hug!

Here I go again :)

It's all a bit foggy now

The weather
Your memories
Joined together
Behind the fogged up window, glasses, eyes...

Togetherness meant unhinged laughter
That jog at 4 in the morning to have the dhaba chai
Couldn't see each other, so thick was the fog
Fingers entwined, to reaffirm where we belong

When the nights were long
And we didn't want them to end
The days were short
How slow the dusk seemed to descend

So carefree, seeped in esprit...

The fog now condenses to form droplets-
On the cheek of time
And your favourite crime...

My reason for you

Do you really think I want to bind you?
I know the uninhibited wanderings too well.
Do you really think I care to make you mine?
I know the urge to stay distinct, break away from walking that narrow line.
Do you think you are a joke for me?
Don't know but we laugh at it together so it doesn't matter.
Do you think I want to tame you?
Your wild heart sets me free, lets me be true.
Do you think I need your lofty promises?
I cannot keep mine so I don't want to go through the disappointment.

I can hear you ask with the arch of your brow-
Why exactly are you here then, why have you set your hand to this plough?

I'm here because you touch that raw nerve
That throbs to keep my soul's verve
You saw the restless meteors in me
Shot your own and matched their spree
To stay away and yet feel the fire
To let flow through us an unexplainable desire
You're the lightening...I'm the angry sky
I'd rather have you shoot through me than a wind that's unsure and shy
I know this wouldn't last
For the steam to release there will be a blast
That part of me will fall...spirited and fast
But come what may, the die has been cast

The flight

'...I just want to know what I can do in the air and what I can't, that's all. I just want to know.'

Jan 12: The day gave me one of the pictures closest to my heart and mind.

"He spoke of very simple things- that it is right for a gull to fly, that freedom is the very nature of his being, that whatever stands against that freedom must be set aside, be it ritual or superstition or limitation in any form."

"Set aside," came a voice from the multitude, "even if it be the Law of the Flock?"

"The only true law is that which leads to freedom," Jonathan said. "There is no other."

- Richard Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull: A Story

Opportunity lost

Jan 11: Right across the road from Siri Fort auditorium in Delhi, this man sat sharing stories with anyone who cared to listen. The excited and animated faces of people told me his stories were fascinating. When there wasn't anyone, he'd go back to tending to the fire he started....like nothing really happened in between, like he touched nobody's life in the meantime nor opened up some of his own. I wish I could sit with him a while but I hesitated.

Regret it. :(

Beyond the obvious

Jan 10: Beyond the obvious, lie myriad different colours and meanings...some solid, some fluid, some broken, some intact, some ours, some others'...but all real and valid.

The man with the green thumb

Jan 9: The local gardener. Quietly going about his business in the morning. I spoke to a gardener once (not this one) about that in his job which he loves the most. The answer was simple and moving - he doesn't shape the results of his hard work the way a sculptor does...all he does is to provide the appropriate environment for every different plant and then watch it grow. Naturally, I was prompted to ask about the worst part of his job. What he didn't like was the fact that people would open their windows to scream at him and then jam them shut again, without the tiniest effort to understand his explanation.

Sounded to me like the kind of work god does and the response he gets from us. :D

Running to be still

Jan 8: A persistently windy day. The twig pictured here is a long, thin one...it swayed with abandon with the wind. I felt a bit foolish watching it blur into action incessantly when suddenly it all stopped moving, almost with a jerk, staring at me with the look that said 'fine, click now!'. I grinned ear to ear as I quickly lifted the camera and snapped a shot. Split second and it started swinging again...like a celebrity who starts waving her neatly manicured hand after the persistent fan has taken one snapshot of hers!

I cross paths with it every day and take my time to smile at it. I think it's turning mutual.

Some non-human (yet not freakish!) company is definitely welcome!

Unbidden moments...

Letting thoughts stumble out as words
Missing most of those thoughts in the transition
Dancing on instinct
Crying for the joy of it
Hugging someone for no apparent reason
Smiling at a dog
Waving at the aeroplane
Running with a balloon
Blowing soap bubbles
Laughing for the want of it
Shopping for an ugly, super expensive hat...or pair of shoes...or bag
Missing a work deadline to binge drink
Singing loud, sure to be checked for it
Letting a mistake slip the mind
Hopping off the bus before the stand to walk rest of the way
Lying still
Rolling on the beach...or in grass
Calling up someone who's been acting ignorant
Letting the ego take some rest
Playing drums in the middle of night
Cooking at 3 in the morning
Writing a letter...pen and paper
Forgetting every other relationship for that one time
...crossing the boundaries of what's 'moral'
Hurting consciously
Melting into a moment
Kissing mid-sentence
Letting the silk of someone's absence play on the skin of the mind...

...in one brief unguarded moment.

Spaces in togetherness

'Why do two colours, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? No...'

Jan 7: Cannot recall the person who said something along the lines of there being only 3 colours, 10 digits and 7 notes. What matters is the way we use them, put them together or hold them apart. My life moves around colours...or colours move through my life...either way. So when there are joys, I picture big bold splashes of unadulterated red, yellow, blue...a sad day adds a tinge of black and grey...a big loss brings white to the picture, fading the existing brightness...coming to think of it, a big gain is white as well, dulling the blacks and greys present.

Any way, the point is that colours, just like our lives, move together...in groups, arms entwined, softly humming and producing myriad notes. When I wear the set of bangles I've photographed here, I notice the way no two bangles in it share a hue. Yet when I wear them, it's like the difference doesn't matter...they make the carefree, unpredictable, happily disunited, proud sounds as they sway up and down with the movement of my hand...a stray one casually throws its arms over the next one's shoulder while my hand is doing nothing as such, followed by a short quick laughter shared over an inside joke...

Much as we claim we find ourselves completely reflected in our partners or friends, aren't we all restlessly burning with the need to stay distinct?

Creativity untouched

Jan 6: What a set of brand new crayons, a crispy new colouring book, and committed energies of a two-year old can do :)

Upside down

Jan 5: So many things don't fit into our frameworks of sensibility. So many do. Plenty others we don't bother with. The thing is that we're often rigid about the way we think and want to think - I am, for one.

The two pictures are just one another turned upside down. And they both make perfect sense. So I'm going to try and break out of my comfort zone, of my set way of thinking...to see what lies beyond.

Those of the ordinary..

Jan 4: Lamps make committed and gorgeous subjects for photography, delivering consistently fantastic results each time. The pictures, applying even the least bit of creativity, often come out well. When I started out with this project, I decided that I wouldn't settle for clicking the same old, tried and tested things. As I lay reading one night, the lamp by my bed side looked so alluring that it forced me to think - why not! Why this running away from the seemingly mundane?

The wish to break out of the ordinary is nothing new for me...simply because I had no hand in deciding what that ordinary is. I conform but, many a time, not without questioning. It's stressful - deeply so. But satisfying - even more deeply so. In a fit of doing the regular, I clicked this picture. Such serenity stared back at me! It screamed of the promised beauty, one that I was busy denying...

Sometimes it's just about taking the first step and seeing where it'll take you. I need to tell myself that more often.

She taught me that which I have no word for

In school, I had a friend who was, as they said, an 'outlier'...different, weird, not like most of us. She piqued my curiosity instantly and, with much effort, I crossed the line of 'normalcy' to get close to her. Old friends started distancing themselves from me; I was no longer the dependable, sheer fun person. At whatever point in life we stand, we look at the years gone by as those of naivety, impulsiveness. Similarly, I can say today that at that point of time, somehow I didn't care much about this gradual but obvious alienation.

I'm not as brave today.

Any way, we never became close friends in the conventional sense of the term. The most I can say is that I became the only person in school she wouldn't frown at all the time. For me, she became the only one, outside of my family, I felt most protective about- I've still not been able to find any other way of putting my feelings towards her. I still think she did much more for me than I ever could for her. While it was second nature to me to express my feelings exactly, she had to make herculean efforts, I clearly knew, to show me that she cared. So, for instance, in the two years of my knowing her, I never lost a single piece of stationery (something I was almost habitual at doing) - I misplaced stuff almost every week but she had mysterious, almost magical, ways of recovering them for me. A guardian angel sort of thing, to put it tritely. Coming to think of it now, she was more natural than I at the business of caring about someone.

I noticed these things much later. At that time, I was too busy feeling almost smug about being the one she considered herself close to, like I'd achieved something or someone unconquerable, impenetrable. When I think of it now, I never really knew much about her. Her family was disturbed in many ways, that much I know. Even to get that out of her was a mini feat. I remember she was very particular about maintaining a record of each and every rupee she ever lent anyone...and recovering it; used to write it down on the last page of our school diary. She never wrote down what I owed her, monetarily at least. As a reflex action, it kept adding up in my mind what I needed to return to her wallet. Thirteen rupees - I'll never forget that. 

One Saturday afternoon, I'd just come back from school and got a phone call from a classmate. She was no more. They said she took an overdose of the sleeping pills her mother used to keep in the cabinet. I'd just met her in school and said a 'see you on Monday!' to her. 

To start with, I felt betrayed. Then contemplation, confusion. Pain of loss. Eventually, vacuum. I didn't cry. I still haven't. The shock must've been too great because I know it's not that I didn't care. She raised that pang in me that I don't know will ever subside. Those 13 rupees she left with me tell me we were close, still are. That's the money I'd give anything to return...and give anything to hold on closely to, at the same time. 

Two years...we didn't hold hands or hug even once. 

How often have we thought like this?

...and we go on being cynical, day in and day out. People dream- let's let them.

Life without lies?

We hanker after truth, like there's one truth for anything. There are truths, truths of different kind. 


I think that I wouldn't be fiercely interested in a life where no one around me ever lies. One where I am absolutely truthful to myself and others. Such predictability! Such boredom?


Just imagine being told that you're loved...wouldn't one want to live under the shadow of doubt for a while in order to emerge sure about the feeling? If no one ever lied, if no one ever backed out of a commitment, we'd quickly reach the reliability we seek in most things we want. And then? What does one do with that point of arrival? Where does one go from there? In order to move anywhere, that truth will have to be proven false, only partially, if you're lucky. If that doesn't happen, we'll begin to dissolve into inaction of the mind, heart and body- how long can we go on thinking, feeling, moving around the same thing? We need to be awake to see anything as alive and real- people, relationships, nature, pets! You have to be there, invest yourself, be on your toes, you have to see another through their lies to know their truth. Let them be unpredictable. 


All of this must happen if we seek that blissful placidity...where we know where we stand, who we are, how much and what we can take. What's growth if we're not constantly getting stretched to be more than we are?

Keeping with this, I'm  gifted with people who make my life interesting. Perfect situations must go wrong.

To do or not to do...

Nothing will work unless we do

Jan 3: In the midst of wanting some time off, longing to clear out my mind and run a little slow, I've sometimes forgotten how fortunate I am to have enough work to want a break from. Being busy is good, I've no doubt about that. Had a break up? Seep yourself in work. Feeling useless? Get busy. Want to introspect? Recoil, let your work build a wall around you. Time and again we've all turned to work to make up for a loss, give form to pieces of our lives, and construct meaning out of a life falling apart. (Not to mention the way we use it as an excuse to skip meeting annoying acquaintances and relatives, attend uninteresting gatherings et al!)

So today I want to crib a little less about being busy and packed with work. It's a luxury not everybody gets to afford.

I'm not afraid to break...

...it tells me I'm alive
Dauntless to take risks
Keeping my heart open
To hurt and love as deep
No, I refuse to grow up
If it means making my heart picky
To think before I feel
That business has always been for me tricky

So my eyes well up when I see love in motion
Leaping out of slumber into bright, fiery agitation

My heart does a little dance-

Seeing the way ma and papa only get more selfless each day
...when they tell me they know how high I'll fly

With the carefree jiggle of street children

Exchanging smiles with an absolute stranger

Juggling chores to fit in some more time with my niece
...to hear her oft illegible words, feel her fingers clasp mine

To see a parent clown around to amuse their child

Hearing that one line in a song that sounds custom-written for me

Sitting through those few seconds in a touching commercial

Having grandparents who only know how to spoil me too much
...hugging tight their frail frames to feel their fading touch

Talking to an old chum after an age
...sounding like it's the best thing we've both done in a while

Knowing a few amazing people never tire of getting my back

Hearing a composition rise in beautiful crescendo

Giving a high five to a colleague over a task well accomplished

Finding friendship coming from strange quarters

Sharing a random hug

Seeing a young couple madly hopeful
...a middle aged one a sight of strength
...an old one stubbornly holding on

Being embraced in honest rapture

In the moment I close my eyes and kiss
...life seems too precious to miss

Happiness is a choice
A choice not as easy as it seems
It needs us to be brave
Make ourselves vulnerable
To feel
To hurt
To break

I've got broken some times too
In places where emotions felt the safest
It's not just when people close to me give a kick in the gut
...somehow that's easier to take
It's every time meanness clouds the good
When those who can't defend themselves are pushed further to the brink
When the thought 'at least that's not me!' does nothing to soothe the heart
When things seem somewhat beyond my control
When I've kept quiet because I pondered too long
When helplessness surrounds...

But I'd go on keeping this heart yield to feeling
Nursing open wounds, not relenting
They say we're strongest in the places we break
Let it be so then, I'm not afraid to ache.

There?

Is it you there?
Or is it just me alone?
You make my head spin,
But my head's never spun this perfectly before.

Finding chimes with each other

...almost a genetic imperative that we huddle together and hold on to each other...

Jan 2: So last evening's rain made Delhi a bit more cold than the past few days have been. Strolling in the  park during lunch hour at work, came across this family trying to protect themselves and each other from the chill.

Made me think of the way these days we hardly get together in old fashioned, almost primitive ways. We huddle together in buses, metros, traffic, escalators, elevators, social networking sites...the way we now have to find time to do nothing as such, not be in a rush to start from and reach somewhere...

Now I'm too young to have a slower-paced age gone by to lament about. Plus I see nothing wrong with these new, modern technological ways of being together. Things change, ways change. But it would've been nice, I think, to forget wearing the wrist watch one morning and not stress about it (for argument's sake, leave aside the clock in the cell phone!)...

A thousand fibres tie us to each other, so...connect, reconnect- that'll be two of the buzz words for the days my year would unfold. 

A love so pure

Jan 1: I've claimed to myself and others earlier that I know what love is all about...or at least bits of it that matter at my age. Been in relationships where happiness came naturally, most of the time. Or so I wanted to think. All of that changed pretty soon-

My niece came to us two years back and every single day since I first held her in my arms has been one where I've known love in more wholesome forms. This is the first time the word 'love' fits the feeling perfectly- unconditional and ceaseless. I became a mother without any labour pain!

I've grown up and grown down...both through and with her...

Life in a day...every day

Here it goes- my Project 365(6)!

I'll capture my life over the next 366 days with one photograph each of those days. The overarching theme these pictures will hover around will be 'companionship'.