As the time ends, tum hi batao ki...

22 December, for some reason, has been a special date in my life... many important events have taken place on this date.

Last year, on this day, I had my thesis seminar... and immediately before that, a final communication, a lot of pain, crying, and also a new determination...

One year hence, life has a new meaning altogether... ab tum hi batao naa -

घर नया कपड़े नये बर्तन नये
इन पुराने कागज़ों का क्या करें

फ़ुर्सत के फ़ितूर...

I'm in Delhi today. And I can repeat this sentence tomorrow and day after as well. I'll be attending a conference tomorrow onwards so had to land up in the city which I have loved, hated, loved, hated, and so on... Perhaps the harsh memories associated with Delhi are too diluted by time... and that reminds me that Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Malaysia, and many more places are yet to redeem themselves.

So I am here in Qutub institutional area, somewhere near JNU. Probably North Campus of DU is nearby. I'm glad that South Campus is far away.... O-Oh.... here it comes... nothing is too diluted by time. That day is still alive inside me with all its sunshine.

Have to go to the conference dinner in the evening and thanks to that, I have had some leisure time after so long. Had a nice siesta and heard some good old songs. Done with ironing clothes too- five shirts, two trousers, two ties, and a blazer (yes, I have a long trip coming and a load of wrinkled clothes). Some two more hours of life at hand... perhaps a good opportunity to look up and correct some of my incomplete poems. Or may be I can write diary - have not written anything since July.

O-Oh.... here it comes again... Perhaps, I should do just nothing in order to avoid such dangerous things like poetry, diary writing, thinking etc. After all, all of this will turn the train of time back and I will start crumbling again. I am taking my baby steps in a new life and I want to live with no baggage of history... That is why I had decided to start afresh - from a place where there was no past, no burden, no obligation. Perhaps I should also quit blogging in order to stop visiting those places. Perhaps I should also be dead... like everybody else.

Weltschmerz

Constructing an ideal world within one's mind and comparing it with the existing world leads to a state of mind that is called Weltschmerz. It is a German word and I wonder how this time another word in another language comes to define life for me.

Once upon a time it was Koyaanisqatsi - meaning "life out of balance", a word in Hopi language of Aztecs of Arizonian desert and much before, it was Adios Amigos, Spanish for bidding adieu to friends.

I also remember Gokurousama - "Thank you for your troubles" in Japanese. Well...!!

These days, Time is the only thing I find as the biggest constraint and hence most precious too. As a direct consequence, I have been away from writing. However, I have not been away from thinking. In fact, this is a high tide time in thinking ocean. Once this tide settles and the ocean of thought pacifies, I plan and hope to be more disciplined with my time and more regular in writing here, there, and everywhere... but till then, let us live with koyaanisqatsi and with Weltschmerz. Gokurousama!!

Who said 'I Love You' on my feedback?!!

So I got my teaching feedback....

The short story is that after joining Economics faculty of IIM Indore, I began teaching Microeconomics to two sections of PGP (a.k.a. MBA) first term. I handled only the post mid-term part - reason - less load to new kid on the block. And as the maddening pace of teaching, quizzes, and exam ended, I rushed to submit the final grades as soon as I could and began waiting for my first official feedback. And after a lot of dillydally, snatched my feedback forms from the program office.

185 ratings on a scale of 0 to 9. It was fun reading through those anonymous feedback forms - love, hate, sympathy, encouragement, preaching, advice, blanks, and what not. Some want me to be less friendly, more authoritative, more strict, less interactive.... and some want me to be more open and more communicative. Some want another book, more cases, more sessions, only lectures and some want only powerpoint slides and lesser attention to details. Some suggest me to prepare more and be more confident and some think I am very clear with concepts and very enthusiastic and confident.

I am not sure which group to believe. In fact, one section is clearly ahead of the other in praising and supporting me. The solace is that despite this being my first attempt at teaching an IIM PGP class, I scored reasonably well. However, there are some comments I can't resist sharing. Like one guy thinks I am a total jerk and should quit teaching. He seemed so pissed off, I hope he doesn't demand a refund. But that was the lowest score-giver. Some others thought I am nice, friendly, approachable, energetic, and putting some real hard work. In fact, one girl gave me a 10 on a scale of 0 to 9. Evidently, that is some girl, as the comments afterward suggest that I am cute and lovable. On second thoughts, I wish that is not a guy.

XKCD

There is Wisdom and there is profound wisdom. And then there is XKCD.

XKCD isn't an abbreviation. It is a web-comic, created by an erstwhile NASA scientist - Randall Munroe. As obvious, the strips are full of comp-sci, tech, mathematics, geeky themes. But there also are movies, love, sex, the life, universe, and everything. Here are some of my favorites - all from XKCD.

This one helped a lot in making a choice between corporate and academia ;)

and here is the reason of all my problems -
looking for meaning in wrong places, e.g. - in the world.

and one more thing - its more fun on the website coz as you scroll over the comic strip, there is another fun-liner. Like this one -

Ahh... these truths of life. And how am I gonna encounter this one too - soon :(

Indeed... I tried matching logic with love but then, only their beginnings are common -
after two letter, they are different words and different worlds.

I wonder how 'real' the comic is. or rather, how comic my 'real' life is!!

Who breaks the thread

Today, I was in the process of updating my contact address and phone number with my insurance company. For user confirmation, they asked my most memorable date. I told them the date. I also wanted to tell them that why that date was the most memorable. I wanted to tell them that that date will always remain the most memorable. I wanted to tell them that there is a most forgettable date also. But at the end, I just told them the date and they thanked me for it.

And then, in one of my friends' notes, there was this line -

Who breaks the thread -
the one who pulls, the one who holds on?

Yes! I know that I pulled the thread. I pulled it and kept pulling. When I was done pulling, I realized that the other end was already left lose. They were already gone long before they were gone. And I am left there with some dates, lots of threads, and yet another mourning...

wasn't there some couplet like
रिश्तों की डोर किसी तरह सुलझती ही नहीं
खत जला डालिये मगर तहरीर तो जलती ही नहीं

Whattay 'Diary'able life

This week, my shopping list includes ‘diary’ also. One more (poetry) diary got over. I don’t understand it - the lesser I seem to write, the quicker it seems to get over. Perhaps quantity has given way to quality. In that sense, it truly reflects my life. In either case, I was happier with a lot less.

That was about the poetry diary. And the ‘diary’ diary?

I no longer write the personal diary. There used to be a need to talk to myself. The need is more than ever now. There used to be a time to talk to myself. The time is lesser than ever now. In the past few instances, I wrote few lines – just a few random updates. And then, the life stopped - for the past one year or so, there isn’t nothing to write about but not anything that I wish to record.

Sometimes, I think I should burn down all my diaries... just like I did with my life. I wish if my beloveds could do this, just the way they did with my life.

My blabbering on this blog has become very dejecting for so long now… So here is happy thought…

:

:

:

:

:

Oh Ohhh..... there is None!!!

Life is not calling... where am I??

On this day, one year ago, Life changed...
or was it 16 days later?!!
It changed and it changed in steps
it changed in bits and pieces
and then, it changed fully.

They say, life keeps changing...
For me, it changed too
but then it never changed.

Life happens just once in a lifetime.
And when it changes, there is no way
but to move on...
and to move on
without life...!!

I write and I don't

I can always write about

• The one I loved
• Narcissus (means yours truly)
  
• IIMA
• The things I want to do in life
  
• The things I couldn't do in life
• Traveling places
• F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
  
• Lucknow

I always want to write about but never do

• Films
  
• Books
• Politics and Policy
  
• Religion and Mythology
• Poetry
• Economy and Economics
• The Bitches and The Bastards
  

I never want to write about

• How can I write about the things I don't want to write about :P
  

The girl in the painting

Long long back, my didi painted her. She stayed in my room for three years before didi got married and took her to her new home. I felt as if that wall was also alone without her.

On my next birthday, when didi asked what do I want, i asked if she could return back. Didi happily obliged us both :)

For the past ten years, she is there. But for the past five years, she is again alone as I was in Ahmedabad.

Now I have enough empty walls in my home in Indore but somehow, she has become a part of my room back at home in Lucknow.

Whether she is with me or not, she will always remain the most beautiful and cherished painting of my life.

It is just a coincidence that she is a painting. She could have been a person as well. I think she is.

परछाईयां

The preparation of a new a-picture-a-day series on my photo blog lead to a new poem today.

ये साये
ये परछाईयां,
ये कहते हैं शायद -
कि ज़िन्दगी फ़कत
तारीकियों का मजमा है
या कि सायों से निशां
रोशनी के मिलते हैं!

ज़िन्दगी के दौर भी
परछाईयों से
होते हैं -
कभी सुबूत-ए-रौशनी
कभी तारीकियों की आवाज़ें!

कुछ तेरी याद के साये हैं यहाँ
कुछ मेरे यारों के निशां
चंद ख्वाबों के अक्स हैं शायद
और कुछ एक हैं खयाल-ए-निहाँ!

आज माज़ी का खज़ाना सारा -
ये शौक उल्फ़त का
ये ज़ख्म तेरी यादों के
ये खेल रोशनी-तारीकी का
दुनिया को दिखाया जाये
आज यादों के समन्दर को
उलीचा जाये!

Samay O......... Dheere Chalo...!!!

This random song player is a wonderful thing. It knows which songs to play when.

Late last night, one of my closest friends - Parimal - called up to ask if I remember his high-school crush, who lived nearby. Withstanding my reputation, I did remember all her details that were known to us. He found her through Facebook photo tags in some common friend's album. He, in fact, also discovered that her name is slightly different from what we always thought it to be. Although they got talking further but she is a different person now... long gone the cute girl in her school dress and pigtail.

I sometimes wonder how Emma looks like now!! Thinking of her, it hardly matters now. In my inner world, she is always the same Emma - in her pink-gray uniform, small black wristwatch, calm demeanor, and killer smile :D. May be, some day I too will find her tagged in some album... and then, who knows - may be another blog post!!

Today morning, I switched on some music on my laptop and was just roaming in the house, thinking of all those talks of last night. And then, the 'random' player digged out this long lost ghazal - "koi chaudahavi raat ka chaand ban kar..." This was the first ghazal I ever heard - a late summer night, sitting on the banks of Gomti, listening it in Parimal's voice, and imagining Emma.

As the track ended and the initial music of the next track began, I prayed it not to be the one... but it was. It was "teri khushboo mein base khat main jalaata kaise" - the ghazal I heard first during the days of 'moving on'. I heard this one too with million thoughts - happy that Emma happened, sad that I never had Emma, and philosophical for I will always have Emma.

The next track playing was "samay o..... dheere chalo"

The thermocol ball

Today, I found one of those in my pocket again - the thermocol ball.

In our final days at IIMA, it was summer training time for PGPs and I was alone in my dorm. I slept at my usual 2-2.30 in the morning and was dreaming peacefully with the morning breeze setting in. And suddenly I had to jump out of my bed as there was a loud bang on my door. I was tired, half asleep, half awake, confused, and scared to hell - did I hear it right? Was the banging in my dream or for real? Who could beat the door so brutally? Is it some robber or is it some watchman? Is it some ghost from the horror movie I was watching before sleep? Somehow I gathered some courage and shouted with a dry throat - who is this - who is there...

Scared to death, I opened the door with a blank mind. There was no one except utter darkness and then there was

-->light giggling. Trying hard to regain my senses, I saw two of my friends coming out of the dark and laughing their guts out. It was the farewell night for one of the first friends I met at IIMA. I joined happily into the group of two for waking up more friends around the campus and bidding farewell with senti speeches. After some time, the three of us came back and sat chatting in her room. There was a bean-bag whose seem was torn and thermocol balls were pouring out of it. We played around with those balls - pouring bucketfuls at each other, rubbing hands on them to see the crazy run of thermocol balls.
Some 3 hours later, we dropped her to station with a promise of meeting some day soon. For many days afterwards, those thermocol balls kept popping out of my pockets and from various corners of my room... and as I wore the same pants again today, another ball popped out of the pocket. Perhaps this was one last thermocol ball that survived washing and there may not be any more balls popping out like this.... but memories.... of that night and all those years that made that night so valuable.... oh those will always keep popping out...!!!

This time shall pass

During my last days at IIMA, my best friend told me a story of Akbar and Birbal. Akbar asked Birbal what words would he say to make a laughing man cry and a crying man laugh. Birbal replied - This time shall pass.

I have taken most important decisions of my life in a flash - be it leaving Colvin Taluqdars' for taking commerce or leaving IRMA or leaving life behind and jumping in a void. These sudden flash decisions gave me a tough time for many days but in retrospect, those were the most cherished days. In the language of Calvin and Hobbes, they built my character.

I had taken another flash decision few days back and I left everything that was there. I guess I am still in the period where my character is being built. I hope that in retrospect, this time will also be cherished. Once, honored ustaad Sheen Kaaf Nizaam sahib told me - "Siddharth hi rahna, Buddh na ban jaana". I guess for the time being, I am defying the honored ustaad... but then, This time shall pass!!

It's better to burn out than to fade away.

"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy."

Albert Camus in The Myth of Sisyphus

For quite sometime now, I have been pondering over it - Suicide. And Camus, as one of my favorite authors, has definitely obliged. But as always, Camus enlightened me with the questions and Hermann Hesse with insights. This is what he says in Steppenwolf -

"The suicide, and Harry was one, need not necessarily live in a peculiarly close relationship to death. One may do this without being a suicide. What is peculiar to the suicide is that... he is always exposed to an extraordinary risk, as though he stood with the slightest foothold on the peak of a crag whence a slight push from without or an instant's weakness from within suffices to precipitate him into the void.

For us they are suicides nonetheless; for they see death and not life as the releaser. They are ready to cast themselves away in surrender, to be extinguished and to go back to the beginning."

I do not feel like saying much - मैं कुछ कहता नहीं खुद से, कहीं कोई गलतफ़हमी न हो जाये!! Just that I am an optimist and I love life... or should it be a sentence in past tense? I have lived, I have lost, I have loved, I have lost, I have won, I have lost, and at the end of it all, I have lost. But then, I am not going to fade away... I will burn out... some day... some night!!!

In any case, Suicide -what a Goddamn silly thing to do. I wont even get to watch their faces - the face of those heartless destiny bitches. Dying is an art, like everything else and I do it exceptionally well, like everything else. And that is why, I die moment by moment... but elegantly and with a laugh, standing on the peak of the crag of life.

वो जो शायर था
बहकी-बहकी सी बातें करता था
चाँद से गिर के मर गया है वो
लोग कहते हैं ख़ुदकुशी की है

Seriously, is Life worth living, especially when it is without 'Life'??

P.S. - The title of this post is due to Neil Young, a Canadian singer - lyricist. This line is often mis-attributed to Curt Cobain, who used it in his suicide note.

The problem of reading too much

I, like almost everyone else, want and like to believe that my life is unique - the situations, the experiences, the struggles, the wins, the falls, and the memories - everything is uniquely mine. But then, there lies the problem with reading literature - I know that all my life has been lived many times before. In bits and pieces, somebody somewhere has been through all this and that is how one man's misery became another man's literature.

However, my problem is slightly bigger than just pieces of my life being in someone else's story. My problem is of reading too much of it. As a consequence, every time I face a situation, something or the other from some long forgotten piece of literature pops up inside my head and tells me how un-unique and clichéd my life is (and perhaps so is the life of all of us). Copying some pieces of the pieces of literature here, which I remember frequently and realize the problem of reading too much...

राम ने सीता को छोड़ा, कृष्ण ने राधा को, बुद्ध ने यशोधरा को, तो दुष्यन्त ने शकुन्तला को, नल ने दमयन्ती को और भतृहरि ने पिंगला को... इसलिए समर प्रभा को छोड़कर भागने के सांस्कृतिक अभिशाप की नियति से बँधा है। मुझे अक्सर आश्चर्य होता है कि हमारे यहाँ वे कहानियाँ क्यों महाकाव्यों का आधार नहीं बनीं, जहाँ मानवीय प्यार के लिये समाज से विद्रोह किया गया हो।

राजेन्द्र यादव, हंस

तुम ठीक ही कह रहे हो। 'टाइम इज़ द ग्रेटेस्ट हीलर।' असल में समय के साथ कुछ हद तक सब ठीक ही हो गया है। हम अपनी-अपनी दुनिया में हैं। पर हम पेड़ नहीं हैं कि इस पतझड़ के बाद फिर से वसंत आयेगा। बीता समय अंग-भंग की तरह है। उसकी क्षतिपूर्ति नहीं हो सकती। स्थितियों के साथ समझौता ही किया जा सकता है। अगर रहना है तो स्थितियों के मुताबिक ढलना होता है। अपनी कमी को स्वीकार करना होता है। अहं और आक्रामकता ज़िन्दगी नहीं है।

पंकज बिष्ट, उस गोलार्द्ध में

मैं मामूली आदमी नहीं हूँ। मैनें अपराध किये हैं, करता हूँ, झूठ बोलता हूँ, धोखा देता हूँ। सब करते हैं, सब बोलते हैं, सब देते हैं। पर वे अपराधी महसूस नहीं करते, मैं करता हूँ। समाज का अपराध-बोध मैं अपनी रगों में लिये भटक रहा हूँ।

मृदुला गर्ग, मैं और मैं

मैं सोचता बहुत था। यह मेरा स्वभाव बनता जा रहा था कि मैं जब कभी अकेला होता तो कुछ देर पहले घटित घटनाओं के बारे में सोचता रहता। हर कही-सुनी बात का एक-एक शब्द सोचता, पड़ताल करता। फिर अच्छी बातें एक कोने में बैठ जातीं और खराब बातें मकड़ी की भाँति टेंशन का जाला बुनकर मुझे फँसा लेतीं। यह सब सोचकर मुझे बहुत अच्छा लगता था। इस प्रकार सोचना मेरी खुराक थी। मैं रोटी बिना ज़िन्दा रह सकता हूँ पर सोच के बिना नहीं।

सिमरदीप सिंह, जटा शंकर

उसे लगा, उसके प्रेम के क्षण नितांत उसके अपने थे - ह्रदय में कहीं बहुत गहरे संजोकर रखे हुए। उन क्षणों को इस प्रकार उघाड़कर किसी के भी सामने रख देना उचित तो नहीं था। वह 'किसी' चाहे केतकी ही क्यूँ न हो। उसका वह प्रेम, चाहे असफ़ल ही सही, उसके लिये आज भी सम्मान की वस्तु था।

नरेन्द्र कोहली, प्रीति-कथा

And this is just a tip of the iceberg, as there are so many more pieces of my life that others have lived in fact and in fiction... and I am just collecting it... living life in bits and pieces!!

Two poems and a song

The task for you - connect these.
Hint - you cannot 'cause you are not sitting inside my head.

-------

This one was published in Lucknow Times circa 1999, written by Agnimitra. It remained a favorite for long. Today, whatever be the poetic value, I treasure this one especially for last few lines.

Who Knows?

You don't know love!
Who are you attached with?
Someone who has become ferocious
Struggling with time and life.
Someone who can now do all those things
That were beyond his own imagination once.
Someone who is broken now
In quest of a true and faithful heart
And hence, converted himself into a villain.
Someone who was once a noble person
And could've been a loving caring father
But God deprived him from a true touch of love
And he, therefor, is what he was destined to be.
Someone who cried countless times
Before God and God didn't hear.
Someone who tried several times
To smilebut cheat friends never let him.
Someone who has now caught a habit - a very bad one
Of ending everything that comes in his way.
Hence, beware dear! beware of me
'Cause I don't know myself
What'll be my next step and when?
May be it would be the sad demise
Of You and your love dear!
Who knows!

-------

This is a masterpiece by a maestro on Hindi literature and I don't know how many times I have read it in distressed times to gain strength and draw inspiration.

क्योंकि सपना है अभी भी / धर्मवीर भारती

...क्योंकि सपना है अभी भी

इसलिए तलवार टूटी अश्व घायल
कोहरे डूबी दिशाएं
कौन दुश्मन, कौन अपने लोग, सब कुछ धुंध धूमिल
किन्तु कायम युद्ध का संकल्प है अपना अभी भी
...क्योंकि सपना है अभी भी!

तोड़ कर अपने चतुर्दिक का छलावा
जब कि घर छोड़ा, गली छोड़ी, नगर छोड़ा
कुछ नहीं था पास बस इसके अलावा
विदा बेला, यही सपना भाल पर तुमने तिलक की तरह आँका था
(एक युग के बाद अब तुमको कहां याद होगा?)
किन्तु मुझको तो इसी के लिए जीना और लड़ना
है धधकती आग में तपना अभी भी
....क्योंकि सपना है अभी भी!

तुम नहीं हो, मैं अकेला हूँ मगर
वह तुम्ही हो जो
टूटती तलवार की झंकार में
या भीड़ की जयकार में
या मौत के सुनसान हाहाकार में
फिर गूंज जाती हो

और मुझको
ढाल छूटे, कवच टूटे हुए मुझको
फिर तड़प कर याद आता है कि
सब कुछ खो गया है - दिशाएं, पहचान, कुंडल,कवच
लेकिन शेष हूँ मैं, युद्धरत् मैं, तुम्हारा मैं
तुम्हारा अपना अभी भी

इसलिए, तलवार टूटी, अश्व घायल
कोहरे डूबी दिशाएं
कौन दुश्मन, कौन अपने लोग, सब कुछ धूंध धुमिल
किन्तु कायम युद्ध का संकल्प है अपना अभी भी
... क्योंकि सपना है अभी भी!


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And a song by my old favorite - Cliff Richard - quoting lyrics here (find video here)

We don't talk anymore

Used to think that life was sweet
Used to think we were so complete
I can't believe you'd throw it away

Used to feel we had it made
Used to feel we could sail away
Can you imagine how I feel today?

Well, it seems a long time ago you were the lonely one
Now it comes to letting go you are the only one
Do you know what you've done?

It's so funny how we don't talk anymore
It's so funny why we don't talk anymore
But I ain't losing sleep and I ain't counting sheep
It's so funny how we don't talk anymore

Well, it really doesn't matter to me
I guess your leaving was meant to be
It's down to you now you wanna be free
Well, I hope you know which way to go
You're on your own again
And don't come crying to me when you're the lonely one
Remember what you've done

It's so funny how we don't talk anymore
It's so funny why we don't talk anymore
But I ain't losing sleep and I ain't counting sheep
It's so funny how we don't talk anymore

It's so funny how we don't talk anymore