After spending 24 years of my life in Lucknow, I spent another 5 in Ahmedabad and now, Indore will be the third city of my life. I don't know how the city is and how would it treat me - I am open to the experience and the good, the bad, and not so ugly of it.
Strange thing is that I miss Ahmedabad these days, not only for the love of IIMA but also for the general vibrant life and character of the city. Once, sitting in Bombay, someone had asked, how is Ahmedabad. I replied, take all the distances, crowd, and daily struggles from Bombay and it becomes Ahmedabad. I, like many of my friends and colleagues, feel that Ahmedabad is one of the best cities to live in India.
Even more strangely, I am progressively getting disenchanted with Lucknow. This is not the city I had left five years ago. The city has changed - it's places have changed, it's people have changed, and most of all, it's culture has changed. The city I left five years ago was, just like today, neither very disciplined nor very safe. But the city I come to today is definitely unbearably undisciplined, rude, crowded, and damn unsafe. Perhaps, the political culture of UP has taken it's toll on the life and culture of it's capital city. After spending a 10 days' vacation in Lucknow, I am glad for not getting a job in Lucknow!!
I don't know what lies ahead but I wish to be sad upon leaving Indore, whenever I do, just like I was and I am sad upon leaving Ahmedabad!!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Narcissist Blogger
Years ago, talking about poetry, a friend had said, how can I read my own writing so passionately when he couldn't read his own? And I replied - may be because I write well! Well, that was a reply in light humor and although I was not sure back then, I think I can say that now.
3 years and 131 posts later, my blog is full of things I have no recollection of (at least till I read that again). It has become sort of a diary of my life - full of memorable and forgotten chapters. And these days, one of my favorite pastimes is to surf through my blog randomly. And frankly, I shall not be blamed for stepping another step of narcissism. I tried reading random blogs and pages but they were not at all about my life and times.
Here are some of my favorite posts, which I read time and again and always like them... I must have missed some good ones and might be, some not-so-good ones are listed up here but then, I am always an epsilon to perfect ;)
3 years and 131 posts later, my blog is full of things I have no recollection of (at least till I read that again). It has become sort of a diary of my life - full of memorable and forgotten chapters. And these days, one of my favorite pastimes is to surf through my blog randomly. And frankly, I shall not be blamed for stepping another step of narcissism. I tried reading random blogs and pages but they were not at all about my life and times.
Here are some of my favorite posts, which I read time and again and always like them... I must have missed some good ones and might be, some not-so-good ones are listed up here but then, I am always an epsilon to perfect ;)
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The man who was written by his poems
Sometimes, men write poetry. Sometimes, poetry writes men.
I wrote a poem long long ago - perhaps the only one which was about me, for me, and by me. That poem seemed true to me back then and that poem seems truer to me today. It had some lines like
इन्किलाबो-जुनूँ से भरा इक जवाँ
कैसे टूटा थका आदमी रह गया
I wrote it in a very different spirit - at a very spiritual level. The philosophical meaning was true much before the words were written but now, the poetic thought has become truer so much so to decide my fate and thoughts.
Similarly, one of my poems ends with
रुपहली हो चली उस ज़ुल्फ़ की रंगत,
घटा से चाँद भी कुछ निकला आता है
I had written these lines for some 30 years later for my retirement day but once written, the words decided to be the truth some 30 years too early.
The irony is not limited to yours truly. It extended to relationships. When I wrote
कम से कम अपनी बेरुखी से मुझे,
अपनी नफ़रत से महरूँ न करो
or this
बिना किसी भी सवाली-जवाबी गफ़लत के
ज़िन्दगी भर को
गैर कर देना
She did not disappoint these lines. She bestowed her hatred and estranged me... forever!!
Thankfully, my poems had some good thoughts too.
For Gulzar, I had written
कहीं मिल जाये वो
तो हाथ ही बस
चूम लूँ उसके
and when I did meet him, I did (well, not exactly kissed his hands but shook hands and then he hugged me... so soft and so sweet and so simple he is :) )
And a hope with these lines
मेरे कमरे में धूप की मानिन्द
आओ तुम रौशनी खुशबू
हरारतें लेकर
but I am scared too... what if these lines come true before other lines
रात कल
रात की रग
सुनते हुए
अपनी रग काट
सो गया है
वो!!
That may sound like a problem but well... it would solve a lot of other problems!
I wrote a poem long long ago - perhaps the only one which was about me, for me, and by me. That poem seemed true to me back then and that poem seems truer to me today. It had some lines like
इन्किलाबो-जुनूँ से भरा इक जवाँ
कैसे टूटा थका आदमी रह गया
I wrote it in a very different spirit - at a very spiritual level. The philosophical meaning was true much before the words were written but now, the poetic thought has become truer so much so to decide my fate and thoughts.
Similarly, one of my poems ends with
रुपहली हो चली उस ज़ुल्फ़ की रंगत,
घटा से चाँद भी कुछ निकला आता है
I had written these lines for some 30 years later for my retirement day but once written, the words decided to be the truth some 30 years too early.
The irony is not limited to yours truly. It extended to relationships. When I wrote
कम से कम अपनी बेरुखी से मुझे,
अपनी नफ़रत से महरूँ न करो
or this
बिना किसी भी सवाली-जवाबी गफ़लत के
ज़िन्दगी भर को
गैर कर देना
She did not disappoint these lines. She bestowed her hatred and estranged me... forever!!
Thankfully, my poems had some good thoughts too.
For Gulzar, I had written
कहीं मिल जाये वो
तो हाथ ही बस
चूम लूँ उसके
and when I did meet him, I did (well, not exactly kissed his hands but shook hands and then he hugged me... so soft and so sweet and so simple he is :) )
And a hope with these lines
मेरे कमरे में धूप की मानिन्द
आओ तुम रौशनी खुशबू
हरारतें लेकर
but I am scared too... what if these lines come true before other lines
रात कल
रात की रग
सुनते हुए
अपनी रग काट
सो गया है
वो!!
That may sound like a problem but well... it would solve a lot of other problems!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Koyaanisqatsi
Koyaanisqatsi means "life out of balance". It is a word in Hopi language of Aztecs of Arizonian desert. I wonder how weird can people get in coining words. I also wonder how weirdly I encounter such words at the exact time, when I need them the most. Although I keep forgetting words and often fumble for the appropriate vocabulary in general conversations, koyaanisqatsi is the word I must have been looking at this moment.
Six years ago, I could not imagine studying at IIMA. Five years ago, I could not imagine living away from home sweet home so easily. Four years ago, I could not imagine surviving IIMA. Three years ago, I could not imagine a thesis topic falling in my lap like that. Two years ago, I could not imagine completing my thesis ever. Just one year ago, I could not imagine that life can go wrong anywhere. And yet, here I am, where I cannot imagine that this is actually happening. I cannot imagine that now life will get right anywhere... ever!!
I am alone and I am lonely, unsatisfied and stranded in almost every aspect of life. I often argued with friends that just by being positive, patient, and persistent, life will get on the right track, that life will find the desired paths, that life will set itself right. I realize now how frivolous my argument was. I realize how hollow my hopes were. I was out of balance, for I was so damn positive and optimistic in the worst phases of life. I forgot I can fall from such a height. The fact is, the higher you fly, the harder you fall. I am again out of balance for so much hopelessness.
I wonder how they coined the term and I am living it. Koyaanisqatsi forever!
Six years ago, I could not imagine studying at IIMA. Five years ago, I could not imagine living away from home sweet home so easily. Four years ago, I could not imagine surviving IIMA. Three years ago, I could not imagine a thesis topic falling in my lap like that. Two years ago, I could not imagine completing my thesis ever. Just one year ago, I could not imagine that life can go wrong anywhere. And yet, here I am, where I cannot imagine that this is actually happening. I cannot imagine that now life will get right anywhere... ever!!
I am alone and I am lonely, unsatisfied and stranded in almost every aspect of life. I often argued with friends that just by being positive, patient, and persistent, life will get on the right track, that life will find the desired paths, that life will set itself right. I realize now how frivolous my argument was. I realize how hollow my hopes were. I was out of balance, for I was so damn positive and optimistic in the worst phases of life. I forgot I can fall from such a height. The fact is, the higher you fly, the harder you fall. I am again out of balance for so much hopelessness.
I wonder how they coined the term and I am living it. Koyaanisqatsi forever!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Some more random thoughts
What is the title of this post?? Is it "some more + random thoughts" or "some + more random + thoughts"?
I loved her 'coz she was there (and you were not).
Now I love her 'coz she is not here (and you are).
The phantom of our past is haunting our future.
If I tell everyone what I think of them, most will commit suicide. And vice versa.
If a song is remixed and the remix is released before the original, will the original be called a remix?
I am confused...
as if that is a news.
And even if it is, what does it matter!
All that can be said has been said.
I loved her 'coz she was there (and you were not).
Now I love her 'coz she is not here (and you are).
The phantom of our past is haunting our future.
If I tell everyone what I think of them, most will commit suicide. And vice versa.
If a song is remixed and the remix is released before the original, will the original be called a remix?
I am confused...
as if that is a news.
And even if it is, what does it matter!
All that can be said has been said.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Diary
Like everything else I like, I am obsessed with my diaries also. I used to write diary pretty regularly for more than a decade till a few days back. Somehow, that is not the case for some time now. I wrote in February just once and nothing after that.
It's not that there is any dearth of material for writing in diary. In fact, I used to write anything and everything so it never mattered much whether I have anything substantial or not. My diary was always the place, where I shared everything with me. And it is not the writer's block - I've been writing blog aplenty.
At a deeper level, I realize that it is not writing I am evading from. It is facing myself that I am evading from. Why... I don't want to face this question either!!!
It's not that there is any dearth of material for writing in diary. In fact, I used to write anything and everything so it never mattered much whether I have anything substantial or not. My diary was always the place, where I shared everything with me. And it is not the writer's block - I've been writing blog aplenty.
At a deeper level, I realize that it is not writing I am evading from. It is facing myself that I am evading from. Why... I don't want to face this question either!!!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Adios Amigos
I used to think that 'best friends' and 'friends for life' are found in innocent school days and in laid back graduation days only and that people in competitive and professional places like IIMA cannot become as close. I couldn't be more wrong.
One of my FPM batchmates left us few hours ago for his onwards journey and another one of us will leave in few hours. I never thought I would be getting senti for the people I so rarely hangout with... I cannot imagine what will happen for the people I so dearly hangout with.
And just before leaving, this friend created another page of cherishing memory. Coming back from a late night movie, I slept at two. And just two hours later, in the midst of my dream, there was a banging on the door.... a hazy one at first and then a loud one. I jumped out of bed - sleepy, shocked, and aghast. As I was alone in the whole dorm, I was afraid too and there wasn't a soul in site. And then there was giggling - two of them banged the door and were hiding. That was meant for a little farewell fun and I absolutely gave them what they wanted - a shocked face, a frozen voice, and some shocked "who's there... who's this" calls. As I regained my senses and we sat chatting, we decided to knock the door of other friends too.
As we sat chatting at 530 in morning after some more knocks (thanks to me that there were no more door-banging), we recalled a lot of old things - the initial days and the ends, the hangouts and stresses, the closeness and estrangements, the dreams and nostalgia... and what not... I am no longer a student and I never again will be. These are the buddies of my last student days. I am nostalgic for those days, for these friends, for this campus... but I do not feel sad. To me, farewells do not mean forgetting or moving on... they spell cherishing and missing people for life.
One of my FPM batchmates left us few hours ago for his onwards journey and another one of us will leave in few hours. I never thought I would be getting senti for the people I so rarely hangout with... I cannot imagine what will happen for the people I so dearly hangout with.
And just before leaving, this friend created another page of cherishing memory. Coming back from a late night movie, I slept at two. And just two hours later, in the midst of my dream, there was a banging on the door.... a hazy one at first and then a loud one. I jumped out of bed - sleepy, shocked, and aghast. As I was alone in the whole dorm, I was afraid too and there wasn't a soul in site. And then there was giggling - two of them banged the door and were hiding. That was meant for a little farewell fun and I absolutely gave them what they wanted - a shocked face, a frozen voice, and some shocked "who's there... who's this" calls. As I regained my senses and we sat chatting, we decided to knock the door of other friends too.
As we sat chatting at 530 in morning after some more knocks (thanks to me that there were no more door-banging), we recalled a lot of old things - the initial days and the ends, the hangouts and stresses, the closeness and estrangements, the dreams and nostalgia... and what not... I am no longer a student and I never again will be. These are the buddies of my last student days. I am nostalgic for those days, for these friends, for this campus... but I do not feel sad. To me, farewells do not mean forgetting or moving on... they spell cherishing and missing people for life.
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