Life Inspires

The Moonsmith Gulzar: orbiting the celebrated words by Shailja Chandra My rating: 5 of 5 stars I have always been fascinated by how accessible Gulzar's poetry seems to be and yet there are layers and layers to unravel before you can begin to understand it. Shailja Chandra's "The Moonsmith Gulzar" inspired me to initiate my own inquiry as a scholar of poetry. The "simplicity" of language in Gulzar's nazms can be very deceptive. And one needs either years of focused study or a mentor to structure one's research. And just like Chandra looks at Gulzar as a mentor to decrypt the mysteries of the Cosmos, I look up to Chandra as my mentor to start my own inquiry into Gulzar's poetry. The word "Moonsmith" would literally mean someone who creates new entities from the Moon. Or it may mean someone who shapes the Moon. So who is it? Who motivates the Moon to change its shape? That is the "Moonsmith". That is the Sun. That is Gulzar. ...

I am starting this post with a promise to myself that this is going to be a brave and honest post. When I look at my past posts, I can see a trend that they are wanna-be brave and honest posts, but tend to end in cliched didactics or a trivialization of the entire subject-matter. I will try to ensure that this post does not yield to that trap. It should be easy, I think. But let's see. Just yesterday evening, I was with a group of friends - my old colleagues and friends. And  as it often happens during an evening spent with friends, an interesting topic came up - how one's perspective changes in a life-and-death situation. And this is the question that I want to examine in this post. I am not trying to provide answers, I am instead questioning the question itself. What is a life-and-death situation? And whether it does indeed bring you face to face with a greater truth? Some of my friends in that group have been through terrible accidents, where survival was a matter of pure su...

If you were ever lonely And I wasn't there for you, Please forgive me. If you ever wanted to cry And I didn't offer my shoulder, Please forgive me. If you were ever afraid of dark And I didn't turn on the lights, Please forgive me. If you wanted to fly high And I didn't let go, Please forgive me. If you wanted to dance And I switched the music off, Please forgive me. If you wanted to be punished And I was too kind, Please forgive me. If you wanted me to be happy And I only smiled weakly, Please forgive me. If you wanted me to move on And I would rather cling, Please forgive me. Now I have moved on And life ahead looks bright. Go on! Walk your separate way, Till we meet again...

Based on the fairy tale "Princess and the Frog" in which a princess kisses a frog that turns into a handsome prince upon being kissed. As always, they live happily ever after. Click here if you want to read the whole story. "Kissing a Frog" is my take on the fairy tale. Kissing a Frog It was the most beautiful night possible. High up in the sky, a full moon shone brightly and around it twinkled countless little stars. Fireflies fluttered from shrub to shrub and the moonlight reflected off delicate drops of dew. The whole landscape was bathed in a silver light. There was hardly any noise except harmonious sounds of little creatures of the night. Things were as serene as they could be and the air was cool. Tired birds had just started to fall asleep in their little nests when they were cruelly shaken out of their stupour by the sudden, crashing noise of Princess Greta emerging out of the shrubs. “I will catch him tonight,” she exclaimed loudly to the wilde...

The bag full of stones gets heavier by the minute. Should I keep it down? I wonder. Is there time? For A little rest? A little nap? Or for even a short wink? No, I wave these lazy thoughts, away. Far Away! Treading the rugged path, I must keep going, I must move on. This is the way it works, The force that pushes the earth. "But my feet hurt!", a small voice, petulant, weary, makes itself heard from deep inside my tired heart. "Let them hurt, let them bleed", And I Pull out the thorn that has broken the skin "Does it hurt now?" The blood dries. Won't a little bit of sun, shine down upon my brow, and break the shiny little beads, strung by dancing drops of rain? No matter if it does not, It will always be this way. Just like yesterday, just like today, just like tomorrow. I can never stop, and neither can you! for we are together in this. Eternal travellers!

(Photo clicked by my friend, Sachin Jain) I am not afraid of Tigers and Lions. I love watching them hunt on National Geographic or Discovery and am not repulsed by the way they devour their hapless victims. I do not jump out of my skin when I see their pictures. They are the animals that I find most interesting when I visit the zoo. And while on a Safari, I keep my fingers crossed for a sighting. I am not intimidated by them provided they maintain their distance.  People claim to have recurring dreams or nightmares. I do too. I dream a lot about Lions and Tigers. They do not attack. That could be quick and clean. Instead they stalk. The general pattern of these dreams is that there is a village or a town where these tigers or lions or sometimes both, are roaming around. I am trying to get somewhere while avoiding these predators who, by the way, seem to sense that I am trying to do just that. On my way, I take shelter in various houses and many times narrowly escape being spotted...

"I have done so much for her and see what I get in return." Sometime or the other, all of us are prone to feeling this way. It becomes worse when this feeling creeps in between two people everytime they have the slightest of the arguments. The next stage is more often than not 'regret'. Feeling cheated in this way does not make you a bad person. It only makes you human. But if you hold these thoughts somewhere within you, they are sure to surface some time in form of words or actions. And this can deeply hurt your friend/spouse/parents/children/siblings... I started thinking about this when someone told me that it is difficult to avoid this frame of mind. I agree to a certain extent. In extreme cases, it is often important for you to know for yourself that you have done the best for something. For example, in case of a cheating spouse, if you know that you haven't left any stones unturned to make the marriage work, you are more confident of your choices and...

You don't have to be a seagull to be "Jonathan Livingston". Anyone who pushes the boundaries dictated by the physical, mental and emotional limitations of their species is "Jonathan Livingston". Evolution itself is a proof of this. Every specie has had its fair share of "Jonathan Livingstons", except perhaps the Dodos. They never had a chance. A blink, and they were gone. Let us consider the example of this Giraffe, who has to resort to inconvenient postures to be able to quench his thirst: By the next photo, it seems to have realized the absurdity of its posture and is asking me "What is so funny? Be thankful that you don't have stick-like front legs." Now what it chooses to do with this realization will decide whether this Giraffe is going to be a "Jonathan Livingston" Giraffe. A giraffe doesn't usually sit down because it cannot quickly get up and get going. This giraffe can accept that this is what it has and learn...

"There is pattern in all that is random" Even the most complex of Random Number Generation Algorithms have a pattern. Let me know in case you know of one that doesn't. The same is true for every other aspect. When the civilization began, very regular events like the sun rising, must have appeared random to the human-kind. Movement of Stars, Shapes of moon, flowing of rivers, aging, birth, everything must have appeared random. But the introspective human mind searched for and identified patterns in them. In our lives as well, we assume that some things simply happen randomly. However, it is my personal belief that there is pattern and predictable behavior behind these as well. We are just not big enough to understand that.

The biggest indication of lack of faith is when you start being prepared for disappointment... If you expect to fail in the end, can you put in your best effort? If you try to play safe to prevent disappointment in case something doesn’t work, do you think you can give 100% to the cause? And if you don’t give in your best, don’t you think that you have lesser chances of succeeding? Battles are fought and won only when you have complete faith in the cause. Either you want to win or you don’t. If you want to win then believe that you will win. Otherwise give up right now and move on to something you really believe in…

1) Only when you apply brakes do you realize your speed... Thought of this while driving on the DND flyway in Delhi. I was travelling at about 80 km/hr (which is the maximum speed limit). I think it is very true for life as well. This is why we feel lost when there are commas in life. It is really hard to get up and get going again... 2) As soon as you cease to value what you have, you lose everything! There are times in our lives when all of us feel lonely and lost and that life is not worth the effort. When I thought about this and looked around, I realized that we feel this way when we stop valuing those who value us. This happens when we yearn for things that we do not have and in the process ignore everything that we have. So it feels like we do not have anything...

When I slow down, the world goes by, so fast that it's nothing, but a colorful blur. I stand still, and try to make sense, of all that's happening, without and within. All things that I hold dear, vanish one by one. Everyone who is near, is changing with the tide. And it is then when I feel it, As slow and quiet, as the blooming of a rose bud, the small but sure changes in me. It is a comfort, to say the least. While the world's not constant, I, too, am changing with it.

Am I the Candle Flame flickering with the assault of wind? Or Am I the gust of wind that in its path teases the candle flame? Can you see me in the steps that lead up to the home of Lord? Or do I exist in the feet, that tread their way up to divinity? Can I be felt in the song that wanders around the tall trees? Or Am I the lonely lass who meanders singing songs of love? Am I the abundant nectar, that finds its way into a butterfly's mouth? Or am I the pretty insect, That sighs in ecstacy with the sweet sip? Do I travel with the light, from the lamp of the fast moving train? Or am I the black darkness, chased by the train on its nightly tour? Who am I? Am I the one whose pen, has overflown with these words? Or Am I the one whose eyes devour each word as they move from top to bottom?