a maze called mumbai...

Braving the maze and pushing through the density I make my way everyday. Feeling lost was never an option because it is easy to drift away in the haze of this massive maze. A watchful and observant eye always keeps you in the right direction of your everyday path. A careful search leads you into the right site. An eye and a common sense become your best friends in this confusion. I felt like an entity or an individual without any need for support when I got used to the density of the confusion. I felt I could do anything without yearning for help. After a few days it feels serene and calm. Almost a rhythmic flow of life has set into my veins and I do not panic within, about the next step I should take for the crisis that I'm facing. I take a breath and go about sorting things even while enjoying the soothing rhythm playing in my veins. I guess that's what everyone says about Mumbai. It's a confusing maze and can be scary for a newcomer but slowly and steadily it tucks you into its beautiful lull that you shall cherish forever.

Confessions of a tortured soul

It hurts to feel
It hurts to touch
It hurts to soothe
To express this much

At the brim it is calm
Soothing and straight
Turbulance wrecking beneath
Sinkin with weight

Hard to breathe
Tough not to
Feeling the dead
Tough to rue

Seething and screaming
Helpless with angst
Holding on the strains
Pushing to fret

Deafening clamour
A surging uproar
Nirvana for Buddha
For me hell to the core

Idiots know BEST....

I watched Raju Hirani’s 3 Idiots, first day first show, at Star theatre. It was an awesome ride for 3 hours. There was entertainment, there was substance, and there were sparks that set the heart and mind on fire. But once you are in bed having reached home after the show there are a few feelings that remain which make you ponder about the film more than all the fun and entertainment of the magic of the big screen.

Anybody could be Raju Rastogi or Farhan Ansari. Their story could be anybody’s story. But what about Ranchhordas Shamaldas Chanchad? Or should I say Phunsukh Wangdu? He is unique and to some extent quite implausible. It’s not so easy to make one person impersonate another through school as well as college and go uncaught. It’s tough. Very tough.

But setting aside the absurdities that any film can showcase let us talk about some of the realities that films present. The extreme guts, nonchalance and indifference that Rancho or Phunsukh has exhibited in the film can only come when you have no liabilities in life. It stems in the fact that ‘I have nothing to lose’. And unlike Raju or Farhan you rarely get to see a Rancho in real life. I agree that he had the responsibility to complete his own education for the sake of his master’s son. But would he really lose something in life if he failed to go through with it. Whatever he was achieving was for the sake of someone else. And whatever he wanted to achieve could have been achieved even without going to college because he himself felt that the prevailing education system was not teaching him anything new. So for him a School Leaving Certificate or a Degree in Mechanical Engineering was of no value. Hence, it was quite easy for him to rebel; quite easy to repeatedly show the audacity of trying to teach the Director of his college how he felt the education system should be. So although you and I can laud him and clap for him whenever he pulled out a stunt with his Director or with the naturally obnoxious Chatur Ramalingam (guys like him do exist; I vouch from personal experience), you and I cannot rebel against ViruS. The reason: We need the degree otherwise hell will break lose in our middle-class homes where our parents slog day and night to make it possible for us to go to college and we hardly need to care about our sustenance.

Yes, we can try to commit suicide like Raju or Lobo when caught between crosshairs in our academic life or try to convince our usually unrelenting parents to follow our calling in life like Farhan but rarely can we keep trying to change the system when we are threatened by ViruS’ counterparts of being rusticated. Sad, I know, but so very true.

That’s why whenever people like Chetan Bhagat, Raju Hirani or Aamir Khan try to show what we go through and show it close enough to reality we laud their books, films and portrayals. Their creations become our means of rebellion. We lead a silent crusade behind the safe armour of their creations to voice our own opinions. But does that mean we are cowards? NO. We simply prioritise our responsibilities towards our families and therefore silently crusade against the prevailing competitive spirit by supporting Bhagat’s, Hirani’s and Khan’s attempts at portraying reality even though helplessly most of us take part in the rat race.

We discussed......

The clouds were hiding the evening sun. It seemed later than it actually was. A shadow cast through the door generated a cool reflective feeling. The cushion rested against my back. My mother lay on the divan.
I was amazed at how much I had grown up. I was struck at how responsible I felt. I was surprised how coolly I thought and expressed. We talked like we never had before. She didn't stop me once from speaking the way I did. She didn't have anything contrary to say to the way I felt about love, relationships and marriage. Of course she thought that the idea of not marrying ever was ridiculous but she didn't dwell upon it for long.
On the other hand I was so cool at expressing what I felt. Not for once did I fear what she or my dad would feel about the opinions I had on some important facets of life. Not for once did I hesitate to speak up. I just kept saying what I felt honestly. I heard what they had to say. We didn't argue for once. We did what I had asked for a long time. We discussed.

I looked at her.......

The heart beats fast....the nerves are taut....the smile never fades....hopes seem high....I FEEL I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!!!!
The first time I saw her I thought she was smart. The second time I looked she seemed cute. A third time she felt so beautiful. A fourth time I felt she was intelligent. And so it kept happening. The last time I saw her I knew she was mine.
I can't say much more now. I can't express any more for now. Things around seem indescribable. My heart, I know not why, is racing so fast. And all this after I looked at her.

Highs and Lows

I am slipping in and out of reality. O! I don’t want to drift away. I want to pay attention to whatever she’s telling. God! I don’t want her to understand. Oh is that what the British did to the nationalist newspapers during their Raj? That’s so atrocious. But what did they do? Never mind. I’m feeling happy. Oh! Being happy is such an awesome feeling. No tensions. No thoughts. Life’s absolutely perfect. I can face anything. Trust me. I can fight anything. Aha! I’ve heard about that paper. Amrita Bazar Patrika is familiar to me. Didn’t they give a huge advertisement of the founder of ABP a few days back in The Telegraph? But why did they give the advertisement? Was it his birth anniversary or his death anniversary? Should I ask her? Oh no! Not at all. She will understand. Gosh! Harsh is feeling it too. Ahuh!! But he must be habituated to feeling like this in the class. Yeah he’s smiling too like I’m. and look at Rahul. He’s got no work but to grin at me and my condition.

Oh! I got to write about this experience. Seriously I must. This is the first time I’ve done this in class. Man! It’s awesome! Cool! Oh! I’ve a question. How come the missionaries brought out a nationalist newspaper? But I shouldn’t ask her. Someone else should. God! She’s looking at me. God! She must have understood. Shit! O but she didn’t say anything. Eh! Neepa ask her this question. Silly girl! She says she won’t ask her the question. Why? ‘Cuz she doesn’t want to talk to her. How silly! But it’s okay. Some other time. Oh! Why isn’t the bell ringing? I want to sleep. I want to slip into nothingness. I want to rest. Totally. There goes the bell.

Chayan is pissed with me a li’l bit. He says he thought I was his brother. I’ve disappointed him. He thought we would do it together whenever we did it. But this time it was just me and not him. I’m so touched. I’m sorry brother! But I can’t explain to you how free I’m today than I was maybe two years ago. How confident I feel about every decision I take! I purposely inhaled from the roll Harsh made. It was my decision. I feel freer when I make these freaky decisions. Oh buddy if only I could explain this to you. But now I’m too happy to be emotional. But you’ll be my brother always re! We’ll roll together next time and have it together. Aha! This is the happiest moment of my life. My heart isn’t beating. Its dancing just like the waves at sea. So cool. So calm. So serene. That’s exactly what I’m feeling. Serene and content.

A disturbance. A promise.

I have been reading ‘The Kite Runner’ by Khaled Hosseini and I saw ‘MP3’(Mera Pehla Pehla Pyar) and this has caused a clash of emotions within me and a torrent of disturbing thoughts heaving in my heart.

The book is disturbing, ripping, disconcerting, distressing in more ways than one and while the film is such a happy romantic one, it still disturbs me. May be the film isn’t practical at all and the book is too practical. Practicality is something which I’ve always adored and lived up to but isn’t anyone allowed dreams come true like MP3?

I know you just don’t run from Delhi to Paris in order to acknowledge your love when you are only 18 but then why can’t we? Why don’t we do something crazy for the sake of love? Why do people scorn at us when we want to do something that’s out of the usual norm? Why does society have to question every step that we take in life? And when we don’t care for society our family dissuades us through emotional blackmail. And why so? ‘Cuz each individual in our families is insecure. They are afraid that may be one out-of-the-ordinary step will change life for something dangerous. But it’s a foolish fear. It’s only the fear of unknown alleys and untrodden paths. When it had been their chance to take a path less trodden they were either afraid to take the plunge or were dissuaded from doing so and today they do it to us. They try to dissuade us.

Why does everyone have to be so practical? Why can’t we just dream for once? Why can’t we dream of those unfulfilled fantasies that we might have wanted? Why do we only have to be practical for just that petty material gain? I understand we get to lead a more leisurely life with our filled wallets and huge bank balances but what satisfaction does one derive? Only the green or yellow colour that slips out of the wallet becomes the colour of our life. As if there exists no other colour.

For a while, for Amir , his own gains were the most important ambitions of his life until he came across the truth of Hassan while for Rohan, his dreams or the playful lack of it, his friends and his love were all the happiness that he could live with forever. Personally I want to be Rohan but unfortunately I see myself following the footsteps of Amir. But sooner rather than later things will change. I promise.