prabāt

where the mind is without fear...


Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Story Tagged

San has tagged me to write a story in 55 words or less.

Here goes..

He gave her everything. A colossal hilltop villa with a swanky porch and Picasso / Da Vinci / Ravi Verma adorned walls, platinum pendants, the finest mink coat, the classiest breed of a pom as pet, and life term membership to the posh beauty salon, when all she needed was his shoulder.

I'm tagging everyone in My neighborhood.

posted by Kishore at 7:04 AM   |   |
Monday, September 26, 2005

What is it... that you really believe in?

An explanation to Reshma's What is it...

Call it déjà vu or coincidences. There are those unseen cosmic ropes that tie you into an aura of sensitive bonds. Our life is controlled more by these invisible forces than the visible tangible ones.

Or rather, it is the invisible ones that create the tangible ones. You are able to write because you think. You chase your thoughts and that pours out as words. But have you tried to "see" your thoughts. It's the result of thought – the words – that is tangible. Have you cried because you were sad? So, what made you sad? Did you "see" your sadness? But what you did see is the morose kinesics of becoming sad – the tangible result of an unseen force!!

It's a simple theory of cause and effect. You always chase the unseen ones and the visible ones just happen as a result. Well, you don't even need to chase them. They'll be with you until you are alive, irrespective of whether you chase it or shun it.

These unseen drivers are right here around us in the most trivial of things. Every word you speak is a result of such a drive. You say something because you believe in it. We see something and believe it be that thing. Belief. We hear a voice and identify it to be someone's. Belief. We smell and think it smells good. Smell. Belief. You decide to have Gobi manchurian on your next meal. You like it. Like. The overwhelming sense of emotions that engulfs you when you see your newborn baby. Love. The very fact that you are living. Life. We know we are living because we move, we breathe, we talk, we eat. But have you actually "seen" Life?

That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives and our future. Imagination is composed of visions and inferences from our perceptions about love, truth, justice or any emotion you encounter. They form discrete invisible connections in our subconscious that give rise to our belief-system. These invisible connections form a wholesome figure that rules over us as our ego and attitudes. And all of this in turn shape our living.

Its not in believing what is visible and defined but belief in these unseen connections that gives you a direction to move. The unseen connections are nothing but a superimposition of your perceptions from tangibility. They are you!

They discipline your thinking, moderate your actions, an element of fear, an element of anxiety, an element of hope, an element of joy, an element of purpose, a reason to take the next step, a reason to talk the next word, a reason to pull the next breath, a reason to feel belonged, a reason to smile, a reason to cry, a reason to hug, a reason to greet, a reason to realize what you are, a reason to understand who you are, a reason to live.

Its not in the choice of choosing to go the way of believing these invisible connections or not, but life thrives on invisible connections.

The most obvious is the most oblivious. That is the beauty of life.

posted by Kishore at 7:11 AM   |   |
Monday, September 19, 2005

i still feel like a newborn

Soft, sticky, warm, calm. Alone but loneliness unknown. Active yet unseen. An identity descended as relationships started brewing.

A first pang of pain, wet with what I would later learn as a tear, a blinding brightness, a shaken repose as I dragged out of my perpetual comfort into an expanse hitherto unimagined – my first ever transition from a comfort to distress. A bout of tears and soon they had ceased, and with eyes closed to the newfound brightness, I was encased into a safe cuddle with a coo and a smile – from distress back to comfort. Life had announced its presence.

And time moved relentlessly like only she could, unfazed to any joy, unsympathetic to any sorrow, never slowing nor speeding.

From the days everyone called me cute, to first kisses to my cheeks, first spank for spilling my milk, admirations to the first word uttered, the first step on foot, first shift from nappies to shorts, first bout of fever, first visit to the doctor, first tear for wanting something, first tear for losing something, first tears on my first day at school…

The unnoticed joys of the first word I wrote, first page I turned, first lesson I learnt, first exam I wrote, first anxious wait for result, first hit on my knuckles, first promotion to the next class, first shift to a different city, first emotion of having a friend, first emotion of being a friend, first injury, first sight of a birth and death, first signs of growing up, first shopping for razor blades, first loss of my loved one, first feel of being lost, first feel of loneliness, first sleepless night, first promises of future, first travel alone, first possession of a gadget, first day into a college, first degree next to my name, first interview for work, first day at work, first earning, first trip abroad…

Some firsts never got off, others became weary, but none would stop newer ones from coming. With every fading first entered a new one. And every first brought with it an air of new freshness – the extraordinary feel of another ‘first-time ever’. A new learning. An entry into a new unknown. A new passage to explore the mysterious. New joys. New sorrows. New fears. New outlooks. New beliefs.

At times, it tends to feel I’ve seen it all. But I laugh at my ignorance as fast as I felt that. It’s the same life that started at birth. But seems a new one with every passing year. The more I expect the newness to diminish, the faster I confront more of them, and perhaps that’s how fast I grow.

Life is still new. Still a new born. Waiting for new firsts to happen. Waiting to see the unseen. to seek the sought after, to hope the unhoped, to search the newness of new joys, and new sorrows.

Life is still new. And it would probably always be.

posted by Kishore at 8:27 PM   |   |
Friday, September 16, 2005

home sweet home sweet home sweet...

It was a long longing wait. A wait, for reasons more than many.

When every morning meant a wait for the evening and every evening meant a promise – a promise to be, and with the fading twilight, began the wait for another morning.

As minutes ticked past giving way to the hours, the brightness of the sun only reflected the warmth of a moon glowing on the other side of earth.

The start of the day’s work, painted the drowsy tiredness of a late evening return from work.

The afternoon breeze warmed by the blazing sun, felt the chill of a midnight breeze cooled by the gloss of moon.

The vociferous luncheon audience, echoed the stillness of a sleepy silence of a wee hour morning.

The evening fatigue, radiated the weariness of a half-waken morning sleep.

The passive dinner and the half-remnant hunger, felt the satiation of a warm breakfast.

The night sleep, menacingly digested the complicated day.

After some toil, the losing glow of a valuable splendor has found its way back. When mornings became mornings again, and evenings became evenings.

Mohan Bhargava is back to where he belongs.

Yeh jo des hai mera, swades hai mera,
mujhe yeh pukara...
yeh woh bandhan hai jo kabhi toot nahin saktha...

posted by Kishore at 3:41 AM   |   |