Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

# 15 to Tendulkar

                                                                                                                                   
How often does it happen that everything is in place, everything is perfect but there is this ear blasting whisper telling us something is missing. Thoughts dip in worry to tap it down what it was that wasn’t around. And then gradually we are able to decipher what it was that went offshore. The icing of enthusiasm stayed away from the picture to make it perfect.

Each article moving at its pace has the Midas touch ones it gets to feel the heart, hand and heed hit it off.

Most lives sum up in parody. Since the birth to the last sleep in the berth, imitation remains constant. There can be changes in between and those changes with full heartedness let us survive our names long after we reduce to meaty memories. It is not in our offsprings we have our rebirths. Our beingness, our representation, our special touch twirls in the memories of others. “Oh, had he/s been here, there would have been ripples all over!” - is our touch.

Liveliness is in the pocket of our heart. At times more than frequent it must be let out for a game.

The legend signed off from what he loved most. He lived his childhood all through his adult life and god willing and he willing shall continue forever. If he hadn’t tossed and turned long with eager enjoyment could he become what has become of him between those 22 yards?

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Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Talk

“I quit!” He scribbled on a plane paper and jumped off the building. He died. “loser,” sniggered the world. Life went on as before.

Quitting got no solution. It never does.

I have lost a student, one of my best friends and one of my colleagues' turned friends' teenage first born son to it and let me confess, it isn’t easy to bear the loss and to confront the losses in the faces of the we never knew family members, especially parents. While again, there are also those kinds, the eraser-hearts who can move on. 

For me, my observations, my memories remain static, irreplaceable.

2 decades past...

My best friend attempted suicide due to parental pressure of scoring full marks (this was the talk of the town when he passed away) in physics/maths. Born to a genius family and a withdrawn person in nature, he quite made the subject to be on a suicide watch. But no one cared. Not until it was too late.

My student was grappling with his own identity conflicts. He was a women cased in a man’s body. You can’t be so in the hinterland of India. Tongues were wagging all around, no one gave him the space he needed to know himself, not even the ‘artist’ parents he was born to. He too quit.(sad, he was just about to begin his soon to follow career after working under an acclaimed fashion designer)

3 years back

My colleagues' son was an adolescent, full of hope, a creative genius and struck by cupid. A simple refusal was all it took for him to quit. He left behind some lovely hand-written poems.

These three people lost early in life had two things in common: they were au fait and sensitive. In this modern society, this is a lethal combination that works as a catalyst to suck out the marrow of life.  

Marx underlines this narrative of a conflict in our ‘modern’ society: “having shown up the contradictions and unnaturalness of modern life not only in the relationships of particular classes, but in all circles and forms of modern intercourse.” 

While most battling out life’s war, pre- positioning themselves on suicidal radar, would say, “easier said than done.”I’d be a bit optimistic in saying: “Life is not about giving up, it’s about living it up…”


give warmth
  Too many youngsters resort to self end owing to "abused friendship, deceived love, frustrated ambition, family suffering, repressed rivalry, dissatisfaction with a monotonous life, suppressed enthusiasm, are indubitably the causes of suicide in more generously endowed natures, and the love of life itself, this energetic driving force of personality, very often leads to putting an end to a detestable existence ( Marx's note)." Most younglings I have come in touch in person with confessing to attempt haven't given new reasons. BUT! But I have heard an echo in their voices, "we want to talk to someone, someone who understands us, not make fun of us or ignore us".

We have grown in number but so in our lethal deafness. Our purchasing power has gone up and we have conveniently replaced warmth of relationships with goodies. Expensive mobile phones have enhanced connectivity but severed connection. We rarely now connect with each other!!!

Right things at the right moment don’t happen all the time. One has to have patience. Patience and life dive deep. On a very serious note, family, friends, siblings can keep a slightly off the track being engaged in mundane, frivolous talks. Tagging along or giving time to that suppressed enthusiast will let him/her battle out the internal conflicts. Who doesn't have an internal conflict? Everyone does, but we don't self end our existence! Do we? Don’t die. Please! At least not by choice!

Every suicide breaks me down. They smack our failure as individuals, as society.

Talks really help.

So talk…just talk!

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Sunday, April 24, 2011

And the wait...




Love ones said to me
He loved to take a walk in a rain squatted lane
Clement, cold,curly
Lovers silence’ won his heart
Their fingers crossing warmth
Made him smile.
In the corner of a deep curtained room
Love has just left me
With a hope
For a little shower…
And
The wait hangs on
In the shelves of my petite heart.

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