Painting it GREEN!

Dark GREY Clouds overshadowing the BLUEness of sky, Birds taking shelter in the BROWNs of wood, Sparking YELLOW flames of Camp fire spreading warmth and CYANs of waterfall carrying the REDdish clay along its length. All this against the BLACK Backdrop of Nilgiris.

I am ...

Noone else but me can define me.

Am I defined by the education that I have recieved or by the education that I intend to recieve? Or is it the knowledge that I have accumulated of which I am not even fully aware of. Could I ever be fully aware of it is another question that has no answer.

Am I defined by the pointed organ (undefined humans have defined it as nose) in my face or by the face as a whole? Or the structure that carries that face? This could not be a clear definition as well since I could not see most part of it. But I certainly could feel the whole of it and I sincerely do. So, I can define me. No, the definitions that come to my mind are so different and so opposing that it does not fit in to give one single meaning.

Am I defined by the soul I am supposed to have? Do I have it? If yes, then it should be free as we go by its defination (again given by undefined). But my soul is not, had it been, I would not have been thinking of defining me.

Am I defined by the attitude I keep or I try to keep? My trials are seldom successful. The should I be defined by my successful trials or unsuccessful ones?

Am I defined by the acts I do or I don't do? I have lied, so am I a liar? I have loved people, so am I a lover? I am writing now, so does I become a writer? I do acts of good (or god) and acts of bad (or devil). My definition should therefore have elements of goodness and badness (if someone has defined this term) in it. Phew! Now I know atleast what can be the structure of my definition.

Am I defined by the name or surname I have been christened with or several other names that people may have kept for me? Am I defined by the objects I buy and use (or may be not use)? Am I defined by the cordinates of mine on planet or planets? No, that can't be as it is only me who can define me. And all these probable definitions of me are not given by me.

So, what is my definition after all? I cannot take help from anyone, cannot orchest it from reading thousand books, cannot see it in purest of mirrors or cannot understand it from any of my random or systematised motions or lack of thereof. But do I require to define myself? Or have I defined myself already?

I AM ME. There is no definition which can find its abolute suitability, my acts keep on psuedo defining me and psuedo redifining them, invisible souls and thoughts cannot impregnate my definition, names and suranmes too diminishes infront of ME, no praise or depravity of it can upstage my aura. I am ME.

THREADED RELATIONS

Throw it towards me. Quick! Quick!

And the Chakri came sloping down towards the kid with the blue shirt. The happiness in his eyes had lit his dark brown eyes with magical colors and the face of his friend at the other end of the thread with reddish luminance. The yellow piece of wood moving along sparkling red fiber tied to tiny fingers of two boys made me realize how the entire setting resemble our life and relationships.

Sloping of wood from one end to another, transferring love through threads of relationship generates joy of such level that there seem no ends. More the thrust is given from one end, the packets of love reaches the fag end faster. Life feels so complete that other tied fingers with relaxed threads become temporarily numb. These relaxed threads had once given similar pleasure. Now, they are knotted at several places, some more, other less. The yellow toy now has limited space to travel due to knots. Neither do it touches fingers.

However, the knots have made the distance shorter and kids can now see emotions through their jittery eyes directly. The fun of play has diminished but the strength of thread has been retained over the years. The colour of these threads though has diminished but there is an assuredness that it will remain of the same colour in future. These treads tie two lives together. These threads may be relaxed but not loose.

The threads that tie two souls is inherently fated to hold forever. Evidently, it takes disinterest from only one end to let the string fall in ground but painful efforts from both the ends to snap the red line. The stronger the thread, deeper will it cut the fingers. The wounds may heal but will show its presence forever. The hurt is from within. The penance for the same may be not just the twitching of thread, but the finger itself. The fate as stated. Vacuum at one end and lifelong carriage of remorse at the other, dragging behind.

Or, soothing touch of two hands can unknot the obstacles for wood to once again wriggle with all its valour. The process is tougher considering the fact that the kids have grown and requires the effort from TWO hands. The Process seems meaningless without the knowledge of result. The Process requires tremendous patience as some knots may budge to open. The Process requires precision as the thread may cause bruises if rushed to. The process is slow but generates elation of divine magnitude. The play restored is much more exhilarating then original start and partnership more stable.

Why did you do that? Why can't you have taken more care? Now it's broken. We will have to leave now.

A sad anguish from the boy in black pajamas brought me back to life. Tear drops were soaking the blue shirt of the younger one. I went to him and hugged him.

Uncle, don't console him. He has spoiled the play by letting the thread break.

I extended my hand to the other boy directing him to cozy up on my vacant lap. He came running towards it and sat showing bad face to the younger kid. This made him sob even faster and fasten around me with tighter grip.

The threads are in our head. Fingers can count only ten. Look at him. The threads are replaceable but not him. Treasure this bond. The piece of twine is just one of the ways to hold together and enjoy life.

I stood up as the boys loosened their hold, realizing that they may not have understood a single word. However, when I looked back from the distance, the older one was clearing the tears out of the younger boy's face.

NO ORDINARY SONG!!!

Friday, 5th September

Huma Adlabs, Kanjurmarg, Mumbai

Dark Hall lighted by intermittent flashes from life size screen, smell of liquor filling my nostrils (after-party effect, thanks to my greatest friends), chuckles of people disturbing my concentration (towards creature from Venus) and the excitement of watching India’s first truly Rock movie (following week-long wait for my ‘Cramming Season’ to get over) – all in all, stage was set for the ROCKING!!! evening.

Being the die-hard fan of movie teasers that precede actual one, I quickly held on to my seat after making some deliberate arrangements with my same loving friends (grrrrrr). Irritated by product endorsements that eat up a part of those teasers’ time, I got further irritated by seeing ‘Bharatbala Communications’ logo anticipating more time waste.

An instant guilt spanged my heart when I saw people rise in unison a second after that; not because the ladies on the screen were Bharat Ratna ‘Lata Mangeshkar’ and Bharat Vibhusan ‘Asha Bhonsle’ (whom I can listen on and on for days, weeks or even lifetime, J); not because my friends who were partially in their senses could collect their will to stand straight; not because the lady beside me who bore a weeping kid in her lap could manage to control his (or her) punitive cry; not because the song played on screen was a simple 52 sec melancholy; but because it was no ordinary song.

For few seconds I (appeared ‘I’ meant entire hall) forgot that I have actually came to hear Rock music which was distinctly not related to what I am hearing on screen then. For few seconds I forgot that I belong to M.P. and that I am a Jain currently residing in Maharashtra (M.P., Maharashtra, Jain – they all seemed to be replaced by one identity i.e. Indian). For few seconds, I forgot that the lady beside me, the kid she held in her arms, the guys standing around me were all unknown to me. For few seconds I forgot that I am standing and that the lady gave me a smile when our eyes made a contact. It all ended with a reverberant sound of ‘Jaya he! Jaya he! Jaya he!’ sung not only by those two ladies on screen but by everyone around except off course that kid in lady’s arm (though he kept quite for mysteriously long time i.e. 52 sec).

Stupid it seems, we all sat down to watch the movie and forgot what we all have gone through those 52 seconds. Apparently it seems that we forgot what that no ordinary song stands for. We forgot what our freedom fighters have done for us. We forgot that ‘freedom’ our youth flaunt with so much élan is a gift of theirs’ hard work. We forgot that the leaders whom we curse day and night are the ones who have made India come up as one of the 6 nuclear power nations. We forgot that while we are watching movie in the hall with our loved ones there are people who are actually staying away from theirs’ in the borders - all for us. The list is unending…….

During the break, I got to view those teasers which I had been longing for but that seemed hollow now. I had preferred more such 52 sec-no ordinary songs than any of those teasers which anyway I could view over internet and forget. While moving out of the hall after 2 and a half hour of fantabulous youth stuff, I happen to see that lady’s face and she responded with a smile again. I sighed “At least we don’t forget so quick!!!” or do we???

THE ROYAL STAG

THE SAGA OF AUTHOR UNKNOWN
STRONG DESIRE INSIDE WAS GROWN
TO SHOW WORLD NOTHING HE LAG
THEN WHAT ELUDES THAT 'ROYAL STAG'?

WORKS HE DID SEEMED MYSTERICAL
DRIVED HIS NIEGHBOURS HYSTERICAL
TO FEEL THE PAINS AND MISERIES
OR WHEN HIS CHARACTERS MERRIES
CREATED THE SITUATIONS SO VERY SAME
ASSUMED THE ROLE FORGETTING HIS NAME

ONCE WHILE ESSAYING THE ROLE OF SPIDER
CRAWLED UP THE WALL
CAME DOWN WITHOUT THE GLIDER
TWO FRACTURES THE COST OF FALL
MONTHS HE KEPT WRITING
AFTER THAT NASTY BITING
WITH THE PUBLICATION HOPES SAGGED
WAS STILL ELUDED THAT 'ROYAL STAG'

'FRENCH BARBARIANS' HIS NEXT VENTURE
TRIED SO HARD PUT IN A STRETCURE
HUNG UP FROM THE THUMB WAS HE TRYIING
THOUGH IN A HOSPITAL STILL NOT CRYING
THIS TIME HE'LL GET SURE HE WAS
NO'ROYAL STAG'---------NO REASONS NO CAUSE

NOT LOSING HIS HOPES TRIED AGAIN
BUT MORE AGONY MORE PAIN
THAT WORK OF MARVEL NO WHERE NEAR CLOSE
NO MATTER WHATEVER TOPIC HE CHOSE

FINALLY THOUGHT OF TOPIC EXTRAORDINARY
SOMETHING THAT GAVE HIM NO CHANCRE FOR SORRY
STARTED PENNING HOW IT FELT
A MINUTE AFTER ARSENIC SMELT
DOWN HE WENT WITHOUT ANY NOTICE
NOONE NEAR TO GIVE EVEN GOOD BYE KISS

FEW DAYS AFTER WAS NOTICED HIS MORTAL
PAGES OF HIS WORK LYING NEAR SKULL
INCOMPLETE THOUGH CREATED HISTORY
SO CLOSE WAS HE TO UNSOLVED MYSTERY
LESS TIME IT TOOK FOR BODY TO DRAG
THEN TO AWARD HIM COVETED 'ROYAL STAG'

NOSTALGIA

Summers of Circa 1988- a happy kid pushed into Carmel Convent to make the life of his teachers (read Bhavana Mam) a havoc. Extremely talkative-seeds of Mistake no. 1 were sown, but who cares.

2 years of complete leisure flew by; Mistake no. 2 was implanted already that of Topping the class- a gross habit that breaks sooner or later and causes a lifelong afflict, but why would anybody care about such a mistake.

Fast forward to 1994(reason being this boy remembered very little about the time before except that he met someone special & more special friends and Sister Noela who would ruthlessly send his copies flying out), he conducted Mistake no. 3 that of becoming too independent though this one was forced to him by the fracture of his mother's leg. For the first time there was no one to care about his little wishes except his extra loaded sister. Stage set for melodramatic 'grew more than his age' act. But NO! his protective father took all pains without letting any of the kids realize how grave the problem was(it took 5 years and 3 operations at Gwalior, Delhi and Chennai for his mother to finally walk without pain). So, though he became independent but still not responsible - a lethal combo. Apart from this, life at school was coool with Mam Grewal throwing him out of class each time she got irritated by his continuous chatting ;).

Came 1995- his eventual movement to Seniors' Building, a sense of pride filled his heart(don't ask why). Alton and his mom Shaileja Mam(grown kid's class teacher as well) positively influenced his mind by their peaceful conduct and he got greatly attracted towards Church and Jesus (not unnatural for a convent educated guy). Utsav and Rahul were his closest friends and he thought that they always will remain. Mistake no. 4 occurred when he started studying for his Value Education paper a night before (a habit he has continued to religiously follow till date and his Mistake no. 5 as well) and happened to call his friend to inquire about his progress in mugging. Unaware about the dates, he came to know that his exam got over the same day and that he had missed it. Hey! this isn't the mistake mentioned above but only a root for the bigger one. He became phobic to dates and stopped remembering them forever. This one mistake has already cost him several B'day misses & similar events and, may be, many more to follow. Sad part is that for this mistake, All Cares! or rather consider that he don't care enough for them ( quite untrue though :( )

Exams got over, his years of innocence getting over as well (becoming kamina ;) ) and his close friendship with Utsav-Rahul was getting over as well. Now draping his books and copies with brown sheet (for 6th Std.) started appearing bore to him, following his sister (and her friends) had by this time became nauseating, Sketching became his prime time hobby (which he maintains till date with gradual promotion to Painting as well) and his colony friends were the ones whom he started spending half of his non-school time Playing, Lukhing, Following ... and most important Collecting Stamps (his collection till date is 1000 + and this hobby was instilled to him by his dearest sister while she gifted him with an Archie's Stamp Book that became an instant rave amongst his colony friends). His school time was more exciting though as he spearheaded an epic clash in classroom which got divided in two halves. Acting as knight from Khushboo's side (he still wonders where she has gone after that), he was the main person who lead to collapse of opposite side but then he committed Mistake no. 6 of accepting his fault when there was none for the sake of peace. There it clicked, but in long run of life, it always boomerangs! And it boomeranged; again and again (mentioned later). He cares for this but to no avail as he keep on repeating it (his closed ones will never agree on this claim but who cares :P )

Life changing moment came in 1997 when his teacher made a new girl sit by his side in new class so that she can get acquainted to class and course WELL. Namrata (or Nammo as his family calls her) was best competitor anybody could demand for. The class rocked with his friends Kinshuk & Kandarp (though he could not understand how they are twins when they looked so different but coincidently he learned about Fraternal twins the same year) and he rocked more as he stood first with a staggering margin of 26 marks (huge for that class-never ever this feat was repeated by him or others). But he rocked more because in the presence of Nam he did not made any new mistakes that year. Now that's the real point of worry but don't care much about it now, he will surely make up for it the next year ;D. He sucked at the same time because he used to trouble his classmates by caning them with sticks as a monitor and he got rewards when they used to do the same when their turn as monitor came. And with regular Mistake no. 1, anyone could guess who got more.

(to be continued...)