If Poetry was Prose

I don't know why but I had to do this. I wanted to write a stupid poem so here it is, test your tolerance:


If poetry was prose 
It would not convey meanings
Neither hard in dealings 
Nor any place for subtle feelings


If poetry was prose
I would have written at length
I would have added some depth
I would need no more strength


If poetry was prose
The number of lines wouldn't matter
Expression would certainly be better
Words would not sound to chatter


If poetry was prose
It wouldn't have the smell of a rose ...

For the Heart, By the Heart, To the Heart

The human heart is four chambered, no wonder it gets broken. It has a terrible shape to add to the vulnerabilities and in size is only as big as the person's fist. People blame it on excess consumption of oil and fats that deteriorates the functioning of the heart, I blame it on the poets and lyricists. Having become a subject of all depressions, miseries and love songs, it is tired. They say love is a drug and then they subject their hearts to such dangerous things. If you think it's easy being a heart try doing what it does everyday. What the heart can do you can't even dream of ... how many times have you pumped blood, and managed its delivery all over the human body!

Even philosophers love the heart so much. How easy it is for them to preach 'follow your heart' and be praised for the advice of a lifetime! Nobody asked cardiologists what they have to say about the heart unless some malfunctioning was found in the same. Anyway, if you'd know, the word "awesome" was ruled out of the dictionary for its over-usage but still continues to be harnessed. One day I hope humans will become cyborgs and the heart will be left alone. In case I have not been clear on the "over-usage" thing, let me illustrate: 

A boy named Lakshya studied with me in my class during my primary education years. Lakshya was very normal - normal lifestyle, normal hairstyle, normal eating-style, normal dressing style ... abnormal name. Not that his name was bad but if you might have figured out by now, it's easier saying Lux than Lakshya, so what if it's a popular soap brand. So we had a soap brand in our class. Poor kid was so disturbed, he changed his school but before that, he changed his name to something else, very insignificant compared to Lux.

Moral of the story is not that we shouldn't be teasing boys with unconventional names (or perhaps that could as well be one of the morals), it's about the over usage that we subject things to. 

Every love song will have a worthless mention of a heart. Before you say "I love you with all my heart", try seeking permission from your heart; it won't allow you, it won't stop you. It'll do just what it ought to : pump blood. People might perhaps one day start associating intestines with love - large intestine for friends, small for the beloved. I won't mention the heart again.

This is the last paragraph and it's going to be short, you may heave a sigh of relief. What has turned out is instant : no thought process, no nothing, very much like other blog posts that were written out of insomniac compulsions. If you're bored and you know it, clap your hands (and pretend to be an idiot for a while, it won't kill you). And for the quote, here's from "The Scientist" by Coldplay : 

Questions of science, science & progress do not speak as loud as my heart!  

Facebook, Cell Phones and the Like

I was once sitting outside the college canteen when this idea struck me. As I sat alone in one of the corners with some music playing on my earphones and surfing through Facebook, a classmate of mine came and sat beside me. I hadn’t known him very well but we knew each other just as classmates. After having acknowledged each other, we got busy with our respective cell phones. I had a call on my hands-free and I said “hello”. Having heard me and assuming that it was for him, he greeted me back and then he felt embarrassed. It was something new for me. At the school we were not allowed to carry cell phones with us and that had positive results, nobody sat alone. Groups of students huddled up to have fun, remaining uninterrupted by cell phone message beeps, calls and other disturbances. 

I am neither against technology nor its implications but it strikes me and I believe it should strike everyone to see how social interactions have dwindled to silent texts and smileys. A psychological study that I came across after a few days of the aforesaid incident had my mind thinking over and over. According to the study, human interactions remain “incomplete” if there’s no face to face contact. To get a message conveyed complete in all respects, we need to have an eye contact. The more we interact virtually, the more we hollow ourselves from within. The electronic chats that we engage in, entertain us for the time being but in the long run spell despair because of a talk that has remained incomplete somewhere. An empty feeling in the mind is generated.

There’s nothing wrong in making acquaintances in the virtual world but an attempt to remain indifferent to the influence is required. Since the probability of meeting these people is very low, a detachment is necessary. Think about it, when was the last time that you talked to someone ‘real’ without having been interrupted by your gadget?

"So if you have a minute why don’t we go, talk about it somewhere only we know. This could be the end of everything, so why don’t we go… Somewhere Only We Know" - Keane 

Sit-a-While

On the way to my village by road is a place of mythological significance, Valmikinagar. Valmikinagar is said to be the place where Sita, after being ousted from Ayodhya, lived with Maharshi Valmiki, the sage who wrote the Ramayana. It is now a place with dense forests and a few hutments can be observed in fringes in the middle of these jungles. The story told hereby, takes place in one of these houses.

I had been vacationing at my native place once during the summers which was quite a routine for me. As a city dweller, the serene country side can do wonders to your tired soul. Being a part of a Zamindar family, I was one day asked to go to the nearby town and look into some matter pertaining to the land. I agreed without hesitation as it wasn’t going to be a hard ordeal. It was certainly a matter of an hour or so but as destiny would have had it, it took more than the time it should have taken. It was getting dark and hence it was decided that we should be heading back to the village, only to come back the next day again. I was reluctant but not being fully aware of the repercussions, I decided to obey the advice of the person who had accompanied me. So we set out in the jeep. 

Within an hour of our journey, we were on the road through the jungles of Valmikinagar. As I tried to focus on the beauty of these old yet strong trunks of the trees that were silhouetted by the full moon’s glare behind them, the jeep started showing signs of a breakdown. And among the hooting of the owls and the sullen silence of the night, there we were standing next to the jeep, a grey smoke emerging out of the engine. The driver went in search of water while my wise accomplice who knew we could not fix it that night, asked me to accompany him to find a shelter in one of the huts. We happened to find one decent two storeyed house among a group of about six or seven hutments. My accomplice first introduced himself to the owner of the house and then pointing towards me, he told the owner that I’m the son of the Zamindar in my village, after which the owner was quite pleased to have us as his guests for the night. A decent meal was served to us and after a light chat about the work that I had gone for, we all retired to our beds. I was given a bed in one of the rooms on the second floor which used to remain empty most of the time. I fell deep asleep as soon as I lay on the bed.

At 3 in the morning, my eyes opened to a sound. I checked my cell phone for the time, and to illuminate the room a little to find out if everything was fine. As I turned to the right flashing my phone, a woman had appeared dressed half as a saint and half as a woman belonging to the royalty. After having been back to my senses from the sudden horror, I tried to sit up in my bed and greet the woman and ask for the purpose of her visit at this hour. I couldn’t. I was fixed at my spot and this woman came and sat at one corner of the bed. Then she started pressing my feet. I could not feel the touch but I sure could behold the sight. And then came a song from her unmoving lips, a sound so shrill it could literally crack window panes, but it didn’t. It was a melody. So I lay there in juxtaposition of the bed and the woman, trying helplessly to move, to save my life if it were meant to end now. I could not do anything, I knew it somehow. Around 5:30 in the morning, the sun’s first rays came into the room. And there was another sound; I took a look at my cell phone again, got a confirmation of the time. The woman stood up, smiled and walked out. I got out of my bed, tried to pretend as if nothing had happened. When I went down, the owner of the house looked at me as if he knew what had happened that night; he asked me if I had any strange dreams. It was not a dream. I don’t remember them so clearly… 

The Story of the Overhaul

My blog "Nomadic Diaries" (formerly, nomadic aspirations) had been lying dead for quite a time. As the blog description reads, I hoped my mind would find it a frequent visiting destination which did not come up as expected. A few posts out of anxiety and then I remained still without reason. I know I've been lost and begging for more.  

Talking about the overhaul, the biggest observable change would of course be the name. I reflected upon the name only to find out that I have almost settled with the "aspiration" part of my life. Nomadic Diaries comes up as my posts would continue to be my views, this time with a little more insight into issues and entertainment. To be writing essays, critiques or analyses is not my idea of blogging and hence to suddenly shift over to these would be quite a task for me. I will, however, go into matters that I find worth talking about and this time I hope these are matters which would be supported by readers (whatever fraction I can gather). Overhaul, yes I have gone through the physical appearance and layouts as well. I must admit that a friend's blog which he calls The Pucca Critic has been quite inspirational for me to go ahead with the changes in appearance. But my blog still remains simple in outlook and I hope to catch on gradually. 

Not with this post that I'll hit the panic button but I will certainly try to pursue blogging a little more seriously. Till the next time (soon, i.e.), it's a goodbye. 

"I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some..." - Jason Mraz

  

A Tryst With Television

Writing after a long while is certainly a pleasure. Not very much into the idiot box anymore (after the year 2008 or so), I may not be the right person posting this but after all this space is mine. So let me have the the opportunity to elucidate the series of events that pushed me towards this painful activity.

I lived a normal life with all the modern facilities (the internet, basically), food and water (for thirst as I have always maintained, is a very dangerous thing) till one day when the internet started behaving human. As the world comprises of much more smarter people today than ever before, I reckon it is unessential to elaborate the working of the internet and servers on which it works. By the way, I think that even I might get confused in the process of explanation. So, in  the vernacular of the common man, the servers were down. I looked behind to ensure that the food and water were safe enough. For a couple of minutes, I played with the idea of dozing off for the whole day but it wouldn't be fruitful as the pain of separation from all the three essentialities would be unbearable. Hence, I looked for alternatives. In the vicinity, I heard a sound, a strange but familiar one. I tried to recollect where I had heard this one. In a flash, it occurred to me that it 'might' be the television. I still remember watching it ... in the days when people believed cartoons were real, and cellphones were mythological instruments of communication (I am good with exaggerations).

So I decided to live, only to die another day as James Bond would have said it. A long battle with the family members earned me the remote control. The remote control is one fine instrument and hence the battle, I must add. Within no time, I saw myself surfing through the channels. There were a lot of them, sports channels, entertainment channels, kids' channels, music channels, channels airing bull-shit, yes literally, it was certainly there on some channel that egotistically called itself an Animal Planet. Fascinated, I watched them, one after the other. Something called "daily soap" was very interesting. From that old lady who must have been in her grave by now to the kid who created all the nonsense that the show required, the supposed thirty minute show was something inexplicable. Why the middle aged woman cried was a mystery and the child artist's over-acting was history (perhaps in the making). Then I chanced upon something new, a Discovery in the sense of the word. There were humans, there was science, there were animals and there was a battle among the three. Nobody won, except the commercials in between. Commercials were categorical : boring, intriguing, funny, and some meaningless, nonetheless. I missed watching cartoon serials, the ones I used to see as a kid, but the best part came from a familiar territory, that of music. I listened to some good music that was occasionally interrupted again by commercial advertisements. Sports channels put up a dismal performance as there was nothing LIVE on them. There were movies on some entertainment channels but I didn't have the required time to spare.

And hence ended my tryst with the television. It may have sounded like a lifetime but I'm afraid (elated, rather) that it lasted not more than two hours. I do chance upon to see the television once in a while now. We are good friends now but not the best and none of us really care, I guess, for both have busier schedules now. For such a post, a perfect conclusion can do wonders but I am in no mood for any further extravaganzas. I would only like to quote Ralph Waldo Emerson for the ending as :

We aim above the mark, to hit the mark. Every act hath some falsehood of exaggeration in it.

Silence Please !

Now through this post I would try to figure out why I had been keeping quiet all this while, now that I actually have nothing to do.

Let me start with the initial days of the supposed 'vacation' period. This 'vacation' (no inverted commas hereafter as they weren't as substantial as I had wanted them to be) was not merely a summer vacation but one that had been welcomed long before it had actually arrived ... it was after all, the end to my school life. Now as per the academic traditions here which don't spare you even a single holiday without a homework, I had, like many of fellow classmates across the country, some aspirations to fulfill, some goals to reach, and so I replaced the books on the table with my brains and started to mug up things as vehemently as possible ( studying would have been a better term, but I shall justify why I use 'mugging' ).

Starting off with the State Common Entrance Test for engineering early April , I found myself getting unexpectedly better on my birthday that co-hosted the IIT JEE exam. I would have talked about the other exams as well but pardon my tendency to speak only of good things. Hence I stop. Were the goals achieved ? Later please.

So the whole of month of April had to pass in these tedious ordeals. Just when I thought May would be better, I had my board exam results. Psst ! They were awful. Well actually, you expect a lot when you work hard on something. The same was with me. The results rendered me numb for a few days and so did the results of the various entrance exams ... I turned out to be a complete failure when it mattered the most. Nobody told me that but you expect things from yourself too at times. The aspirations unaccomplished. Done with May.

June, has by far been the best in the past three-four months ! Not because I conceded any victory but because I didn't concede any failure either. Things look pretty well in shape right now, no signs of any further damage.

Diverting from the topic of discussion hasn't always been entertaining to me but because I hadn't planned on writing this one, I guess things turned out to be bad and utterly boring. Everybody loves a heroic story, whereas only few relish upon miseries. So what was it that actually kept me away, I wondered and found out that there were quite a few factors. Studying for the boards and entrance exams is so exhausting on the mind that you lose the creativity required to carry on with the task of writing. Then, I chanced upon to give myself a facebook account and that has also been occupying my mind to some extent. The status update feature serves the purpose of a micro blog and you get more followers so complacency was bound to take its toll. Doing nothing, was I guess the most important thing done during this tenure. 

On an ending note ... I hope to be back to blogging as soon as possible. The vacationing period would end soon and I'll be busy again but I guess I am better with the blog while busy. So let's see how it turns out to be.