thag lenge, naina thag lenge...
jagte jadoo phookenge... neenden banjar kardenge...*
its been ages since i've blogged... really said anything left unsaid...
naina ko to dasne ka chaska laga re...
naina banwaran kardenge...*
theres a reason... its that i need severe emotional trauma to spew out my stream of consciousness dribble crutch aginst the reality of the pain which is... and i havent had any... since my life has been balanced by the last wanderer.. who i assume has stopped wandering.. ? no clue...
naino ki zuban par bharosa nahi aata... likhad pardat na raceed na khata
bin badal barsaen sawan... sawan bin barsatan...*
so i have come up with a new reason to write.. i wrote for myself.. i can only write for myself... but now ill write.. to myself.. oh the vainty.. the simple plain feel of the perfect pinot noir on your tongue... the smell of the night after the rains in the pine and cannibus laden hills of himachal... the first ray of fresh sunshine on a dreary cloudy day...
i watch from behind these cold hazel eyes.. an air of superiority.. undefined.. like a wisp of smoke.. in the air.. solid until you touch it.. it runs through your fingers like a dreamy snake, like water... it flows... away... i see scenes in front of me... i hear voices.. some old and long forgotten screaming to be heard again.. some new.. unfamiliar but with promises of the alluring freshness of a ripe peach... they speak to me.. all of them.. through the wonders of technology they pervade my space... they force themselves into my nonchalant existance.. claiming rights understood but never explicitly given...
words from songs.. that tug at the familiar.. the sense of who i am and where i come from.. swades...
philmon ke gaano main... koi to chal zid phadiye.. **
and the feeling is one of euphoria.. of an extasy.. not felt.. only experienced.. known.. wanting to be known...
the dhol... pounding in your brain.. talking of all before them who have played out this song.. far from home..
what do you hope to gain.. what speicfically do you want.. does it all come down to vain success or is there more to it.. look at her.. content in her hilly dream.. him.. with his dreams a reality.. all his dreams except the lonliness of being alone..
see them... and what do you think.. better.. worse.. doesnt matter.. not comparable.. different people different paths to nirvan.. each to his own.. bullshit...
pathar ke in ratson pe, phoolon ki ek chadaar hai...
jab se milen ho humko, badla hai har ek manzar hai...
kya mujhe pyar hai, asia khumar hai...***
is life a comparison.. who where how much... or is it more simple than that.. is it about feeling...
is life not but a series of experiences.. pain and joy.. thats it.. in its many guises in its many aliases.. in its many degrees and directions.. in its many forms and conduits.. pain and joy..
if so why be afraid of them.. they are enduring.. beyond all others.. beyond everything..
na deen hai na duniya na insaan na bhagvan.. sirf main.. sirf main..****
agony and ecstacy... the polar opposites on which this mortal existance of ours revolves.. spins.. uncontrollably..
do we accept this absolute calvanian view of inevtability.. isnt there somethign sacred..? something personal.. something.. mouldable by the self.. a reflection of who we are.. ours.. a legacy.. some thing to say that yes.. i am.. and i did.. and somewhere someone is affected..
or does it go deeper than that even... baser than even base.. underneath it alll... why the pain.. or the joy.. if its just a shuffling of the deck.. then.. why worry.. just be.. live..
drain.. and expereince.. and drain every experience.. take it in.. let it out.. be it.. be them all.. all the forms.. and shapes and conduits.. let them all come to you.. and from you.. and become you...
life...
the magical undefiend force that is beyond even experience.. even base.. life.. eternal and giving..
be life...
today.. and forever.. pledge to just be.. be... and all else will come and go and change.. you just be..
be....
*Niana, Ost - Omkara
**Chak De, Ost - Chak De
***Kya Mujhe Pyaar Hai, Ost - Woh Lamhe
****Guide, Vijay Anand
4 comments:
I'm ecstatic at the resurgence of the grand old style! This is the one I like best... Probably because it's the most evocative of what you write- life, existence and a plethora of emotions and sensations...
One would think, however, that you have this balance you refer to (most unsuitable for writing, as you say!) only because you're completely convinced of the-last-wanderer's halted wanderings... Isn't that so??? :)
The best words come when you write for yourself. And since you are back in form, doing just that... Happy writing! And welcome back :)
@p
She has halted the wanderings that would take her away, this I know.
@sim
glad to be back... eventually I'll write well.. eventually..
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