Memories, of your memories
January 11, 2016 § Leave a comment
Memories, of your memories.
I stand beneath that gopuram, between these pillars and ask the silence to tell me, of those days when you hid and played, unseen.
The breeze that blows is filled with the smoke of vehicles, the pillars have been reinforced by concrete and those who seek redemption drop rupees and not annas. This is a world which won’t allow me in without you- the family home is now something else- claimed by wont and avarice of those who sought more than memories and peace. The streets are dirty and the cars line the way, I try to imagine your life, as it could have been, under an emperor and a queen, protected by your namesake, under the vestiges of ancient beliefs.
The time you survived small pox and the man who said you would live albeit your world all but giving up- I cannot think of such a man, or the fact that he was a tenant on our family lands. People have measured you in your life by everything you didn’t do, and you could have done, but you lived a man of beliefs- of a secular life, equality and most of all, excellence in mind and thought. You taught me history, you told me the ways of the world, and gave me stories. And you gave me a philosophy, you gave me a heirloom which none else could have done. For long I felt it was a burden, but in that I found emancipation. I wish I could talk to you about what I feel now, where I stand and what want- at the dining table, just you and I.
I don’t know whose pillars these are, but you were mine. This land, it holds history which stretches far, and the river which flows has reigned the veins of many a maverick.
Do I belong here? You did. I belonged to you, as only a grandson can. Who else would entertain every foible of mine?
Memories, of your memories. I live with them, unburdened now. In them I see who I could be. I am what I am today because of who you were.
3 January went by, but it was unlike any other day, for your birthday will always be special to me. Now, I write, with a tear in my eyes, for none can be you for me(or I for you.)
We humans tend to glorify life, and for its sake death. But, no grandeur can last longer than the last breath. Our histories are ours. To the rest they are but stories and tales, a once upon a time. And in my history there is you, and your stories. In your last breath, you reached for what you believed. I hope in mine, I do the same.
Memories, of your memories.
The isms of school life
November 21, 2008 § 11 Comments
Pessimism:- You never know everything that is there to be known before an exam.
Optimism:-You can always look forward to coming back home after exams and sleeping.
Terrorism:-Exams morns,they bombarded you with thing which you never expected/didn’t know existed.
Materialism:-You invariably want everyone’s lunch(or)you wonder if you could get that useless phone your friend is talking about.
Euphemism:-You tell the teacher you were studying and forgot the book at home,when in fact you felt that the book was heavy and a waste.
Fascism:- Politeness is not another brick in the wall nor being a part of an “English medium” school means that everything is English-its all appearance.
Racism:- *The following statement has been deleted by the author,to avoid trouble* Well lets be emphatic and put it simply as ,”we Indian’s are all racists-it just runs deeper than race” variably or invariably,your bound to feel that something is not just right there-the teachers themselves speak about “tamil’s(south Indians) and North Indians’ attitude.yet this is so innate in our system,that we really don’t realize that we are racists.(well if there is such a word-castists)
Humanism:-Being “good” is something which never does any good.Unless you can swear in at least three language and come up disgusting things on the spot,you are not human.Being part of humanity is a privilege and school teaches you that.
Pragmatism:-The best way to finish your assignments/home works in the shortest time possible,is to be creative-with your answers and reasons(if you cannot meet the deadline).
Socialism:-Everyone gets similar marks/everyone doesn’t submit their work/everyone accepts the blame.
Conservatism:-Year after the year,the students conserve one thing-becoming worse.If a batch fails to get the “you are the worse people we have ever seen”,then they have broken the tradition.
Sentimentalism:-Emotions are always on a high.What else happens when every guy feels a need to go out with a girl but then realizes that it is not worth it-either it is too emotional,empty pockets.
realism:-The world is a cruel place,the teachers themselves have seen only a part of it and keep telling you how you will be ruined if you go out,they are scared it seems,if not why are they teaching anyway?We can do away with a few of those teachers.
naturalism:-No not walking naked.Lieing comes naturally to every student.We are racists,here also-we have white lies which are supposedly small and harmless,when in fact we were ruled by them for over 200 years.
fundamentalism:-The religion is being a good student and the scriptures being arbitrary laws passed on from gen to gen and of course amendments made every year,unsaid but felt.The latest law I observed-don’t be kind to your Seniors,swear on their face.
Alotropism:-Walking in a straigth line,is for the KG kids,not for 12th standards.
Absenteeism:-School is boring and waste of time,when everyone is present.It is more fun when there are 7-8 absentees per day.The teachers waste their time and energy trying to convince those who are present,that bunking school is not good.
Plagerism:-One person does the work,others copy.Life lesson learned early.Also the early bird catches the worm 🙂 Or the first guy to school gets the book 🙂 But then i have my own way,scribble to excape 🙂
Falsism:-When people say things,just to satisfy someone,like a teacher.This in itself is an art,’cause most people would find it tough contradicting themselves.
Heroism:-Something which doesn’t apply to me, no i cannot lie.My Achilles heels seem to surface at the wrong time,well i wasn’t the hero,but at least i wasn’t zero.
Cynicism:-You hate it when people disturb you while you are looking at someone 😉 or catching up on your sleep.You support the fact that wanting it all,is the way to be.Yet the cynic is an abridge of the hero,at least in scolastic terms- in the eyes of his fellow socialists,he is viewed with much contempt.
Individualism:-Something which i follow.This basically includes not copying and standing on your own ,at whatever cost-makes sure you never get complacent.
Nihilism:-School,is just an eye wash.We don’t need no education.
Escapism:-Albeit this not being a cardinal virtue in any religion,it is in reality one.No one can ever sit in a class and not wonder to the fairy lands,rather chic lands.Procrastination is a vice,we don’t put off things,our clocks run on different time zones.
I am searching for more isms which have an affinity to the Indian school life.I have no clue what the difference is between here and in some monkey/donkey land,for the simple reason,I have been in this zoo,for the past 13 something years.Whatever maybe,i ardently support the cause of revamping our education system,for the simple reason,it is truly the survival of the strongest.Now don’t get me wrong,i do believe only the strong should live,but then this is might is right-more of parasites and hypocrites survive.
As the curtains call on my school life,the next stage of hunting and donating begins.This is one country where socialism of another kind exists,where in the rich pay donations,while the poor get in through reservations.If you don’t understand the underlying philosophy,i suggest you tune your cognition to Indian standards.While our English text books propagate Stephen Splender and ending the many veils thrown upon our beautiful society,the society reinforces its bleak views by holding on tightly,lest the prices drop.
This was supposed to be a humorous post and the humour lies in the fact,that i am wasting my time writing this,when in fact,the only satisfaction i can ever get would be the comments.I might sound like a pessimist,but than being a hero,demands too much and i am not willing to go through the pain,not all alone.The society can burn in its own fire,I am going to be all but a responsible citizen of the future-I will step aside and let the fittest of the worse prevail and then see what i can do about it.The innate goodness is all good,unless you exhibit it for the sake of others,so i will keep it for myself and those who i care about.This is the maturity school has bought on me.Of course i should also credit this enigmatic blogging world for adding a few layers of matured dust on me-this after all is another one of those places,where we the public talk and talk and never do anything about what the majority seem to be thinking.This post is running of track,true,but then nostalgia is such,that it doesn’t allow precision.If i had written this in my English paper,i might have got better marks.
All the above mentioned isms are just the tip of the ice berg(through i have never seen a ice berg).If i were to dig,i can come up with more historically and archaeologically valuable visceral facts,that would send those bespectacled men into a binge.But for that accurate reason,I shall keep it all to myself,until another time,when little Tommy doesn’t want to play.This post essentially is to make me feel good and the psychological and chemical reactions with me,point that i have achieved that.
While the nexus might be inaudible,the bottom line is this-My school life is drawing to a close,in all of four months time.I shall soon be out into the big bad world,all dressed up and with memories of the days,in a wonderful school.My school is a place where i have learned a lot,positives too.That shall be aonther six yard tamilian intensified rant,so until than,i don’t think you will find me rant.
does my existence on this earth matter to you?
September 15, 2008 § 14 Comments
So does what i think,matter? Well to me it surely does and to people with whom i interact it does.Even if it doesn’t matter to those around,it surely matters to me and i will give my opinion in any matter i please and no i am not going to give reasons for ,I do it,simple because i feel like doing it. Now does my existence matter,to people around me? Instead of me answering this,i think i should let people around me answer it.See this post to know what i am talking about here.
On a larger perpective,I feel everyone has a part to play.Every drop has its value in a ocean.Everything,has an influence on everything else.As Paulo says ” When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.”
As a society too,what everyone thinks matters.And mostly people’s thinking is affected by what people around them think.History has seen many inspiring speeches which have lead to inspired actions.
An action in one thing,surely is going to induce a reaction.And like in a pond, even when a small pebble is thrown,there are ripples caused.
So again “does my existence on this earth matter to you? “
Thinking about my identity
July 23, 2008 § 13 Comments
What is the use? what is the use of this world?
It is always amazing,to know that we the significant micro(maybe even smaller) particles who make up the universe have some purpose and a life to live.Why i live my life,in a regimented way,going to school,supposedly learning things.What will it be like to be in another planet? What will I be,if i were in another planet.Would that planet too have death as we have?What is the big deal anyway of being earthling?
Think of the universe,as it is.I know it is too big to fit into my minuscule three dimensional imagination,but whatever little i can ‘see’,leaves me perplexed ,confused and in a dire need for becoming larger than life itself.Why how can something so big exist in the first place? When i was small,the sun was just ‘nature’ something which i was born into.It was a constant,to the mind which was ready to be tinkered ,it saw what what others thought they saw.The moon Always represented an old lady making ‘idly’.the beach was a place where something called waves lashed on endlessly and if i ventured into it alone,i would be eaten by it.My life was of prime importance to me.Being another heir of the mistake stricken ,unwanted humanity,survival was the instinct.
But as i grew up,i slowly realized,that things are different.In fact education does at least that much to you.You are told that we belong to a solar system and that the moon goes around us.The next time i saw the moon,i looked at it as an entity who was moving around the earth.Now i am digging really deep to feel what i felt then.It is surprising that ‘life’ is so old.What are these memories? So are we a dream,a memory too?
Me writing rather typing,is an memory in more ways than one.Since i am writing i do not care what happens else where around me.Why would i react when i am content,why the moment will always be embedded in me,carved into me,for i am in tune with the reminiscence of the world’s making. Did we go to the heavens because earth never satisfied us? Why when did we realize that we were nothing more that illusive little creatures,who don’t know anything?
On earth everything has the touch of man,as it has of ‘god’.Almost all our fellow creatures,all the flora and fauna which were painted with the magic wand along with us ,have been cut,dissected,bisected,trisected and researched upon. We have arrived at the conclusion that we are the only ones who can think the best.We were after all the once who discovered the existence of God.
Our identity as human beings,has perpetuated from our predecessors.But deep inside all of us know that this is not our absolute identity.When we look at the sky and stare stars and suns ,we feel an old belonging ,the sight of home,after an hiatus to hibernation. Since we are the clever modern super humans in terms of an ever expanding brain and since we know about the big bang and such and such,we run a particle accelerator inside our cramped cavity,reproducing with a eerie contentment,what we feel is the origin of the universe.We revel in it for a few spectacular moments,we run the jocund clowns of happiness in us to such speeds that ecstasy is what we pronounce.We are all happy to be home,we wish to keep seeing our Gods for longer,but the ever severing mind,declares that you have to break the bonds,to live life and produce yourself to sacrifice for the betterment of man.You don’t want it.Who wants to move from home,after a long voyage?Who wants to travel,when travel is all he has done?Who wants to swim,when he has all the while swam?Yet since you are the mind,with a rhetoric puffed up displeasure you try to satisfy your real want with a chronic happiness ,which is at most momentary and small enough to displease the materialistic narcissistic in you and carry on with it.I am trying to write something and all the while i am thinking of the wonderous world,whose width widens my perspective.I am here and i am not.
What is my identity?Am i a lost sibling of a distant star,for whom if i am found,i will look the same as when i landed on Eden? Or have i crossed an Adam’s bridge,to burn all that was bad and mortal? Am i an entity for whom this body was a lease,lent by earth to write off her ever lasting loans?Or am i, simply an animal,a tainted beast,with the curse of thought and want of fantastical fantasies to suit my ill-tempered unbalanced mind?What am i anyway?
Yes,i feel lost.Yes i feel lost here too.Yet i can hear the world,but i can’t see it.I can hear the old song,but my eyes have grown used to this,so that the old song,is a poignant, nostalgic de -javu.i dream up lands,i build my castles.I am a man,a human,who has written tales upon tales with fairies and fun and frolic but i am also the man who writes edifices and breaths the voice of an enigmatic Satan,a suitable tool ,one sprung during my autumn,to sooth the God in me.yet i know,i do not need him,for i was the one who gave god a face,which he can hold high and i was the one who taught him to write,so that he can say what he felt.I lent a being bigger than me,i lent it not one but two identity,i created a juxtapose of the good and the bad,of light and night,of God and Satan,yet i fail at lending myself a single identity.I call myself the third.I am happy to pull the strings of the first too.Yet my fingers move without my knowledge in my sleep,they want home and what they see is that destruction can retrace me,to where i belong.
There is music playing in the background.The song is melodious.It is a classic,it breaths life into the creature,whose identity is his name and his music.Why what caused him to play and create music?Did he realize that if he struck his strings and quietened the world with symphonies ,he might be able to shriek out for his lost sibling?Or did he realize that when he played his music,he could be himself ,free and inheritor of freedom,the absolute transparent being,who could smile away adversity and sleep ugly to beauty? I am listening to his and with gusto summoning my aesthetic consciousness to appreciate his ballades.I try to feel the same joy he felt when his fingers were let lose upon the keys,to key in the codes of his disparity among humanity.But his code was always good,for such is the magic,of the hands who are at home,always,poor pathetic things,they can’t see nor hear,they are slaves whose only wish is to satisfy their master, as they feel that is their duty and destiny.
Movements.The breeze tickles the trees.Those gigantic beings let out giggles.Why among humanity their existence is varied.One day they are paraphrased as the basic need for the survival of humanity’s earth,the next day,they are cut by the very hands,oh! pathetic hands,they are the only ones who want to get us home.
If my hands know my home,then why don’t I?Should i close my eyes,for all eternity,so that the reality has a chance to roll the dice and bring me home to see its son?I wish i could,but i have a mind,who is a ardent appraiser of the rebellious me.I am torn by my hands,physically and by my mind mentally.I ask you both,i think of either home or heaven-hell only when i am felt free,to my peace.They refuse.I shut my eyes.The hands sway the puppets of infinity,they try to hail home closer.The mind eats into me,they ruthlessly try to disrupt the harmony and bleed my namesake into surrender,but they fail ,neither will give up,i am the used,i am the user,i am between myself.I am still wondering about me and my true reality,one thing is for sure,i will lose mortality when i find the reality,let it be soon.Mortality is lost,when sense of reality is found.
May the world be in peace.Home is not far away,the darkest night,is the last of winter,the coldest water is one before the hot.Let the world exist at it should,let every man reach his harbor and let every flight end at home,may the world be in peace,i go to sleep….
about me ,thinking and questioning
July 2, 2008 § 10 Comments
I am what i am.That is it.Do i think too much? Well i don’t know,but if i didn’t think,then i will not be me.It isn’t supposed to be two posts about me,i wasn’t planning this,but then it struck me that i need to clarify a few things.
A lot of you ask me,am i really 16? It is easier to laugh this one out.I wonder why people think i am not 16 .The reason might be that i think differently.Now i wonder why i think differently. The fact that i think differently from the majority of people in my age group is tough to accept.To me,there is nothing strange in asking questions,questioning is life.
The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein (1879 – 1955)
Questions,questions and more questions exist in this world.As Einstein says,there is no limit to asking questions.I ask myself why do i question? And the replies i get are infinite,for my mind can think without rest.I try to let my mind think all its want.I like dreams,i like the impossible ,i like fantasies to say the least.
So why should I come back to this so called “reality” of yours? I am pretty comfortable with where I am.If you want come with me and i will show you the way i think,but it isn’t easy for me to accept what you think.I love to watch clouds.I love the silence of night.I love to dream.And most of all ,i love it when my brain and heart churn out answers.it must be the greatest feeling to get answers,but then all answers lead to more questions and so think more.
Look at all the sentences which seem true and question them.
Now i haven’t progressed much here.I am still caught up.I am still trying to think out if i should be writing this.As i said i am very happy in the world i live.When someone says a no to something,i believe it can mean a yes.i believe that i can find solutions to the perennial problems of humanity,for i can think.yet thinking does lead to dead ends.Those are the times when you are left desperate,that is when you press your mind to think harder and you wish and think that you can think that one out.
Judge of a man by his questions rather than by his answers.
Voltaire (1694 – 1778)
this is one of the most truest sayings.And so i shall end this with a few questions:
why all this?
why not think?
why a end?
why a beginning?
why a nation?
why big bang?
and here is what i think about everything
SOLUTIONS ARE CREATED BEFORE PROBLEMS
June 22, 2008 § 14 Comments
Aaarti has tagged me 🙂 This time it is to reveal ten things people here do not know about me 🙂
So here goes:-
1) I am 16(to be 17 in 25 days) going on 6 & 60 🙂
2) either i am very pensive or very happy 🙂
3) If i don’t like something,i don’t do it 🙂 If i am forced to,i will sulk about it,but then i might start liking it 🙂
4) I like to dream and imagine a lot 🙂
5) Even in a crowd of a million,i can be alone and well if i feel like interacting,i a room of 100 i might know everyone 🙂
6) It is very tough to catch me,when i haven’t done something,which i am supposed to do 🙂
7) I am lazy alright,but once i ‘wake up’ i like to do things really fast and am known to finish (work which others take hours to complete) in a few minutes(this excludes maths).
8) I like rain,storms and hill stations and hate heat and summer.
9) I love to travel and see new places.
10) what is the 10th thing about me ,which you all donno ? well a lot,but to keep it short, I am crazy and one of fav things to say is i hate humans 🙂 (no offense meant)
So here goes the tagging:-
MY LIFE,POEMS AND LIVING
June 15, 2008 § 13 Comments
I am feeling extremely stupid right now.If you are wondering why,it is because i don’t why i feel stupid.No i know it doesn’t make sense,but what am i doing anyway? Living ,might be an answer.But what is the big deal about living? i am Living,alright,so why should i bother about it? What is life anyway?This is what wiki says
“Life is a condition that distinguishes organisms from non-living objects, such as non-life, and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism and reproduction”. Wow,so basically i too am a machine,programmed by something else.No i cannot accept this.Why should be what someone else wants me to be?I am an plagiarist then,writing what someone else has already done,including this.
I am still awe of the world.I just cannot stop being overwhelmed by how huge it is.I want to go out of earth and see it,Pictures aren’t enough.I want to see it with my own eyes.It is not that i don’t believe that earth exists and that it is as the pictures show it,but i want to see it for real.Having lived all my life inside something,i want to go higher.Yet can i ever become bigger than life? i hate being a hypocrite,so i will tell the truth,i still don’t know much about the world.Yes,i write a lot about the world,but i do not know from where it all comes.I feel very uncomfortable calling myself a poet,for i am a tool,yes a mere tool of something that has created me.I badly want to know the real me.What am i really like? What is it that makes a lot of people not like me?
Is it that a tool,is a mere tool and that a few see the beauty and a few the use of it? What is beauty anyway? Starting every sentence with capitals,drawing the eye at the last? Starting from a lower pitch? Who can define beauty? Wiki says ” Beauty is a characteristic of a person, place, object or idea that provides a perceptual experience of pleasure, meaning or satisfaction. Beauty is studied as part of aesthetics, sociology, social psychology and culture. As a cultural creation, beauty has been extremely commercialized.”
There are times i hate what i write.Yet if i hadn’t started writing,i doubt if i will be living.Writing has meant more for me.It doesn’t matter,that when i write i am not in control of myself,nothing matters to me,especially when i am writing something long.It is when i write that i feel a perennial peace within me.It is when i write,that i feel some purpose for my living.It is when i write,that
the world i live in seems real.Otherwise nothing seems real to me.I still feel like a five year old about my world.I am more matured in accepting a few things and not reacting to insults.
Blogging means a lot to me.As i said before,if not for writing i don’t know what i will be.And i have been to share my feelings ,here openly.I have met a lot of great people.I have met people,who have given me the courage to do things my way.though i still find it difficult to come in terms with life and humans as such,i am able to appreciate,people for what they are.
I have written about 175 poems till now.Each one is different and same in a lot of ways.i do not know,how good a writer i am.I cannot judge,something which comes to the world through me,i have to accept it ,for whatever it is.But i think i am not that good a writer,for i have tried to get my poems published,but all my applications have been turned down.But that doesn’t matter,for if not today,someday.Might be after i die,it might get recogonised.
I should thank the whole world,for its contribution,in helping me realize,what is inside me.i still remember,sitting in class,feeling depressed,in a corner.And then suddenly it came to me,from where i do not know.I wrote my first major poem- MOTHER INDIA.After that came THE SEA.These poems,till today are my favorite.They were my eye opener,in lot of ways.They took away the feeling of uselessness from me.i no more felt like i was useless.They gave me a confidence.And till today that is what keeps me going.
I thank you all,you are all the forces which still teach me.You all are the people who help me keep going.I thank all of you.
what comes to your mind?
May 1, 2008 § 9 Comments
what comes to your mind,when you hear these words:-
October 3, 2007 § Leave a comment
please:- have a read.
to fuel my head.
and help see the world
as not laying dead.
the soft words of compassion
and the last breath of passion.
Beauty is what remains
and death is but mere transmission.
Inside there is a truth
and the world becomes mute.
Deep in ,you feel a light,
grow bigger and to fight
would be not worth while.
The spirits take you
and you fill the soul
-of the world and self.
With fresh thoughts
and blood,arise you
from the waters
that fill the remains.
every creature has a mind
and it is there-fiend
or angle is a shadow.
What lies in the dark corners?
It is for that, the light shines.
It is darkness first,
is the sigh of higher wit,
where you evolve
and boundaries dissolve.
Dissolute and precarious
-the seemingly wild nature
of life conspires with the self
to reach a higher twilight.
has a dawn
to follow and it is then,
after a slumber
that one is mature and fresh.
There is a language
one which has no age.
What lays ahead
and what flew fast
or crawls now,
is a mere reflection,
like the sea to the sky,
like the moon to the sun.
To know you need to go.
Go places which are beyond
the physiologies and topographies,
travel through your heart
and reach the inner layers
of the sole soul.
In the stars lie the worlds,
one among is you.
In you there are stars,
which shine at intensities
which need a telescope
and that is you.
It is so finely knit,
that at times it
will be more perplexing
the alacrity of one lies
in him,it is a latent
talent,which will breath
only when there is life.
When roaming around
what we profound
is the product
of hands that are much yours
as everyone else’s.
If you see life
as a curse,
then it is a boon.
for the fire
The laughter of trees.
the fear of the unknown-
The insects who
are innocent and we
who know.Why light
the dark spots?
the hard wars fought
will remain in memory
-as a battle tale to be told.
Let us accept that faith
can easily bathe
it is fueled by fear.
If we were to conquer
is more severe and sever
it will our hearts and
to stand excruciation
we need belief and have
faith-in what we belief.