Friday, 29 June 2012

Across Lifetimes



Moments when I spot the light,
That yellow one,shining bright.
I am taken back into time,
See lanterns hanging in my sight.
A hut I see too,
People also a few.
I am there for sure,but not a concrete being.
Thus no identity recognized.
None required.

On other occasions,I feel the wind.
Bringing memories of a place I can’t remember.
But the oppression and the fear it carries,
Makes me a part of the scene.
Some days I see a courtroom,
A proceeding so familiar,
That I fear deception.

On others I see a prison.
A courtyard enveloped in darkness,
Some ideals still hanging on the walls,
Some heroism still peeping through the rails.
A temple too comes in flashes sometimes,
A faint chant,a faraway essence.
But the devotion in the air,
Seems to have flown across lifetimes,
The surrender across ages.

So,I seem to have fought wars,
Seen revolution,
Suffered and died.
Held on to some ideals,
Freed myself of others.

I seem to have been at Your terrace,
Moon light washing it white,
Some potted flowers blooming in the night.
The place I am reluctant to recognize,
But the breeze flew You nearer than now.

No concrete picture,
No preposterous recollections
No grand revelations.
Just a simmering bond, which pulls and lets go,
Rekindles the moments truly awake.
Shows an eternal existence,
An ancient quest.
Melts the concept of identity,
Makes a mockery of names.

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

Rescue Me

I am unable to reach You,
Unable to feel,
To live You.
I am unable to read You,
Unable to write,
To experience You.
I know my folly,
Yet there is a fear,
the possibility of losing You,
fills one with inexplicable despair,
Makes one realize what one had gained in the first place..

Lost I am,
In an island surrounded by everyone's water but Yours.
Drowning I am,
In the land of darkness.
Breathing I am,
The air of suffocation.
Rescue me now,
Pull me out of this mirk.
I am ready to get pierced by Your Light,
Just let it burn all the peripheries too.
Burn everything You desire,
Everything that is required.

The burning anyways cannot cause more pain,
Than what the extinguishing is causing now.

Reflections on Autograph



 The Bengali movie Autograph(2010),has been one of the most thought provoking movies I have watched in the recent times.Reading so many views about it had confounded me,and I wanted to discover why I found it so appealing.


An arrogant superstar has been irked. His worth challenged. Status threatened.
Thus, he wants things clarified,power reinstated.
He sees an opportunity to do so when a aspiring director,with dreams in his eyes and a script in his hands,knocks at his door.
The smirking star is unmoved by the display of grit and determination,
But when the guest sticks to his principles,and does not give in to the pressure,
The gleam in the stars eyes shows his recognition of a quality he long ago possessed and has long ago forgotten.
So, this seemingly upright director gets the opportunity of a lifetime.
Unfortunate though was the fact that he could not anchor himself well,the first gush of achievements swept him off,and took with it his superficial garb of morality.
So the now shrewd,manipulative aspirant, blinded by glory’s light played a gamble of his lifetime to ensure his flight to the peaks.
Thought the star would also play along, after all, his ambitions were being met too.
There lies the irony.
The unveiling was not a one sided one. The mask had come off the star as well. And much to the surprise,a noble soul was revealed.
Yes ,though his sheets were not perfectly clean,he had his own share of weakness,mistakes and brashness.
But he also had the gift-a pricking conscience which ensured that the ghosts of his pasts,were never put to sleep.
And so a man tormented and lonely, displayed some vulnerability-generated a confession,before her who was a catalyst to his change.
Whose simplicity had bought him back to his roots,who had stripped him off his baggage of stardom and eased his journey.
But his journey was far from over,the change needed a manifestation.
So Fate played it's role and his encounter with his inner devils was recorded and leaked. The opportunist director exploited the stars most true moment
to meet both their ends-a successful movie.
And magnificent cross- roads were created. Two paths could be easily comprehended. Either the star plays along with this move and fulfills his desires. Else he punishes the director for taking him for granted. He had the power and temperament to do both.
But he took the road less traveled.
He stared at the betrayal calmly, his eyes revealing both the pain and the strength and a subtle indifference. He did not seek any explanation nor did he provide the world his justifications. He held no grudge against the offender, decided to rectify his own mistakes instead.
And so, a film which began when his ego was hurt, was scrapped when his identity was threatened.
He decided to burn the pyre of his ignorance, falsehood, ambitions and pride. And the ashes were all he was left with and a priceless smile which conveyed more than words.

A man struggling to win the race all his life, had just withdrawn from it. He knew the consequences,but cared not to evaluate it. He realized his guilt and his disgust was misplaced as in spite of being in the swamp,there was something which was untouched-It was still burning. And he had found something truer. And was willing to go to any extent to protect it.

As for the world.they would have surely scorned and mocked. Would have called it an impulsive,foolish decision. They would have easily trampled him-for them his downfall had just begun……..but he was scaling different heights. He has become a true Hero. Because:
 
There are some bargains which just cannot be made,
Some stands which just cannot be sacrificed.
Some Beings which just cannot be betrayed.
All your life you can swim in ignorance,
But when It’s voice is heard
Drown if you must.

Monday, 25 June 2012

In my view.

This is an attempt to translate the song Amar Mowte by Anupam Roy, from the movie Hemlock Society. My imperfect grasp of Bengali prevents me from doing an accurate literal translation....this is more of what I would have liked to interpret the song as.

Innumerable times I find myself
Contemplating before Your Abode.
I turn and return eventually.
In my view, there is none like You.

Innumerable times Your golden sunrays
Have come forward
To carry me through the rails of Your windows.
In my view there is none like You.

The path which leads to You
Is guarded by an army of logic.
The more I try to get past them
Using my poetry as a sheild,
The more I get Caught.
Am greeted by massive calculations
At Your door-step.
Attempting them is beyond me
And so I return confounded,
With no contact made.

Innumerable times have I broken the glass between us,
Stared at the shattered pieces,
In my view there is none like You.

Innumerable times have I soaked myself
In Your radiating Light
And sung my song to You,
In my view there is none like You.


This decaying existence is flooded
By Your Light occasionally,
But they are like the ripples of the river,
Which I could not gather eventually.
Or else all the cards I delt
Were bound to be futile,
Yet I played one last game
Amused at my attachments.

I hope to stand before You,someday
Just as I am.
Devoid of my assumed essentials.

Memento of Your Grace

What is this which seizes you,
Catches you unaware.
One moment worth a lifetime,
One blink worth the gaze.
One breath worth an existence,
One tear worth the grief.

Stay for longer if You can,
You know You are rare.
You bring the infinite in Your arms,
The bliss You can share.

You breath life into an existence,
Peace into a resistance,
Faith into a seeker,
Doubt into the mind,
Disbelief into the heart,
Excitement into the vital,
Shivers into a body,
Love into the Soul.

But You bring more than that,
You bring a memento of Your Grace


It didn't happen overnight

It didn't happen overnight.
It took ages to come to You.
Millions of deaths lived,
Lives suffered,
Paths traveled,
Has brought us to You.

Millions of shelteres abondoned,
Illusions broken,
Saviours rejected,
Has brought us to You.
Millions of doors knocked,
Masters served,
Days wasted,
Has brought us to You.

Uttering Your name has not come easy,
Choosing Your path has not come instantly.
It has been a fight all along,
A strife lived under the garb of everyday smile.
Meeting You was easy too,
Seeing Your Glimpse among a sea of imposters,
Discerning Your voice among a clatter of utterances.

Unworthy

Unworthy is this instrument,
The strings all disobedient,
The tunes all ignorant.
It betrays You everyday
Wows to make it the last,
But finds itself again at the crossroads of mistakes.

Weak is this will,
Shrinks from suffering on Your path.
Yet suffers without You.
Insincere is this aspiration,
Needs to be reminded of its purpose.
It welcomes with open arms,
Things which should not even be at the door.
And then laments...sees You receding faraway.
More and More.

Ashamed is this effort.
Starts with great vigour,
Thinks it has all the parts unified under Your mission
Only to see them falling apart,
The train shortening in seconds.

The soul stares on helplessly at its Unworthy companions.....

What a tragedy!

Not the drama, not the pain.
Not the suffering, nor the slain.
Not the destruction, not the death.
Not the evil, nor the cruel fate.
These are mishappenings for sure,
But the tragedy lies elsewhere!

Look at yourself to see its glimpse,
and you will find the word inadequate
to describe the happenings within.
The crisis of the evolving soul,
Its descent from the glowing heights,
Into the glaring depths,
Just to illuminate the whole being,
To ensure none is left behind,
None deprived of the Divine Embrace.

And it is greeted by ignorance,
Treated with resistance.
Given no chance to manifest,
None to heal the gaping wounds.

The betrayal is the tragedy,
The denial too.
The slavery is the tragedy,
The cowardice too.
Our barriers are a tragedy,
Our shackles too.
But the greatest tragedy is that
We Live it everyday,
But were never meant to do so.

Mend them Please

A room so dark,
A space so mirky,
An existence so empty,
A faith so misplaced
An aspiration so false,
An effort so insincere,
A desire so vain,
A goal so futile,
A vision so narrow,
A belief so shallow,
A mind so scared,
An ego so active,
A body so passive,
A vital so foolish,
Is all I have to lay at Your feet.

Mend them Please.

The Plunge

                                   

Things have always been so,
Been at home amidst the show,
Away from both darkness and Glow.
Then why is it so different
this time around?
Because the shackles which were in the shadow,
Have been brought to Light?
So the comfort,the balance,the ease has gone,
Leaving behind a vacuum and a strange emotion.
The indifference has changed to repulsion.
No longer am I able to convince myself,
That playing at the shore
Should be satisfying enough....
No longer able to prevent the outburst..
Because the one calling this time,
Is not a voice which can be silenced,
Or ignored,or coerced.
This is IT.
Being swept of my feet,
Am I going to be thrown into the sea,
Or into Your arms?
Have no time to answer the concerned queries of the mind,
None to plan the Plunge.