Latent Fears

Some dreams are not meant to be openly expressed. They seem to live, only to remind us of what we wanted to make of ourselves. They're images that 'we could've been someday'. That red dress... the neatly combed braid flowing amidst her long black hair shining under the spot light... while the music unleashes violently through her fingers... grace and tranquility at its extreme... performance at it's best. It was a dream. A dream that I don't think I even realised I had. Until oneday, when I realised that I'd chosen to trod a different path all together. 

The choice is not regretful. And who'd ever admit his folly anyway?! But the fear of losing that one thing that defines my nature, is deathly.  Latent fears are not well understood, until they surface, and they do so, at the most unwanted of times. 

Do you have a dream? Not one that you can spell out, but one that you recognise yourself in... not one that you'd  reduce to bragging about, but quietly admire yourself in? I do hope you get to realise it before it's too late. For it certainly is on my part. And once you've trodden a different path, you tend to get lost in the maze. And there's no turning back. After all, there's only one life we're playing this game with.

An encounter

I had been sitting there for over an hour. So long, and so lost in thought, that I hadn't even noticed the old man who'd seated himself next to me on the bench. We were two strangers aimlessly staring into the wide expanse of the beautiful lake. He'd placed his walking stick right next to him... dangerously balancing on the railing of the bench. His wrinkled face spoke of years of wisdom. And his silent smile passively unveiled his acceptance... of the world, and the situations that moulded him. I'm too young to understand that, I am told. And I believe I am too young to implement this wisdom. That's the funny thing about wisdom. It isn't really learnt, until one learns it through his mistakes. We will never realise what hardship is, until we actually face it. No number of tales and stories from grandparents will ever make us realise what it is to live through a war. Or to fight for independence. Even as I write this, I probably still don't fully understand. And the truth is, I never will, unless I actually live through it myself. 

But this aimless gaze, wasn't about no war or hardship. It was just a sea of careless thoughts trying very hard to find place to settle. It was as though he'd read my mind.... when he said,

" I have been coming here for over fifty years now, child. What brings you here?"

"Aimless pondering Sir. This is my favourite spot by the lake."

 " Well, for fifty years, this has been my favourite spot too.." And he smiled.

" I guess some things never change over time Sir."

"Hmm. Only people tend to, child. Only people tend to. And do you know why?"

"No Sir"

"Well... it's the situations. The people they meet, the aspirations and desires they wish to fulfill... and of course... all the planning."

"All the planning?"

"Why yes! All the planning. You see ... a wise man once said, always expect the unexpected. There's only so much of your life that you can plan. The rest... is well, quite out of our control. But people don't easily accept this fact. And that, child, is the root of all unhappiness. And of course, change. "

"But change is good isn't it Sir?"

"You can say so. But only if it's permanent. People don't change permanently, or... forever. Human beings, by nature, adapt. They get lost in who they are required to be. And it takes that one scent... that one familiar tune... or that one acquainted taste or place to remind them of their true selves...."

I tried considering what he said... do people really just merely adapt? What about all the life changing incidents I had heard about? ... did it all just teach us to accustom ourselves to the situations? ... may be I'm too young to understand. My mother always tells me I haven't seen enough of the world to judge anything or anyone. In that case I certainly haven't seen enough to conclude anything here.... but as I stared out into the vast waters of the lake... there seemed to be a peace in this thought that engulfed me. People, across the world, are the same. And yet... there's so much difference? There was a tiny part of me that was satisfied by the thought of all people having an innate commonness. Despite the disparities, they were essentially the same.

In excitement I turned to face the old man ....

But he was gone... disappeared in the growing darkness... silently...

Affliction

Pain... is inevitable. We are often hurt by the people who matter to us the most (why else would we consider our feelings if they didn't matter to us anyway?!) .... and more often than not, it's painful. Hurt , is painful. It can also be regretful. Remorseful. And most definitely, sorrowful. But do we realize how it is this pain... and this sorrow... that makes life so much more meaningful? 

There's a depth in pain. And we always tend to over look this acumen and dwell in the more commonly known pain. But do we realize that it is that loss... that profound misery... that unexpected accident that actually reveals our inherent strength? Strength of mind and purpose.... it is in fact this painful regret that leaves us with a lesson learnt. Sometimes it makes us realize the value and worth.... and almost always, it shows us how things can also be the way we don't imagine them . 

I believe it is this pain... and more specifically hardship, that constitutes wisdom. We get to see the 'other side'. Explore the pitfalls of emotion... and appreciate the despair of defeat. Life is incomplete if one faces no distress.  It makes one incapable of feeling... if one hasn't felt the worst of emotions. And yet, it makes one incomplete if one hasn't felt the best of emotions either! As it's popularly known,

"Everybody hurts sometimes"....  and " ... falling down ain't falling down if you don't cry when you hit the floor"... 

Everything will be alright. Pain.... is inevitable.

Change.

Have you ever felt that surge to express? That heart wrenching feeling to just be able to materialize everything that's going on through your mind? A mad mad expression... continuous inexplainable flow of thought that comes barging at you with such dexterity that you are left with no other option but to let it flow out on paper? I have. The truth is, everyone has ... at least at some point of time or the other in their lives. Some go ahead with it. The others confine. They have, what I like to call, self learnt self control.

The bitter truth in this matter lies in the fact that society moulds us that way. It teaches us to think logically, always. To express appropriately, always. Everything has to make sense. Everything needs  to make sense. Man must understand, as or else, you're wrong. Your expression is wrong. Your art is artless and writing tasteless. Song tuneless and music rhythm-less. Do we want to be categorized as unworthy of expression? Of course not! So we confine. And we mould. We shape ourselves to be what the world wants us to be. 

But may be sometimes... just sometimes... one must let go! Let go of all this conformity. Let yourself indulge. Express!! Take those cartons of paint, and splash them onto the canvas. Let that feeling of expression... flow! Let your pen scribble on the whiteness till the ink blots. Let it not make sense! Let no historian analyse and over analyse and ruin the raw bohemian beauty of that piece of creation! All these patterns and trends and predictions... does it leave room for raw human expression? Does everything necessarily have to fall into a set routine or motion? I certainly hope not... this habitual existence has made us into mere conformists. Bloody emulating conventionalist's. It is said that change is inevitable... and so change there shall be. But only when we dare to break out of this mundane existence. Dare to be different. Dare to express, differently.

Feel the happiness?

I was talking to a friend the other day, when I stumbled upon a question that I hadn't really asked myself before, and yet, I expected an answer out of him. He was the recipient of some extremely exciting news... news that brought him both success and fame. On hearing about this good news I gently inquired... "Wow! What did you do when you found out ??"

And he said, " Nothing. I smiled"

"Just smiled? But this is big! How did you express your excitement??"

"I was happy! I smiled!"

He smiled. And I paused for a second. Just to give it a thought.

What would you do if you found out something superbly thrilling? Something that you had been waiting for all your life! A news that made you so supremely happy... the occurrence of an event that made you so profoundly proud... what would you do? How does one anticipate the expression of his excitement? It's strange, but the answer to that question is not that simple. At times I wonder if it's because these fleeting blissful moments are so rare that we don't really get to work on how to express it. But then again, that is what defines it. The rarity of an evanescent touching moment makes it so difficult to express when it does materialize... and makes it all that more beautiful and worth cherishing. Does the expression really matter? I guess not. The important part is that you feel it... that heart exploding feeling... of happiness.  

Growing up?

When I was younger I used to wonder... what will it be like when I grow up? What does it mean to be 'grown up'? It seemed so over rated... everyone was always telling me... 'you will realise this once you're older'. So that's what it is? Just a couple of more years of mere existence on earth? It didn't make sense. Was there a certain day when it happened? A certain situation that brought out the 'grown up' in me? But I realise now...

Growing up is a journey. One through which we learn many a lesson. Growing up makes one realise that a lot of our dreams , may not come true... for whatever the reasons. But dreaming is important anyway.. as that is what gives one hope... lets one strive. And many a time, it's what causes painful dissatisfaction. 

Growing up is a journey through which one learns that no one is ours for ever. As cliched as it may sound.. the truth to this statement can only be learnt over time. We own, no body. Be it an unexpected flip in nature or Gods will... no person's mind or heart belongs to us for ever. Or at least, we can't expect it to. The bitter truth is we grow out of people, and cherished friendships. But if time reveals the fairytale truth , it's the happy ending we're all looking for isn't it? And then again... the happy endings never really end there do they? There's always more... just unwritten lines on blank pages.

Growing up is a journey through which one learns to make choices. Some very life changing choices too... and one learns how to live by them. It's the path you choose... and once chosen, there's no turning back. Live with it.

I was watching the Grammy's today. I hadn't the faintest idea of the nominees or the performers... in fact I hadn't even heard of some of the winners before ... and yet, i made it a point to watch. It's just something I do. Watch the Grammy's religiously year after year... I guess it has to do with certain associations. It reminds me of all those times when I was younger... and I'd watch the exact same award ceremony... with the exact same people... sitting on the exact same couch... only with dreams and aspirations that I hoped to accomplish someday. But as juvenile as those aspirations may seem today, it reminds me of all those times when I had ample possibilities before me and I actually dreamed big... and believed in all those things that I'd be one day.

Dhobi Ghat (the mumbai diaries)

It's funny writing this review after my last post, considering how this movie, in my opinion, is 'beautiful' in every sense of the word. From perfect screen shots to the delicately crafted characters... it is a movie in so many layers that one watch may not suffice. 

Four people. Four dreams. One busy city. It is a story that unveils four very strong characters who have come to accept their present reality. And among the many colorured threads that hold the movie together, the one thread that stood out to me the most, was that of inspiration. Four bold stories of inspiration. A lonely married woman, who sees happiness in the simple things in life. Notices the power of the natural beauty that surrounds her and who comes to accept her fate, not bitterly, but by reaching out ... hoping that someday a loved one will receive her messages. An artist, quite maturely understanding of the world and its ways... who finds his muse in these preserved recorded messages. He discovers a hidden world that inspires him to throw light on it... and he tries to re create what he understands of it... 

A banker, back in town to work on a project that requires her to take photographs of small businesses... she meets the everyday man... a dhobi... who inspires her and befriends her... And he himself who desires to be an actor someday. Now that I'm attempting to re write what I saw in the movie, I realise how difficult it really is on my part to do so! There were so many intertwined stories... and I've only tried to bring out the one on inspiration. How four individuals, from completely different strata of society come to play such an important part in each others lives... how they unleash creativity and subtly encourage the other to really reach out in whichever form... how we may never realise it, but we are what we see around us! We are a combination of the people we've met, and the company we've kept. 

But then again, all four individuals knew their place... the entire movie was like a brief two hour entry into a diary of how the lives of these four people changed, and how then... they moved on... there was no specific happily ever after (as there always seems to be in the filmy reality) but instead there was an intense show of passion  ... and the movie, redolent with innocent human emotion, also show cased some beautiful aspects of the busy city of Mumbai. All in all... I believe this was a film that exhibited so many different forms of simplistic love and emotion... stories of inspiration .... that the viewer would see things in the same angle that he would reflect on his life. That is what makes this movie so beautiful... true art in true art forms. A painter. A photographer. An aspirant actor. And the recording of a simple woman, with simple human wants.