Category Archives: life

A few steps home!

1. the train home
 
 2. at the station
 
3. fight the rickshaw touts
 
 4. home sweet home
 
5. festivities

  6. meet friends

7. with self


8. contemplation

9. train away from home

Imperfections & The Institution of Marriage

Human beings are inherently imperfect animals. Downright, utterly, imperfect.

Our forefathers in the past knew this  and devised a mechanism, and thus an institution came to being – of marriage. This one institution was supposed to curb insecurities, jealousies, possessiveness, sexual greed and predatory behavior, etc., introduce a clear cut mechanism of identifying which female belonged to which male (male, being the dominant one in humans) and set up boundaries and definitions of decent community behavior.

This also helped prevent exploitation of women to some extent, though that must not have been the primary purpose. The primary purpose was to to curb those violent and destructive tendencies of men and a complete breakdown and stalemate of communities, over women. The combined energy and efforts, instead of being squandered thus, be better utilized in hunting and garnering food for the populace which required a combined, community effort.

However our ancestors overlooked the fact that human beings would still remain imperfect. While many destructive traits have been curbed substantially and definitions of man-woman relationships and body-ownerships have been adequately established (for brains, most of the times, is not even in control of the host), there remain many a imperfections which hinder sustainability of a successful marriage.

Two imperfects don’t make a perfect. Hence, in a marital arrangement, when one imperfect collides with the other, as is the case in any given marriage, fights erupt and tensions simmer.

Imagine two rocks rubbing against each other and sparks emanating. If sparks are experienced over an extended period of time, the rocks wear themselves out, lose their sheen, and become shadowy selves of their initial beings. Sometimes the sparks set the whole forest afire. Abstract imperfections like self respect, ego, and now, contemporarily, expectations and a constant lack of time, froth out of the container of an arrangement, leaving the glass half empty and sometimes violently broken.

Questions arise on the whole institution, and practicality then, of marriage. In turn, the present generation humans are bound to raise questions on the intelligence of our ancestors who set this mechanism up in the first place. But we forget that our ancestors too were humans, and hence imperfect.

Our ancestors, however, seemed to have a strong foresight – that one day their posterity, leave aside expressing gratitude, will cast aspersions and raise questions on the early efforts to salvage imperfections. Hence they devised another rule. “Thou shalt have children only post thy marriage”.

That now takes care of a majority of broken glass situations. The parents determinedly get together, and in spite of their imperfections, douse the continuous emanating sparks – even to the extent of wearing themselves out, and adapt, to provide a perfect loving platform for their resultants – hoping to raise, well, perfect children, …er…, humans!

Disclaimer: for fear of being a constant target of flying frying pans, and of being constantly pestered upon the ‘state of my marriage’ by friends and well-wishers, I would like to confess to one and all – concerned and non – that I am an ardent fan of our forefathers. Hope this answers it all, puts me clear and bare, and lays all speculations to rest.

Sound of silence

Absolute silence
This summer afternoon
Not a sound
In the house
Except for the gentle whirr of the fan
And the tick tock tick of the clockIt’s so eerie
I despair
I re-assure myself
Everything’s cool
As I lay on the bed
And become aware

Have been caught up
In the din of the world
Have become almost deaf
To the harmony in me
Impervious
To Self
And scared
Of the silence within

In the long term…

A party again
Everyone’s high
And on one’s own

Some dancing
With themselves
And others
To a funky song

A few flaunting
Some positioning
Some romancing
Some conversing with the glass
Some lost
Some realizing

Being themselves.

Most of the times
We are reflections
Of our environs
Of our expectations
Of our desires
…of the short term

Cos’ in the long term,
We don’t matter
We’re all dead!

Tea mornings & the balcony

As I sip, I take a dip into … hmm … what’s now history … 25 years back…

“C’mon get up, tea’s ready”, and my sis and I would throw off our blankets, scramble and rush tthrough the morning routines for our  favorite part of all day – having tea with dad and mom in the balcony of our ground floor garden appartment in the township. Cane chairs would be pulled up, the swing would be set on a slow motion and hot tea would be served. My bro exercised a choice – he might join or not – all depending upon how late he woke up.

There would be casual conversations and laughs over tea; dad would go through the news and conclude upon the state of the world firmly buttressed and rationalized through his astrological wisdom. Mom would offer her fundas, and we the kids had our own stands on things beyond us. Picking on each other was a norm. We would stretch the time as long as we could, and then scramble and rush through towards dashing off to school. You see, we adopted the JIT (just in time) approach even before we studied about the
method in college 😉

A pigeon flutters off taking a cue from its partner, and I come back to the present. My 6 year old is having her milk, and I, tea – in the balcony. We have a small balcony on the 6th floor of a building, no garden. There is a swing, yes, accomodated in the living room. My younger one, the mischievous 1.5 year old is fast asleep and wifey has an excuse since she’s the one who puts the lil’ one to sleep.

And as I take another sip, I look at my 6 year ol’. She seems to be enjoying the morning time in the balcony with me and her warm cup of milk. Little does she know that she’s been woken up @ 10 minutes earlier than usual for school… is that selfish ? 😉

Would be great if she starts having tea when older, I think. But right then my wife’s stern countenance flashes before me, and all my hopes are completely and comprehensively quashed. Well whatever keeps the mornings going…

As I hit the road to school, I think of the tea mornings, the ten-fifteen minutes of each morning that must have aggregated over thousands of hours of fun & quality time that we’ve had. We are all at different places now. I can only hope that the tea tradition remains intact…morning banters over cups of tea in the balcony…

My parents still continue the tradition … however there are no more giggles… the gaggle has left.

While coming back, the media player serves me a song…

Kyun desh videsh phire maara
Kyun haal behaal thakha haara

oh naadaan parindey, ghar aajaa

Row the boat

To a golden land
I could have moored
Climbed up the ladders
And then even more

But did I?
No.
Sounds inane
May be I was blind or dense
Or plain insane

Oft I regret
And oft I fret
At times I wonder
If some place else’s where
‘I’ really wanted to tread

Far away
From what all say is ‘all’
To somewhere abstract
Some place yet unknown

And guess, I’ll just keep on rowin’ the boat
The journey will always be on
I’ll stop while I can
And enjoy the scenes as they come

b l a n k

I feel so  b l a n k
And not okay
I feel as if I am being led
To I can’t quite figure where

Something’s pulling me
With all its might
I feel so helpless
Is this a fight?

Upheavels and i were never meant to be together
Yet here we are, hand in hand
Brothers in arms
Like best pals ever, playing in the sand (never mind … rhyme’s sake!)

Tide where you’re taking me
I feel so lost
Tide where you’re taking me
Now I need to be composed …

…And positive (cos’ that’s attitude, they say)
Life is a process
Kabhi idhar, kabhi udhar, and hey
What the ***k
(I meant heck, by the way)

Sometimes on a different path
You do get lost
And you do feel vacuous
And b l a n k

But, as they say, just hold on
There’s a story in the dark
There’s a way
Even in the unknown

So, worry me not for long
Cos I will soon be along

I will fill in the  b l a n k
And even sing a song!

Past and the Future tense

Hand in hand….

Hand in hand
We walk some

x {…..
And as we go about
We part ways
We miss some

The memories
But a flotsam

On the path
We again gather some
We hold on

Hand in hand
We walk some

…… } return to x

A poem by Bhuchung Sonam

A poem I came across…

I have truth and no force
You have force and no truth
You being you
And I being I
Compromise is out of the question
So let the battle begin.

You may club my skull
I will fight
You may crush my bones
I will fight
You may bury me alive
I will fight
With truth running through me
I will fight
With every ounce of my strength
I will fight
With my last dying breath
I will fight.

I will fight till the
Castle that you built with your lies
Comes tumbling down.



Till the devil you worshipped with your lies
Kneels down before my angel of truth. 

a poem by Bhuchung Sonam, an alumnus of M.S. University, Baroda. found it on a TOI page