Monday, September 9, 2013

An Ode to Kabira





I write this much inspired. I write this, as an expression of what evades me. The song has dug its roots in me- as a sign of my times.

The opening lines speaks a boy's heart -

"Main udna chahta hoon Naina,
Daudna chahta hoon...
Girna bhi chahta hoon..
Bas rokna nahi chahta ..."

The tone is moving as it speaks volumes through the simple words. It reflects the suppressed wish to taste freedom and yet the implicit trust to come back home.

It symbolizes the prologue of a man - lost in  his desire to be a boy again and turn his back on what love may hold.

Time of essence, is of inconsequence. The timeless hails supreme of what the heart speaks and the mind conjures.

The shadow of the ticking clock - stands null and void to dreams or wants.

It calls for a greater understanding of one's own restlessness and of another's patience.

Suffering is noble for its the stepping stone to things greater- or so the fable goes. Suffering is optional. A test of will and character. Few win the fight - and the few who do, know none of the borders that reality pervades one's own soul with.

As the song starts and the mellifluous Rekha Bharadwaj's vox sings out - the sigh heard , is almost palpable. You feel the deep sorrow of the female protagonist - as she tosses and trusses about in her inner turmoil - of the intrinsics of holding on or letting go.

Dreams are fragile. Once broken - they never synthesize to a new coherent cohesion. Once dead - they are ashen - sublime of their silken essence.

Once smoke - they're brittle and hurt steps as they try to divert.

The maturity of the girl, longs to lapse back into her puerility and be rebellious to fate being pre-decided and snatched away.

She sees the man she loves walk away.

True love always comes back - all fairy tales end with this happy ending.

The used always comes back in its distorted form.

But reality is crude as her own hopes bite the dust. She must bite the bullet and let go - set free her own self.

The song calls for a higher understanding of a woman over a man's mind. It calls for an esteem-hit yet a courage much untraced.

To let go and remain buried in hopes - with wings clipped is not what every girl aspires to do.

To cut the umbilical chord that unites the twin beats - is not what the heart would ever wish for.

The song is not about love or loss. Yet its lovelorn tune tears the very fiber of being - and stitches into the very core as its encore.

The song is not a plea- just a state of silent wonderment at the other's unique brand of insanity.

And the tears fall. But in the fall, lies a queer liberation as the heart gets steadily incinerated.

She seeks a lifetime - not a light installation of it. She is prepared to lose for that. For she cannot settle for the second best or play the second fiddle to one's dream or responsibility side-tracked as commitment.

The song calls for a salute !!






Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The Why Not Me Generation




Generation is always an ambivalent term. Nowadays, the space is so less between and pace of life so fast - that generation seems a farce word indeed. Like if we look at just 2 years younger to us- that pedigree is entirely different from us.

Wants, need, passion and even the nature of compassion seems changed. To Be or not to Be is fast superseded by To See or not To See. The eye only sees what the eye believes.

The share of trust vested is thus wasted mostly as one thing called facades bind souls together. We put on masks and our best smiles to fake while we face the innocent. In fact, in  this dog eat dog world, it's quite an irony to wish someone -"May God Bless You."

a) There's NO God above
b) We make it on our own
c) Dogs rule the world

So, it mostly must be rephrased by - May Dog Bless You.

Wishes like these hold more truth too - like we may infer it to be - "May DOGS like US bless you," or that "You're a DAWG too.. besties in your survival kit."

In this ratrace, you must be the smart dog to survive- not the loyal over-committed pig that you've morphed into - but the real dog who chases a cheetah !!

Instant gratification seems to be the instant mantra for instant happiness. Inner happiness be damned - the face glow is bought too.

Happiness is pen and paper ilked. You say it and the contract is signed.

Aspirations run high all these dogs know is how to use up people- aka resources- and survive. No place for ethics, law or the sun. No place for truth as the holy grail in the walk of fame.

Facebook is a good example - the race for marriage, honey combed honey-moons and the honey trap that's the wedded lives ! Everyday, someone is tying the knot and dying as the noose tightens.

Pockets are full of blingblings - phones, car keys, silver - what not to show off status, money , class, power but not affinity and empathy.

There's no virtue in value- just the spice of vice. Doesn't matter if you're married and you want to use girls for self-gratification. She's meant to be used after all!

This generation - rather the breed of people now- I tag as 'Why Not Me' hence. Everyone wants a share of the pie but none wants to buy it. Ownership is a loose and a vague term. More than fatigue, we fight boredom.

Shifting or locomotion from one place to the other - is the key skill one has to earn as he / she learns it the hard way. The world must be seen through cynical dark shades.

Eyes must be dry always. Moist is a sign of weakness