PS: I have to give a special shout to my friend Tariq - without whose blog - I would not have realized what I was about to become. I am so thankful to you...and Mark Twain.
I am a dog person. I refuse to be a cat.
I could talk to a tree.
Yup. Bet I could.
I could see it in the eye - and have a root to root conversation.
And I could nail it.
Trees dont talk back.
And I've walked on both sides of that line.
Today - I found the courage to have the conversations I had been afraid of for such a long time.
In one of them - I had to admit that I had been a big fat jerk who had shown neither emotional nor intellectual acumen. Had totally reacted to a situation inorder to get the outcome I wanted. And admit that I could have found it in me to find a better way to deal with it and found a dignified way to get what I wanted but had not done that. And I had to lay my pride on the sidewalk and say that I had not treated someone with the respect they deserve. And that I had issues and was finding a way to deal with them but that still did not make it okay.
The second conversation was far more difficult.
It involved the exact reverse situation. I called up someone who I had not spoken to for a very long time and let them off the hook. And told them that I had found a way to move forward and that they deserved to know that I was okay now ..for what it was worth. I was okay. And to make a demand that they treated me gently in the future.
Words.
When you find the right words to say ..at the right time.
Words. Are everything.
These words ..that filled no more than 8 minutes on my watch had haunted me and this blog for the better part of this year.
Until I finally looked at my watch and realized that I was running out of time.
It had taken me half of this year to figure it out.
And 8 minutes to make two phonecalls to say them.
And half an hour more to cry with the sheer joy of knowing that I did something today - for me.
Not for my career. Not for my friends. Not for anything - but for me.
For my mental wellbeing.
That finally I stood up. For what I believe in.
And I am posting this to remember.
That I have made mistakes.
But I can also self correct.
That I do things like this ..because even on my darkest deepest days - I still believe.
And I can still trust.
With my heart.
And that even though it takes time and even though its not always easy and hard to recognize.
I am making progress in this journey of my life.
One step at a time.
About Me
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Written
Its a gift to be a writer.
No two ways about it.
I would not have it any other way. Its a part of me. Rather - most of me.
But that doesnt make it any less harder.
To know what you feel is one thing. To be able to precisely word it and put it down in ink is another. And to have someone else read a piece of your heart...is a place where we dont want to go ..on this blog atleast.
Sometimes, it leaves me extremely restless and tired.
This is one of those days.
My mind takes me to places that I've never been to before. And its hard because not everyone wants to go on the ride with me.
When a toasty brown leaf flutters into my room - I see a memory making its presence felt
When I see a solitary pen lying on a table at the bank - I see a letter that is just waiting to be written
Seeing the moon during the day on the few rare occasions make me instantly think about people in other parts of the world looking at it in a star studded night sky
When I open a dusty old book at a street store- it makes me wonder who read it before me and where they might be now
When I pour wine into a glass - It makes me think of the year of its vintage and what things may have become
I'm sensitive to sound, music, textures, weather ..sometimes their friend and sometimes their prisoner.
And I am writing even when I am just staring into space.
Its the journey of a lifetime in the few moments that my mind spins at the speed of light.
Somedays .. like this one .. I'm just jetlagged.
I document the good times as well as the bad times. And it helps me maintain a precarious equilibrium that sometimes even protects me.
I experience everything thrice - when I fel it, when I write it and when I read it back.
Its a great friend to have - when alone or in company, in sunshine or on a rainy day locked indoors.
Its excruciating to have the words to say everything I want to say to someone and not be able to say it ..
Its even harder when I am able to but they cannot in return
And I know that its not that they dont feel - just cant say it all.
But the hardest of all is - when sometimes words simply fail me.
This is one of those times.
I continue in earnest prayer to search for them.
Today is 26 May 2009
I am 30 years old ..and my city is Mumbai
Thank God I have enough
No two ways about it.
I would not have it any other way. Its a part of me. Rather - most of me.
But that doesnt make it any less harder.
To know what you feel is one thing. To be able to precisely word it and put it down in ink is another. And to have someone else read a piece of your heart...is a place where we dont want to go ..on this blog atleast.
Sometimes, it leaves me extremely restless and tired.
This is one of those days.
My mind takes me to places that I've never been to before. And its hard because not everyone wants to go on the ride with me.
When a toasty brown leaf flutters into my room - I see a memory making its presence felt
When I see a solitary pen lying on a table at the bank - I see a letter that is just waiting to be written
Seeing the moon during the day on the few rare occasions make me instantly think about people in other parts of the world looking at it in a star studded night sky
When I open a dusty old book at a street store- it makes me wonder who read it before me and where they might be now
When I pour wine into a glass - It makes me think of the year of its vintage and what things may have become
I'm sensitive to sound, music, textures, weather ..sometimes their friend and sometimes their prisoner.
And I am writing even when I am just staring into space.
Its the journey of a lifetime in the few moments that my mind spins at the speed of light.
Somedays .. like this one .. I'm just jetlagged.
I document the good times as well as the bad times. And it helps me maintain a precarious equilibrium that sometimes even protects me.
I experience everything thrice - when I fel it, when I write it and when I read it back.
Its a great friend to have - when alone or in company, in sunshine or on a rainy day locked indoors.
Its excruciating to have the words to say everything I want to say to someone and not be able to say it ..
Its even harder when I am able to but they cannot in return
And I know that its not that they dont feel - just cant say it all.
But the hardest of all is - when sometimes words simply fail me.
This is one of those times.
I continue in earnest prayer to search for them.
Today is 26 May 2009
I am 30 years old ..and my city is Mumbai
Thank God I have enough
Monday, May 25, 2009
The ghosts of coffee's past
I just came back to my desk with my afternoon cup.
Java is my favorite posion - inside and outside of a programming console.
This is usually the time I think of her.
FL.
She's given meaning to every cup of coffee I drink.
We've had so many cups together - that it should have stopped meaning something a long time ago.
But it hasnt.
Her, me and a cup of coffee.
And when you poured all three of us together - it made a good brew that reeked like the friendship of a lifetime.
Its funny - how I've learnt to associate coffee with her.
It was our favorite thing to do.
Sneak out 15 minutes during a crazy day at work - to have a mocha.
We hated the machine made stuff.
Black is bitter but not necessarily less better.
Little cream, heavy on the steam, sugar on the side.
Behind every successful man is a woman.
But behind every successful day or PV that we struggled to get the better of at work or any personal crisis that we helped each other tide ..was many many cups of coffee.
Thats how we became friends at first I guess, looking back.
Coffee brought us together.
But destiny kept us together.
Somehow - both of us ..landed up in Atlanta at this strange cross section in life.
Slowly we discovered that we had a lot more in common, that just our love for the bitter beans.
Books, Philosophies, Inspirations, aggravations, Dreams and failures.
We discovered the city and its many quiet haunts on vague coffee drinking trips.
On many a cold foggy evening, we sat looking at the leaves outside, the wind howling and the rain falling - with a hot cuppa in hand.
And like all good friendships, it was the conversation that energized us and that we got addicted to - the caffeine was just a mere excuse.
And now - its her face that I see in every cup of coffee that I pour.
I am haunted by the ghosts of coffee's past.
The Turkish say that sharing a cup of coffee - commits one to forty years of friendship.
Well - forty is simply not enough for me when it comes to her.
Thousands of miles away, I look at this solitary cup lying next to me, this humid afternoon in May when the clouds threaten to burst at their seams any moment now.
And I know in my heart - that we will share a cup or maybe two..again in this life of ours.
And when it happens - It will mean the world to me.
Java is my favorite posion - inside and outside of a programming console.
This is usually the time I think of her.
FL.
She's given meaning to every cup of coffee I drink.
We've had so many cups together - that it should have stopped meaning something a long time ago.
But it hasnt.
Her, me and a cup of coffee.
And when you poured all three of us together - it made a good brew that reeked like the friendship of a lifetime.
Its funny - how I've learnt to associate coffee with her.
It was our favorite thing to do.
Sneak out 15 minutes during a crazy day at work - to have a mocha.
We hated the machine made stuff.
Black is bitter but not necessarily less better.
Little cream, heavy on the steam, sugar on the side.
Behind every successful man is a woman.
But behind every successful day or PV that we struggled to get the better of at work or any personal crisis that we helped each other tide ..was many many cups of coffee.
Thats how we became friends at first I guess, looking back.
Coffee brought us together.
But destiny kept us together.
Somehow - both of us ..landed up in Atlanta at this strange cross section in life.
Slowly we discovered that we had a lot more in common, that just our love for the bitter beans.
Books, Philosophies, Inspirations, aggravations, Dreams and failures.
We discovered the city and its many quiet haunts on vague coffee drinking trips.
On many a cold foggy evening, we sat looking at the leaves outside, the wind howling and the rain falling - with a hot cuppa in hand.
And like all good friendships, it was the conversation that energized us and that we got addicted to - the caffeine was just a mere excuse.
And now - its her face that I see in every cup of coffee that I pour.
I am haunted by the ghosts of coffee's past.
The Turkish say that sharing a cup of coffee - commits one to forty years of friendship.
Well - forty is simply not enough for me when it comes to her.
Thousands of miles away, I look at this solitary cup lying next to me, this humid afternoon in May when the clouds threaten to burst at their seams any moment now.
And I know in my heart - that we will share a cup or maybe two..again in this life of ours.
And when it happens - It will mean the world to me.
Friday, May 22, 2009
My Mantra
Take a moment.
Take two.
Take a deep breath.
Take a few.
This is life.
This exact moment.
Not what happened yesterday.
Not what may or may not happen tomorrow.
Experience it.
Make peace with it.
And Let go.
Now.
Spend some time.
Soaking in whats around.
Continue taking those deep breaths.
Shake head from side to side slowly.
Let the clutter escape through your ears.
Fold your hands.
Palm against Palm.
Feel it.
Finger against Finger.
Feel your pulse. Feel your life.
At the tip of each finger.
Close your eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Smile.
Smile wider.
Bend your neck.
Say Thank you.
Make a promise
To Go to bed alone.
Dont sleep with your pride, ego or pain.
Dont wake up alone.
Greet the day with hope and enthusiasm.
When in doubt -
Repeat all the steps all over again.
Take two.
Take a deep breath.
Take a few.
This is life.
This exact moment.
Not what happened yesterday.
Not what may or may not happen tomorrow.
Experience it.
Make peace with it.
And Let go.
Now.
Spend some time.
Soaking in whats around.
Continue taking those deep breaths.
Shake head from side to side slowly.
Let the clutter escape through your ears.
Fold your hands.
Palm against Palm.
Feel it.
Finger against Finger.
Feel your pulse. Feel your life.
At the tip of each finger.
Close your eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Smile.
Smile wider.
Bend your neck.
Say Thank you.
Make a promise
To Go to bed alone.
Dont sleep with your pride, ego or pain.
Dont wake up alone.
Greet the day with hope and enthusiasm.
When in doubt -
Repeat all the steps all over again.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Gutted
What is a gut feeling and what does it mean in my world ?
Today, I was travelling to work, in the boiling pot that my bus is...when at this congested cross section, a lady on a scooty pulled next to my window and we made eye contact.
Instinctively, we smiled at each other.
Thats a gut reaction. No logic. No rational. Straight from the heart.
I am not as fortunate always.
These days, my instinct is like a tall glass of long island iced tea.
Spiked.
Drunk.
I just dont trust its twisted walk.
How do I get it to be sober?
And how do I make sure it stays that way ?
I wish there was a way to drown out the voices of the world - and hear my own feeble whispers.
As if thinking and not enough feeling wasnt a problem already.
I even learnt a structured approach to that thought process ...
This week I wrestled with another one of those heart versus the mind matters.
Analysis Paralysis.
The heart won. But not easily no. After a WWF worthy tussle between my heart and a few other minds.
I think that if my life was a video game - everytime I came out of a situation like this where I have shamelessly had such a hard time standing up for myself and my gut instinct - the lifespan I have would reduce. In video game terms - I'd grow tired and weary. Until I did something to rejuvenate myself or in this case my battered psyche.
In the history of my 30 year old life - most decisions that I have made - have been illogical.
Not that there wasnt enough logic to support them or oppose them. And usually I am expert at arguing both ways. But ..the important decisions...they werent based on logic alone.
The tipping point was always from the gut. It just felt good. Like nothing ever would.
Like an honest smile.
At an honest moment.
When not smiling would not even cross my mind.
It would just happen.
and somehow, my gut would tell me to smile back.
God, I hope it does.
Today, I was travelling to work, in the boiling pot that my bus is...when at this congested cross section, a lady on a scooty pulled next to my window and we made eye contact.
Instinctively, we smiled at each other.
Thats a gut reaction. No logic. No rational. Straight from the heart.
I am not as fortunate always.
These days, my instinct is like a tall glass of long island iced tea.
Spiked.
Drunk.
I just dont trust its twisted walk.
How do I get it to be sober?
And how do I make sure it stays that way ?
I wish there was a way to drown out the voices of the world - and hear my own feeble whispers.
As if thinking and not enough feeling wasnt a problem already.
I even learnt a structured approach to that thought process ...
This week I wrestled with another one of those heart versus the mind matters.
Analysis Paralysis.
The heart won. But not easily no. After a WWF worthy tussle between my heart and a few other minds.
I think that if my life was a video game - everytime I came out of a situation like this where I have shamelessly had such a hard time standing up for myself and my gut instinct - the lifespan I have would reduce. In video game terms - I'd grow tired and weary. Until I did something to rejuvenate myself or in this case my battered psyche.
In the history of my 30 year old life - most decisions that I have made - have been illogical.
Not that there wasnt enough logic to support them or oppose them. And usually I am expert at arguing both ways. But ..the important decisions...they werent based on logic alone.
The tipping point was always from the gut. It just felt good. Like nothing ever would.
Like an honest smile.
At an honest moment.
When not smiling would not even cross my mind.
It would just happen.
and somehow, my gut would tell me to smile back.
God, I hope it does.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Play on Clay
Its personal for me.
Somehow - its personal for me.
French Open. The last three finals.
Federer's 5-16 trailing record against Nadal in all the finals they've played.
The year by year defeats he's had on clay.
His tears in Melbourne in February.
Until yesterday, Roger had beaten Rafa only one in ten times on clay.
Yesterday was number two.
I am cheering for a number three later this month.
Allez Roger Allez !
Somehow - its personal for me.
French Open. The last three finals.
Federer's 5-16 trailing record against Nadal in all the finals they've played.
The year by year defeats he's had on clay.
His tears in Melbourne in February.
Until yesterday, Roger had beaten Rafa only one in ten times on clay.
Yesterday was number two.
I am cheering for a number three later this month.
Allez Roger Allez !
Friday, May 15, 2009
Operation Shilpa
On a warm fuzzy post diwali pound packed November night, I was at the movies.
It had been a long week at work and I was only too happy to reward myself.
Medium size popcorn (small is too little, large is too much .. you know the drill..), Coca Cola (Bubbles of joy..Jeeyo sar uthake ofcourse! ), nachos (come on..dont be shocked.. I'm going to share with 2 other ppl pls ) and a hot fudge brownie..(they just started this new thing at PVR .. have to be a good patron now....)
So as I sat between salty masala corn stubs and a bottle of water to detox ofcourse, the soda I sipped seemed to have just the adequate amount of fizz for the night.
Until Shilpa Shetty ..stepped out of an air brushed magazine and into the screen and my face ..wearing swimsuit after swimsuit on South Beach and waved her perfectly toned body in the face of all the calories that surrounded me.
Operation Shilpa began the next day.
I went to my trainer in the Gym and had a mano-e-mano conversation.
I said to him, lets set some real goals.
"I want to lose weight" is not a realistic goal. It does nothing for me.
I know that Kaizen is good .. but I've had that goal for such a long time that I've been on continuous..continuous improvement!
So I asked him - how long is it going to take for me to look like Shilpa Shetty in Dostana, Bipasha in Bachna ea Haseeno....lets make this real. I can handle pain.
He didnt show me one finger. He showed me three.
Three months ?!
He shook his head. and Laughed.
Dammit ! .. Three Years .. thats what it takes to go from "round is a shape" to "Top ki heroine" shape.
Jokes apart, he put me on this gruelling workout routine that has kept me awake at night and made me sleepy after lunch at work everyday since.
Operation Shilpa has actually enabled me to overcome some of my own battles.
I mean, on a personal note,.. I am actually in a real meaningful relationship for the first time in my life. We are partners in sweat and tears. So what if it's a treadmill. The amount of time I spend with it....Zeus would blush.
My shoulders are burdened with the responsibility of 8 pound dumbells ..and my week is divided into two halves - Upper and Lower.
I've learnt that when I do abs - I dont count from 1 to 20.
I say tables.
Four ones are Four. Four two's are Eight. Four Thirteen;s are Fifty Two.
The complex mathematical calculation makes me less giddy.
I've also mastered the art of Yoga.
When I get too tired, I just roll a mat - lie down and take a quick nap. And if anyone asks - it always impresses them that I strongly recommend the use of meditation and self hypnosis during the workout to calm muscles.
Afterall - in this gym. I am a veteran. I am almost a part of the gym. Been around long enough to have everyone look at me like the prisoners looked at Morgan Freeman in Shawshank.
I'm gymstitutionalized.
Like yesterday, my trainer was shocked when I did a ten minute run in five minutes !
I told him .. you see .. my grandma once said ..time really flies when you are having fun.
I am. I am! ...
Working out also makes you look younger. Well - actually my sweaty hands accidently smudged part of my age on my id card. But the point, I am making is ..that no one's questioned it so far!
So it must be working..
We've done some changes along the way .. like one day my trainer told me that I needed to watch what I ate. Otherwise, it wasnt going to work.
Now few weeks later- I have 4 entire minutes dedicated at the start of every meal to it.
It hurts like crazy and is soo hard to do - but in those 4 minutes...I am the most focused person in the world. I take time out to gaze at every single food item on my plate before I start eating. And you know what - it was such a milestone when I could repeat the 4 minute routine for
second helpings too.
I think its all about being focused and making up your own rules as you go.
Like substituting nachos for chips - corn is afterall much healthier than potatoes....
Its the small things that make a difference like they say.
Operation Shilpa has really changed my life.
Hopefully by the end of this - my dress size will be smaller than my shoe size and I'll be able to watch movies without feeling guilty again.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Iceberg
The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that I really dont like Icebergs.
Not that there are any, this side of the world.
Figuratively, its a completely different statistic.
Everywhere I go, there is a landmine of Icebergs.
Inside my mind, I see myself ..blue sky, choppy waters, standing calmly.
I am an iceberg in a sea of freaking icebergs.
Incase I'm not making the point ...I really dont like Icebergs.
They say that scientifically speaking, for every iceberg, 7/8th's of it ..is hidden under water.
You can only see a fragment of what lurks beneath. Leave alone what lurks inside.
So what that means is, that anything .. anything that I try to make sense out of ..is only based on 1/8th of all the information that I would actually need to make a decision.
Iceberg ahead.
How Big ? ..Not sure
How small ? Cant tell
What shape ? Who knows
So whatever I do know, or do see .. is in more than one ways ..incomplete.
Always two side, somethings more than two, someone elses shoes or viewpoint et all.
In that case the only way to know the icebergs around me - is to dive.
To hold my breath, suck the air in and take a leap of faith and deep dive.
And to have the courage to open my eyes beneath the water - and see.
And resurface, breathless, tired and exhausted ..but wiser ..to that particular iceberg atleast.
And then - in the mean time, the in between time , recuperate and get stronger.
For the next one.
So I won't cry a river.
Life's an ocean.
Filled with icebergs.
Melting fast.
And at the end of days like today, when much is questionable and unarguably debatable, I can only hope to make my dives count.
Not that there are any, this side of the world.
Figuratively, its a completely different statistic.
Everywhere I go, there is a landmine of Icebergs.
Inside my mind, I see myself ..blue sky, choppy waters, standing calmly.
I am an iceberg in a sea of freaking icebergs.
Incase I'm not making the point ...I really dont like Icebergs.
They say that scientifically speaking, for every iceberg, 7/8th's of it ..is hidden under water.
You can only see a fragment of what lurks beneath. Leave alone what lurks inside.
So what that means is, that anything .. anything that I try to make sense out of ..is only based on 1/8th of all the information that I would actually need to make a decision.
Iceberg ahead.
How Big ? ..Not sure
How small ? Cant tell
What shape ? Who knows
So whatever I do know, or do see .. is in more than one ways ..incomplete.
Always two side, somethings more than two, someone elses shoes or viewpoint et all.
In that case the only way to know the icebergs around me - is to dive.
To hold my breath, suck the air in and take a leap of faith and deep dive.
And to have the courage to open my eyes beneath the water - and see.
And resurface, breathless, tired and exhausted ..but wiser ..to that particular iceberg atleast.
And then - in the mean time, the in between time , recuperate and get stronger.
For the next one.
So I won't cry a river.
Life's an ocean.
Filled with icebergs.
Melting fast.
And at the end of days like today, when much is questionable and unarguably debatable, I can only hope to make my dives count.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
In Search of a Rhyme
What I've been writing for the past week - much metta, Kau
In search of a rhyme
---------------------
I love poetry. More than life itself. But ask me about my favorite poem and I’ll say “I haven’t written it yet” :)
Smart Alec jokes notwithstanding – here are the poems that have moved me and influenced me the most in the past 30 odd years of my life. This is my tribute to them and the meaning they’ve infused into my otherwise ordinary life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-I bow to thee my country; Sir Cecil Spring Rice
“I bow to thee my country, all earthly things above
Entire, whole and perfect, the service of my love
The love that asks no questions the love that stands the test
That lays upon the altar, the dearest and the best
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice”
This poem I love just for its pristine untouched thoughts.
When I hear this poem, I have this inner urge to stand up and stand straight.
Only your own country can command such love and respect, all other loves are often defined by their imperfections.
But your love for your own country has to be that pure. No grey area. You cannot “kinda sorta” support your motherland. Dust, Sweat, Blood and Tears. You’ve gotta do it 100% or not at all.
I especially love the often omitted middle stanza that ends in “a son amongst your sons”. I remember being in New York ..on the way to see the Statue of Liberty and it was so much like Bombay – I was so nostalgic, standing on a grey cloudy day on that ferry and I thought about “ I heard my country calling, away across the sea – across the waste of waters, she calls and calls to me” . It was in that moment that I knew what it meant. What it means to be as fortunate and privileged as I am to be an Indian. That I can say where I am from with square shoulders and a straight head.
For all those “Phir bhi Dil hai Hindustani” moments, this one is a masterpiece.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- Daffodils; William Wordsworth
“For often on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the Daffodils”
Growing up in a congested north Bombay suburb – I simply could not imagine what Wordsworth meant when he said “Ten Thousand I saw at a glance, tossing their heads in spirited dance”. This poem was a revelation. Like eating wasabi for the first time – a burst of flavor, an aggression of ideas, a diffusion of sensation.
How can flowers toss their heads? .. What is an inward eye ? ..How can a cloud be lonely wandering over hills? .. Can there be so many flowers at one time that it can look like the milky way?
My favorite line in this poem is when he says “I gazed and gazed but little thought – what wealth to me the show had brought”. I read those lines but they never made sense to me till years later. Like Life. The moment often passes and I am in it, a witness but never realize how many times I am going to recreate that very moment in my mind for a life time to follow. And then, long after – I find myself lying on my couch – like the poem- drawing inspiration from that inner well of good experiences and life shaping moments.
I’ve seen fields of flowers since, never met a Daffodil.
It will happen before my time is over – of that I am sure.
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The road not taken – Robert Frost
Robert Frost is my most admired poet for one simple reason – The power of a single thought. While the imagery that is created in my mind from his poems may not be as vivid – my knees shake at the singular thought in some of his works.
Like what he writes in “The Lockless Door” .. I remember feeling shaky and scared when I lived alone in Atlanta – when there would be a knock on the door late at night..and it is then that I knew what he meant when he said “:So at a knock I emptied my age – to hide in the world and alter with age” … or the “November Guest” ..where he talks about how he’s learned to love the bare days of November just before the snow. I found that I also had.
But the one poem of his that stands out is “The road not taken”
How many times in my life has this scene repeated itself?
Me – Two roads. One difficult and one well trodden and rife with populace.
Now unlike, this poem, I’ve learnt that it’s a fine line.
Deciding which road to take. The one less traveled by or the one that’s grassy and clear.
And every time I have take a decision and ended up banging my head – this poem come back to my mind.
The debate continues …
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Thousandth Man – Rudyard Kipling
“One man in a thousand –Solomon says
Will stick more close than a brother
And its worth seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other”
I was introduced to this poem by Nandu – dear friend, fellow lit buff and philosopher. An avid reader and orator himself, I can never forget Nandu reciting verses of this poem to me on a cold Friday evening in the Fall. I went home and read it immediately.
I was at a strange place in my life. I’d gone through some testing personal and professional circumstances that had sometimes gotten the better of me before I eventually got the better of them.
I had behaved in strange and inexplicable ways. Made several mistakes and gone on a year long excercise in showing just how exactly human and rampant to imperfections I was.
And I’d seen collateral damage of every kind.
Yet, there were some who had simply stood by me. And held my hand at the end of the worst days filled with my worst choices. And I knew instantly what this poem meant.
It meant that in matters of the heart, things were past logic.
And when the storm was over and the thunder died down – the only ones that mattered were ones who’d watched and coached you through it – never once breaking eye contact. It was only adversity that tested relationships. Like the worst of winds, it would strip you bare.. And leave you with only that which was an inseparable part of you. The Thousandth Man. I am blessed to know what this feels like.
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IF – Rudyard Kipling
“If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,'
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! “
The first time I read this poem, I was 18 and sleepy. I was at the National Defence Academy in Pune. The night before my brother’s graduation parade. He is in the Army and I was in his room – chatting with him before his big day. There was a small book – lying on the shelf. He said – every cadet had a book like that in their rooms with rules and prayers etc. The last page of that book had me mesmerized. Even for an 18 year old at the brink of the world – this poem was a turning point. I knew – even then that I had experienced something I would hold on forever. This one poem has seen me through so many so many rough moments in my life…when the minutes were indeed “unforgiving” or “watch the things you gave your life to broken” and when you cant “breathe a word about your loss”
I always have a printout of this poem at work and I look at it when I am thinking and it makes me want to be .. a better me.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looking back, I realize that these poems have humbled me and helped me understand and have a richer life experience.
and the handful 30 odd poems or so that I do hold close to my heart, I can read over and over again and still learn something new from them each time.
I hope the learning never ends.
I hope I continue to enjoy and remember them and live a charmed life through them.
and above all, I hope they keep coming back to me and in the words of Wordsworth I can also say that "the music in my heart I bore - long after it was heard no more".
Amen.
In search of a rhyme
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I love poetry. More than life itself. But ask me about my favorite poem and I’ll say “I haven’t written it yet” :)
Smart Alec jokes notwithstanding – here are the poems that have moved me and influenced me the most in the past 30 odd years of my life. This is my tribute to them and the meaning they’ve infused into my otherwise ordinary life.
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-I bow to thee my country; Sir Cecil Spring Rice
“I bow to thee my country, all earthly things above
Entire, whole and perfect, the service of my love
The love that asks no questions the love that stands the test
That lays upon the altar, the dearest and the best
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice”
This poem I love just for its pristine untouched thoughts.
When I hear this poem, I have this inner urge to stand up and stand straight.
Only your own country can command such love and respect, all other loves are often defined by their imperfections.
But your love for your own country has to be that pure. No grey area. You cannot “kinda sorta” support your motherland. Dust, Sweat, Blood and Tears. You’ve gotta do it 100% or not at all.
I especially love the often omitted middle stanza that ends in “a son amongst your sons”. I remember being in New York ..on the way to see the Statue of Liberty and it was so much like Bombay – I was so nostalgic, standing on a grey cloudy day on that ferry and I thought about “ I heard my country calling, away across the sea – across the waste of waters, she calls and calls to me” . It was in that moment that I knew what it meant. What it means to be as fortunate and privileged as I am to be an Indian. That I can say where I am from with square shoulders and a straight head.
For all those “Phir bhi Dil hai Hindustani” moments, this one is a masterpiece.
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- Daffodils; William Wordsworth
“For often on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the Daffodils”
Growing up in a congested north Bombay suburb – I simply could not imagine what Wordsworth meant when he said “Ten Thousand I saw at a glance, tossing their heads in spirited dance”. This poem was a revelation. Like eating wasabi for the first time – a burst of flavor, an aggression of ideas, a diffusion of sensation.
How can flowers toss their heads? .. What is an inward eye ? ..How can a cloud be lonely wandering over hills? .. Can there be so many flowers at one time that it can look like the milky way?
My favorite line in this poem is when he says “I gazed and gazed but little thought – what wealth to me the show had brought”. I read those lines but they never made sense to me till years later. Like Life. The moment often passes and I am in it, a witness but never realize how many times I am going to recreate that very moment in my mind for a life time to follow. And then, long after – I find myself lying on my couch – like the poem- drawing inspiration from that inner well of good experiences and life shaping moments.
I’ve seen fields of flowers since, never met a Daffodil.
It will happen before my time is over – of that I am sure.
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The road not taken – Robert Frost
Robert Frost is my most admired poet for one simple reason – The power of a single thought. While the imagery that is created in my mind from his poems may not be as vivid – my knees shake at the singular thought in some of his works.
Like what he writes in “The Lockless Door” .. I remember feeling shaky and scared when I lived alone in Atlanta – when there would be a knock on the door late at night..and it is then that I knew what he meant when he said “:So at a knock I emptied my age – to hide in the world and alter with age” … or the “November Guest” ..where he talks about how he’s learned to love the bare days of November just before the snow. I found that I also had.
But the one poem of his that stands out is “The road not taken”
How many times in my life has this scene repeated itself?
Me – Two roads. One difficult and one well trodden and rife with populace.
Now unlike, this poem, I’ve learnt that it’s a fine line.
Deciding which road to take. The one less traveled by or the one that’s grassy and clear.
And every time I have take a decision and ended up banging my head – this poem come back to my mind.
The debate continues …
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Thousandth Man – Rudyard Kipling
“One man in a thousand –Solomon says
Will stick more close than a brother
And its worth seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other”
I was introduced to this poem by Nandu – dear friend, fellow lit buff and philosopher. An avid reader and orator himself, I can never forget Nandu reciting verses of this poem to me on a cold Friday evening in the Fall. I went home and read it immediately.
I was at a strange place in my life. I’d gone through some testing personal and professional circumstances that had sometimes gotten the better of me before I eventually got the better of them.
I had behaved in strange and inexplicable ways. Made several mistakes and gone on a year long excercise in showing just how exactly human and rampant to imperfections I was.
And I’d seen collateral damage of every kind.
Yet, there were some who had simply stood by me. And held my hand at the end of the worst days filled with my worst choices. And I knew instantly what this poem meant.
It meant that in matters of the heart, things were past logic.
And when the storm was over and the thunder died down – the only ones that mattered were ones who’d watched and coached you through it – never once breaking eye contact. It was only adversity that tested relationships. Like the worst of winds, it would strip you bare.. And leave you with only that which was an inseparable part of you. The Thousandth Man. I am blessed to know what this feels like.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IF – Rudyard Kipling
“If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,'
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! “
The first time I read this poem, I was 18 and sleepy. I was at the National Defence Academy in Pune. The night before my brother’s graduation parade. He is in the Army and I was in his room – chatting with him before his big day. There was a small book – lying on the shelf. He said – every cadet had a book like that in their rooms with rules and prayers etc. The last page of that book had me mesmerized. Even for an 18 year old at the brink of the world – this poem was a turning point. I knew – even then that I had experienced something I would hold on forever. This one poem has seen me through so many so many rough moments in my life…when the minutes were indeed “unforgiving” or “watch the things you gave your life to broken” and when you cant “breathe a word about your loss”
I always have a printout of this poem at work and I look at it when I am thinking and it makes me want to be .. a better me.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looking back, I realize that these poems have humbled me and helped me understand and have a richer life experience.
and the handful 30 odd poems or so that I do hold close to my heart, I can read over and over again and still learn something new from them each time.
I hope the learning never ends.
I hope I continue to enjoy and remember them and live a charmed life through them.
and above all, I hope they keep coming back to me and in the words of Wordsworth I can also say that "the music in my heart I bore - long after it was heard no more".
Amen.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Serendipity
The first time I saw this movie, I was in Gainesville.
It was with a very dear friend of mine, Rodrigo. And he and I had completely different opinions about it. It was years ago.
For the uninitiated, This movie deals with the premise that the universe sends us signs constantly. And when we meet some people, friends, loves, strangers .. no meeting is by chance. Sometimes the very purpose of the entire universe existing is to bring us together with someone else.
I was 22 and in love with the control shift I had on my life. I vehemently disagreed with the plot in this movie. Saying that when you find someone that feels right .. at this moment .. you do everything you can to make it work. Thats how things stay together.
The lead actress in this movie starts off believing in the charm of fate and destiny ..and somewhere 20 mins and a few years in movie time ends up cynical.
For me, its been the reverse.
Last night I saw the movie again.
And agreed 100% with it.
Somethings are preordained.
Theres not much we can do to fight it,
Some battles are ours to fight. No matter how hard we try to watch from the sidelines. No matter how hard we try to avoid the blows. We have to fight them. Life leaves us no other choice.
Others - we never run into. They are simply not ours to fight.
Not much we can do about that either.
Because nothing ..absolutely nothing ..in our life happens by chance.
This was the weekend from hell for me.
The kind of weekend where if I drew a circle about everything I've wanted to do in my life ..I'd find myself standing outside the circle. Rather than inside it.
Yet the universes was sending me signs.
As I stayed at home, not wanting to cast my greys over an otherwise sunny city, I saw two movies. How to lose a guy in 10 days and Serendipity. And I had this weird feeling strike me ..and then realised that I had infact seen both the movies the first time round with the same friend - Rodrigo.
It wasnt simply by chance. It was Serendipity.
And so I called him.
And it turned the weekend for me.
It was with a very dear friend of mine, Rodrigo. And he and I had completely different opinions about it. It was years ago.
For the uninitiated, This movie deals with the premise that the universe sends us signs constantly. And when we meet some people, friends, loves, strangers .. no meeting is by chance. Sometimes the very purpose of the entire universe existing is to bring us together with someone else.
I was 22 and in love with the control shift I had on my life. I vehemently disagreed with the plot in this movie. Saying that when you find someone that feels right .. at this moment .. you do everything you can to make it work. Thats how things stay together.
The lead actress in this movie starts off believing in the charm of fate and destiny ..and somewhere 20 mins and a few years in movie time ends up cynical.
For me, its been the reverse.
Last night I saw the movie again.
And agreed 100% with it.
Somethings are preordained.
Theres not much we can do to fight it,
Some battles are ours to fight. No matter how hard we try to watch from the sidelines. No matter how hard we try to avoid the blows. We have to fight them. Life leaves us no other choice.
Others - we never run into. They are simply not ours to fight.
Not much we can do about that either.
Because nothing ..absolutely nothing ..in our life happens by chance.
This was the weekend from hell for me.
The kind of weekend where if I drew a circle about everything I've wanted to do in my life ..I'd find myself standing outside the circle. Rather than inside it.
Yet the universes was sending me signs.
As I stayed at home, not wanting to cast my greys over an otherwise sunny city, I saw two movies. How to lose a guy in 10 days and Serendipity. And I had this weird feeling strike me ..and then realised that I had infact seen both the movies the first time round with the same friend - Rodrigo.
It wasnt simply by chance. It was Serendipity.
And so I called him.
And it turned the weekend for me.
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