“Do you know what you are to me, honey?” You began, luring me with your words

“The fragrance to the rose.
The myriad-colored glory of the sunrise
to the awakening sky.
The serene beauty of the moon
to the star-decked sky
or the sparkle of the waves
to the somber sea….”

A charismatic smile lingered on your cherubic face,
stirring up the conflicting emotions in me.

I surrendered.

You bereaved me of my self,
leaving faint shades of memories encapsulating my consciousness.

I became we.

Your lustrous eyes
made the gravitational pull of earth look like a joke.

I loved you.

Imperceptible waves of thoughts, swaying tumultuously,
hit the shores of my mind, blinding me.

I desert thee.

Oh ye ghost of rationality, let me rest in peace!

]]> http://thevoiceswith.in/2009/05/midnight-whispers/feed/ 5 http://thevoiceswith.in/2009/04/master-of-the-game/ http://thevoiceswith.in/2009/04/master-of-the-game/#comments Fri, 10 Apr 2009 07:46:36 +0000 rampantheart http://thevoiceswith.in/?p=314 “The moment you start restraining your character to what you think you are, you start leading an illusory life”, my father went on, stopping at regular intervals to look at my not-so-eager-to-hear-philosophy-first-thing-in-the-morning face. He either smiled or simply nodded, in deference to my childlike actions. But he would go on, nevertheless, reiterating what he said. I hated all this, especially the way he would start everything again, from the start, if I hadn’t paid attention. He would bounce back like a ball, if I, his prospective student did nothing to acknowledge what he said. My father to me, was my greatest ally and adversary. I actually envied his calm nature. The fact that I could never become he hurt me at times.

From time to time, his lectures on religion and philosophy would bore me to death. He must have known my propensity to other issues in life. He accepted me the way I was. We had tea breaks in between where we would talk about other things like Metaphysics and Cosmology. Not much of an improvement there, I know, but I started loving these lectures with a passionate animosity. When you don’t have a choice in things that are out of your control, all you do is wait for a miracle. And that was what I was expecting. A miracle. A faint hope that my father would leave me alone and start talking about cinema and entertainment, just like other kids’ dads did. But I was wrong. I should have known better. That day never came.

If I had known at that time about the word “hedonist” I would have proclaimed myself to be one. But I was only 18 then. An overgrown kid with no interest in anything yet everything. I was just a normal, yet-another school going kid with a liking for other sane pleasures. I would sometimes run away from him on the pretext of studying. What I did to make myself occupied is nobody’s business.

Every weekend to me, would mean hellish counsel. Though I liked my father more than anything else in the entire cosmos, his otherwise insistence that I become his successor was something hard to endure. No sane being would speak about Prakriti and Brahmam first thing in the morning. But we did. His was at all times, a monologue. I always  had an irresistible urge to ask him to talk about anything at all but would never do that. After all he was my sole relative. My mother had deserted us long back . So, I pitied my dad who took philosophising as a full time profession. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. What I had for him was a melange of inexpressible feelings. I almost revered my father. Things would have been great if we were on speaking terms. Not philosophising terms.

“The moment you start restraining your character to what you think you are, you start leading an illusory life. You fall into the trap of the conspirator, Maya or Illusion”, my father spoke the words again slowly, as if I were in a trance. The day’s question was “Is Life an illusion?” When I didn’t bother to answer the question, he started speaking, adjusting his half moon spectacles. I had to listen to many enlightening points that sadly didn’t have much of an effect on me. I sat there still, wondering why the balcony was always the meeting place. Perpetual stream of thoughts about the new film that was to be aired the day after and thoughts on the Facebook Mobwars application engulfed me. I was thinking how many people would join Mobwars under me when he said “I just happened to take a look at your Orkut profile.” His usual lopsided grin lingered.
I was shocked at first but composed myself. Why would my father of all the persons on earth have an orkut account? Words failed me and I didn’t volunteer any information. I kept staring at the bougainvillea that coveted my attention.

“You have an interesting “about-me” section. Care to explain why you think you are what you think you are?”

“I never knew you were on Orkut. Why didn’t you tell me before? This is a surprise, dad” I fumbled with the limited words I had access to.  Had I known that my father had an Orkut account, things would have been much simpler.I would never have craved a digital life. I at least wanted my virtual life to be fun!

“Never mind. Just tell me this. Your profile says you’re an atheist and a lot many things that I never knew you were. Can you please explain?”

One thing I truly detested in my father was this. He never digressed from his topics nor allowed others to mince with words. This was going to be tough, that much was certain. “I came up with that after a self-introspection session” was all I could manage to say. I wanted to please him but didn’t know if I could.

“Oh. And you found out the truth. Hmm. Tell me more. This is interesting.” He was clearly amused. His eyes were dancing. I wanted to run away to a place where there would be no language. Language had taken advantage of my sweetness and left me bereft of all happiness.

“I have always been an atheist, dad. I don’t know how to explain things. You are a living example of God! Why would I believe a God that would not help me and guide me? You and you alone shall have the effect in me. I won’t trust this unknown entity called God.After all that has happened, how can I trust Him? If He were real, he wouldn’t have made us suffer.”

What I didn’t expect at that instant was a sigh of pride in his voice that caused his usually cool temperament to falter.

“You are wrong. The younger generation today has misconstrued the concept of God.” He stood up, his stance reminding me of a lion about to get rampant. That was the only time I ever saw him get agitated.

“All the words I have uttered so far, have had no significance after all” He smiled sadly. I played with my fingers not wanting to face him. But I knew for sure that this god would understand me. “That’s okay. It’s the age. You are not to blame.” He continued, appraising me with his penetrating dark eyes “I tell you again, never ever restrain yourself to what you think you are. This entire life is for you to find out who you are. It’s easy to get influenced by books and the media and proclaim yourself as what is being shoved into your heads. Life is like a game of chess. You and I can’t control this never-ending game ; We are merely pawns of the game. We, the pawns have got infinite potential, yes, that we can destroy our adversary, the opposite King. But we choose not to do it. The King here is Maya which we force ourselves to believe, is the ultimate truth. But just think it over. The fact that the pawns exist is not an illusion. But at times, its very potential is decided by others’ play that it seems like an illusion. So, we, humans, are illusory real entities. The life we lead, is an illusion and yet is real. The pawn will be defeated any time by the allies of the adversary. It’s in our hands to stick to our side of the board and not becoming a scapegoat to the adversary’s plots.”

“Who’s the King on our side?” I was intrigued. I liked this theory very much and wanted to know more. This was also the first time I loved interacting with my father.

This made my father grin. “You are beginning to understand. Now, what what do you think it is?”

I scratched my chin. I almost jumped when I said “Truth or Knowledge”

“Enlightenment, Sidharth”. “You call it Samadhi in theoretical terms” He went on but the lines of perplexity on my face triggered him. “Samadhi is a divine state where the Jeevathma(Soul) mingles with the Paramathma(God).” He smiled again, looking proud when I nodded vigorously. “Or in scientific terms we call it the merging of biomagnetic force with the universal magnetic force.”

I was amazed. How did my father know this much? I despised myself for having not listened to his enlightening words before.

“Fabulous! Who are the queens and other dignitaries?”

“Ha ha! You are getting carried away. This is not a bed time story. But you have insisted and I might as well bore you. But I am only going to tell you who the Queens are. You come up with the rest.” He smiled crookedly, expecting me to join him. When he saw that I was not in the least interested in jokes at that instant, he furrowed his brows and started speaking as if he were giving an impromptu speech.

“The Queen on our side is the Guru or Mentor who helps you in realise yourself and the one abetting Maya or Illusion is Prakriti, the Black Queen, the one who creates Maya.”

Whoever told Chess was boring! I loved the personifications. How bad can that be?

“I have a couple of doubts, dad. Like how can a Guru be the Queen? He/she is human after all. Aren’t they pawns too? Also, do we not have the free will to play the game? Is everything predetermined? If at all everything is predetermined, who controls the game? If God were the controller, what’s His role here? ”

“Hmm. As regards the first question, you need to understand that a role of a mentor/Guru is indispensible for a man to reach the Samadhi state. How can you call such a significant person that helps in your transformation as a mere human/pawn? Is he/she not above all? As I had told you before, you people are under the misconception that we don’t have the right to decide our lives. That, in my opinion is sheer nonsense. We don’t have control over the results. Read the Bhagavad Gita. I don’t have to tell you that God controls the game. He does so from a distance. He is out there, somewhere, following whatever steps we make, to have Maya or Illusion in control. But He doesn’t showcase his presence.  It wouldn’t be fun if He were part of the game. Our side would always win and that would become monotonous. Consider the case in which He hides, watching it all with a smile on his face. He wants us all to lead an adventurous life. No, God isn’t controlling us totally.  Ipso facto, we are the players. It is we who decide about our fate, in either case!” He smiled and I was awestruck.

“We have talked too much today. Think about what I have told you. We’ll talk about this later.”

“But dad, I want to talk about everything now. Please. Not next week.” I stammered and he smiled mysteriously.

“Dad, We shall consider this as a tea break. Please” My heart palpitated.

His ear-ear grin made me gain hope. “And what is the next session about? Personification of coins in a carrom board perhaps?”

We laughed.

Maslow’s hierarchy of needs appraises just that. Every person has needs and none is an exception to that. When the needs get neglected, he automatically turns a cold shoulder to whatever that’s happening. Let’s suppose A loves something dearly, and when A’s expectations fail over a period of time, A becomes indifferent and starts wearing a facade.

What makes people say things like  “I don’t care what others think about me! ” and “I am what I am”? Elementary, my dear Watson. The need to act perverted sets in. Such people want to prove to the world that they don’t care about anything at all while in fact, they do. Sadly, such indulgence is fondly being called “Attitude”.  Is this not hypocritical?

I have met many who act perverted just to attract attention. Ha! Pretense is sickening indeed! What is the need to act perverted, basically? By proclaiming yourself as someone that is not you, you are only making yourself seem stupid to me. I have come across many such paradigms who want to be hated or despised. Indifference gives way to another equally perturbing tool, Hostility. Hypocritical indifference is being rendered as a bow and hostility, as an arrow.

Pretense is the greatest folly of Mankind -Ranjani Ravi aka rampantheart

Why would people want to be hated? The repercussions  of their reactions are very well known to them. People that want to be hated show a strong craving for social acceptance. According to my hypothesis, they want to be either hated or loved. Still don’t get get me? When people know for certain that they don’t get what they want, they use the hate factor as a facade. They want to be either loved or hated:Not Neglected I am reiterating the point. They would rather be loved or hated than being ignored or neglected. Their behavior says they need something to prove others that they exist. That their existence is part of the finite world. That they are part of the infinite cosmos. This is the fundamental aspect of human psychology, in my opinion.

Why do you think the teen population has gone astray? Pretense rules their lives. The time you start thinking you know everything (Why, some even think they know the nexus between Brahman and Atma), ignorance takes the upper hand and makes you fall into the abysmal pit called delusion or Maya.

The next time you come across a person that has a care a damn attitude, don’t ignore him. Acknowledge his presence.  Acknowledgment of the fact that he exists, is what he needs.

Go ahead,  inundate me with your never-ending questions!

Indian politicians need to make the most of today’s technology. L K Advani did the right thing by starting his own blog. His team has made the most of the Google Adwords program. His ads appear even on a technology blog! How immensely popular has he gotten! Well, this is just an example. Our beloved politicians, rather than sticking only to blogging, should be instrumental in Tweeting, too, just to prove that they aren’t Luddites. Twitter is the “in” thing right now. Everybody tweets! Why not our national heroes?  I am compiling a list of 5 reasons why Indian politicians should start Twittering soon. Are you an aspiring politician or are you already a well established one? Follow my tips to become a Twitter Power user.

Popularity

Barack Obama made the most of social media and you now know where he stands. He was a prolific Twitter user during the election time. He has 4,99, 873 followers, as on date. Just think how many people Lalu Prasad Yadav would have if he had his own Twitter account! The followers list will cross 10 million. Incredible, right! Leave alone Indians, he will have a strong fan base internationally! More popularity=More talks= More votes! To gain popularity, start following people like crazy. And interact. That’s the golden mantra.

They can be direct yet concise

It’s a very well known fact that our Politicos are the best when it comes to attacking their counterparts. Rather than straining their wonderful voices, they may start restricting their calumny by being concise.  140 characters is more than enough to point out their counterparts’ vices or start singing their own virtues. Also, unlike a blog wherein comment moderation becomes necessary, Twitter lets you know what people speak about you. Thanks to Twitter search! Thankfully, others wouldn’t know if they get obscene replies(unless or otherwise they mention the party’s name )

Those golden words will stay eternal:

Words, once spoken lose their charm. They don’t have an everlasting effect. The endearing words used by our Politicos should be carved in history, or at least embedded in precious stones. But sadly, no sane human understands their strategy. Humans think that our ‘friends’ are cunning. Have they ever seen a politician in action when he delivers a speech? My blood surges and my jaws tighten when I hear those poor creatures shouting at the top of their voices. Dear politicians, please don’t worry! Those golden words you uttered and still do, will be treasured in the form of Tweets. I am sorry I haven’t found a strategy to carve your words in precious stones, but I am at least trying to help you this way.

Writing isn’t as dangerous as speaking

Supposing we consider a particular time where you foolishly uttered something something against your own beliefs. You become a prey to the media and they start stalking you over the issue. There’s no way to escape. You can do nothing. But in the case of Tweets, you can revert to your old beliefs just by letting people know that you weren’t in your senses when you said that. Tweople are nice folks!  Be prolific with your words! But don’t over do it! You will be taken for a spammer and Tweople might unfollow you.You may even create sympathy with your words.

You can donate to charity and still brag about it

In real life, when you donate to a charity service, not many people know about it unless or otherwise you create an advertisement on television and radio. Most people wouldn’t care if you did that. Or even if people did, that would be soon forgotten. But in the Twitter Wonderland, there’s this concept of retweets that stay in people’s minds forever. Say, a tweet like “I gave INR 50,000 to this organisation today” or ” We(some party) donated half of the event’s revenue to our Nation’s greatest patriot *some name* who died for his country today”. The power of retweets is underestimated. Such heart-wrenching tales could give them the publicity+ retweet juice they badly want. On other interesting aspect of Twittering is they may create a controversy by responding only to Tweets of a particular sect. The people of that sect will of course brag about it and ask their relatives to join Twitter just for following you.

Actually, there are a million reasons why Indian Politicians should join Twitter. But delineating them all would be beyond the scope of this blog.

I would like you all to contribute to the article by letting me know in the comments section,  your own reasons.

Success in life is measured in terms of power,  power in terms of fame and money, they in turn, in terms of how many reality shows you take part in.

Got it? Now you at least know the power reality shows carry! Power is not the only feature! There are lots more! We’ll discuss them all here! BTW, this post is made possible by a show called ” Egiri Guthithaen Kaal Udainthathu” that is featured everyday on ABCD TV! Don’t forget to check out the special feature where celebrities are caught unawares dancing to the tunes of hip-hop , breaking their legs. I love that feature! Before I start eulogising the anchor who speaks a melange of languages that is hard to decipher, I would like to point out why reality shows are a must in today’s world!

From this article, you’ll not only learn

How to take part in reality shows picking the right ones

but also

How to get famous without breaking your close friend’s bones

Selecting your niche

What do I mean by ‘Niche’? It’s the very blogging niche I am talking about. My niche is writing and yours may be technology or social media. But if you want to become famous and be the sparkling star of your area, stop blogging and start scratching your non-existent brains to come up with an “entertainment” niche to bathe in glory and everlasting fame. The fact that I happen to be a singer, is a blessing! Don’t worry! I am gonna help you find yours!

Think! What is your forte? What can you do that your neighbor  Subbu can’t do? Dance, yes! When the 300 pound moron can dance, why not you? Remember, all it takes is a few steps!  Like, you are already angry considering the fact that he’s become the local celebrity. He has taken part in “Singamaada Nariyaada” a month back . What further perturbs you is the sardonic grin shadowing his  frog-like face whenever he sees you. Now is the time to retaliate by taking part in a show that’s even more popular than the one that carried his bulky frame.

Now that you have made a list of programs that carry a higher TRP rating, you need to decide. I know you are facing a manic depression. Be calm. I am here to help you out. Of the two that are making the rounds now, “Lady No. 1″  will give you the glory. Don’t you trust me? Okay, here are the reasons:

1. “Ungalil yaar adutha Omakuchi Narasimman” is not very original. Also, You can’s both dance and crack jokes at the same time. You need to be slim too, which is another vice. Such shows, in my very humble opinion, shouldn’t have prerequisites!

2. Lady No. 1 gives you the chance to know what’s it and how’s it like to be dancing like a lady. Such innovative concepts have never failed to amaze me. Also, the limited options of a man’s dressing is overcome efficiently.

This is just my take. If you thought dancing like a lady wouldn’t be your cup of tea, stop dreaming of fame and start  sulking about your seemingly empty life!

Preparing yourself

You have selected your Niche and have decided to take part in “Lady No 1″ Season 16. The good news is they have even accepted you. Now comes the critical stage. You need to be prepared for the competition. Of course I cant teach you everything. But I am not cold-hearted as to let you cry like a baby in a lost world. I have a simple exercise for you. Write the below awe-inspiring sentence everywhere you go:

Only the fittest shall survive

Thank Charles Darwin for the above quote and start practising. Don’t ever think pessimistic. You are going to win, no matter what! Ask your lady friends for tips but be discreet. You wouldn’t want your foes to know you are going to have them beat, would you? Start dreaming! NOW!

Be buttermouthed and get emotional:

The judges seem to like whatever you do. You are leading the scoreboard in all the rounds and you are constantly bathed in beatific words like “Mind boggling! Fabulous!  Awesome”. Some even go to the extent to say they have had an out-of-body experience. You are basking in glory, alright, but don’t go too far! If it’s happiness and pride you have on your face, wipe those out. Learn to cry! The golden rule to make an everlasting impression and melt the judges’ hearts  easily is to cry. I repeat.

The golden rule to make an everlasting impression and melt people’s’ hearts easily is to cry.

Cry, Cry and Cry! You shall succeed! – Reality Rangan, prestigious winner of Gaana Isai Virundhu said thus. [ The original words Azhu Azhu Azhudhukkunae iru. Gelichiruvae Raasaa are copyrighted to him]

When you are given a chance to speak, choke with words and tell you are indebted to everyone including the anchor who helped you understand the significance of dressing. After you are done with your subsequent rounds, now is the time to exhibit some of your not so sweet characteristics. When the judge tells you you were not so great which is of course incidental, start crying and make it a big issue. Tell them you are not gonna take it any longer.  The secret to making the whole world talking about you is this. Practise creating such a scene beforehand so that it helps you.

Retaliate

You have become famous and people all over the world are talking about you. Your name comes first for google searches. The aftereffects are awesome and you can’t believe you are the same person that was, before. People on the streets start calling you Lady No. 1 and chase you. Flaunt everything in front of Subbu and have a lopsided grin attached to your face wherever you go! Success, power and fame are yours!

You shall follow the same steps for other shows as well. Just a few small tips for music related ones! Music related shows are becoming hot property now! You don’t even have to practise. Go there straightaway and experiment. Don’t care about the Shruti nor the cracks in your screeching voice. Just sing. Who knows, you might win a chance to sing for films! There’s a golden mantra for this! Don’t lose confidence!

To reiterate the same, I am pointing out an inspiring incident. Recently, the show “Rottora Super Singer” carried a segment where the singers of  Super 80 were joined by another 20 participants  eliminated in the previous rounds but still were given a chance to prove their talents! I was close to tears seeing it! We think people around us are ruthless but how kind they are! How cool would it be if things like that happened in life! I would like MNC s to consider this approach. They should be kind enough to give people chances!

Conclusion

I don’t want to overwhelm you with my powerfully intense words. I have written a book called ” Reality Show um therukkoothu Thillairajan um” which is available for special discount rates at “Naerathai Veenaakku” dot com.It contains everything you need to know! The book is a one stop knowledge tank for people who are new to the concept.

I have just let a secret that every individual on his quest to becoming famous, must know! Don’t thank me! Thank all those legends who have been contributing to the Reality show era! This is just a philanthropic work!But if you still insist that I am entitled to at least one percent of your prize share, you know where to reach me.

Take part in Reality Shows and live your life to the fullest! At least, Reality Shows don’t suck like reality. People give you a lot of chances there! Trying won’t hurt! May you succeed in all your reality show endeavours!

Image credit: Flickr

This time, I looked at the couple before me who were joining hands and having a leisured walk. I snorted, struggling in vain to hide the frustration. I stopped short and closed my eyes when the inner voice told me to die. Clenching my fists, I slumped forward, in total delirium.

“I am not Masochistic”, this was my optimistic voice hissing violently, answering the other vulnerable voice. “I am not going to die nor refrain from the tranquility I am entitled to, no matter what!”.  By now an old man came to my side asking if I was okay. He was taking a casual stroll across the beach, I gathered, only he was in his perfect senses and I was not. I was convinced I was brain-damaged, for, no words escaped my dry throat. My brain was too jammed to function. All I could do was mumble a plain “Yes. Thanks” with a  grave smile.

“Hmm. Okay. You look awful though. Have you brought someone with you?”

I hated his inquisitive nature but couldn’t bring myself to ask him to mind his own business.

“Give me some space oldie, don’t bother me with your questions. Leave me alone”  I was almost successful in mouthing the words, trying to act nonchalant and rude but it was a very bad show. I created a very feeble impression of a ‘tough’ person.

He chuckled, nodding wisely, all the while measuring me with his shrewd eyes. I thought those eyes would miss nothing or was my very being an open dictionary? I didn’t know. I just glared at him. But what would go wrong if I talked to him? The least I wanted now was someone advising me. If this person started unleashing his persuasive powers on me, I might as well make my escape.

“I am going alone. There’s none with me. I came here alone and am going alone. ” I managed to answer at last, surprising myself.

His ear-ear grin angered me. “What’s so funny about that?” I managed to hiss through pursed lips.

“Nothing, My young lady. I am sorry I provoked your anger. So, tell me more about you. You seem to be interesting”

I gave him what authors in their novels usually liked mentioning, a vicious scowl.

“Now now, don’t look at me like that. That frightens me”  He grinned again and this time I could sense compassion soak his words.

” Please,  Whoever you are, leave me alone. I don’t want people telling me what’s right and what is not. If you knew what I have been going through lately, you wouldn’t bother me with your advice. No, I am not suicidal and won’t contemplate doing something lethal to myself. I have just found out what I want to do and where I need to be, to complete my existence. I am going right there and yes, I know where I am going. I am not hallucinating.”

The words were out before I even wanted to utter them. The confession and not-so-complete catharsis  evoked the dry tears that appeared from nowhere. I was in pain, but how could I bother others with my pain? I couldn’t reason. I hated myself for unabashedly telling a stranger, my predicament.

” I am not going to tell you what you need to do. Of what use is your sixth sense when you can’t reason? No, I am not going to try to talk you into doing what you would rather not do. But don’t be a fool by taking decisions on a whim. You’ll only regret them later. Think, but take decisions with your heart. Being emotional is not wrong, as often as it is exhibited the other way round.  Think and then feel. You’ll be surprised that your emotions have led you to a logical decision.”

The intensity of his words hypnotised me. The smooth words sounded perfectly synchronised with my current situation. But still, something was amiss. I knew not what.

The momentary silence gave him another chance to speak but this time, less harsher.

“Child, look here, I am too tired to stand the scorching heat. Why don’t we sit on the bench over there and resume our talking?”

My legs and arms moved voluntarily. I felt like a puppet.

My silence would have perturbed him for he addressed me with laughter in his wise old eyes.  ” Young charming lady, so, why don’t you tell me what your name is so that you can be freed of the embarrassing adjectives that are likely to be used? Also, to free me from my eternal boredom, why don’t you honor me by entertaining me with your story?”

His expression softened and an infectious smile set in.With the next sentence, he nearly achieved in making my expressionless face show some emotion.

“If you would rather I tended to my own business, I would still want to listen to the story” he added with a twinkle in his eyes, his infectious smile still lingering on his solemn countenance. By now, my tears had dried.

I wiped my eyes and opened my mouth, closing it again as a spasm of grief evoked the painful memories.

“I am just being curious. Why did you not listen to my story first and then offer me counsel? Should it not have been the other way round?” I suppressed a smile and asked him as plainly as possible.

“I love working backwards from the solution. It has always worked the best for me. Did it not work out now?”  The same lighthearted grin again, masquerading his concern.

I mumbled something unintelligible not knowing how to start the story my story. I badly needed to talk to someone. It might as well be this magical old man.

Sensing my embarassment, he added quickly in a caressing voice  “Would you like to talk about it?”

I glanced at both my sides looking if there were people near us. Thankfully, the place was isolated. He adjusted his spectacles and smiled his smile.

“I don’t know what makes me do this. I have never burdened other people with my worries. But this time, you asked for it and am giving it to you wholeheartedly” I tried to smile but couldn’t. Every part of my body ached. Momentarily I was distracted by a young girl in the bright blue frock who was struggling to cling to her dad’s hand, evidently afraid of the huge waves . A pang of jealousy hit me as I carelessly bit my lips.

He harrumphed good- naturedly and I laughed a dry laugh, admiring his patience.

I got up from my place, adjusting my long legs so that I could speak without discomfort. The old man slightly inclined himself to my side,  his face impenetrable.
His serious disposition encouraged me to begin my tale of doom.

“To cut a long story short, I am sparing you the details of how I met and married Rahul. Or would you like an elaborate flashback story?”

This time it was I who appeared frivolous. At another time I would have made a perfect raconteur.

He would have sensed that I didn’t need an audience now. He stayed mum without wanting to interrupt the catharsis.

” Rahul and I met 4 years back. I am not so sure how the friendship blossomed into love. Nor do I care about it now”  I sighed and closed my eyes, sinking in melancholy.

“Life was exhilarating then. It used to be so much fun.  I couldn’t have asked for more. But not now. I hate myself for having chosen a person who is in no way perfect for me”  The old memories brought a melange of feelings.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, Kid”

I continued, ignoring the last few words.

” When I married, like all teenagers  I thought that life would be a fairy tale.” I paused and spoke the words immediately with an ironical smile ” with a happy ending. Well, it was a fairy tale before I caught Rahul cheating on me” I broke down at this instant, hyperventilating.

” First, I brushed aside any doubts regarding his promiscuity but later when I knew the truth .. ” I couldn’t bring myself to complete the sentence. Tears of anguish and self-pity glided down my already tears-stained cheeks.

I was crying unabashedly in front of a stranger and he looked at me like he would, at a child.

“I am sorry. I don’t usually cry. I don’t really know what happened right now. My life is ruined.”

“And where do you intend to go now that you say your life is ruined ?” The lopsided grin didn’t escape my attention.

“I don’t know” the words slipped out meekly.

“Okay. Did you confront Rahul with the accusation? If yes, how did he react to it? ”

” No I didn’t. I should have but what’s the use anyway? Do you think it will make much of a difference? ” The resigned tone set in.

” I have never seen such a careless woman in my 73 years”  He arched his eyebrows up and looked at me with half-amused eyes.

” Look, It’s your life, Child! You shouldn’t have been indifferent to all his promiscuities”

“Only one. Not promiscuities“  I almost snapped.

“I am sorry I slandered” he chuckled and started speaking again his words falling quickly this time .

” When you knew what he was up to, why didn’t you confront him? Why were you indifferent to your own life? After all you only have one life. Make the most of it. Don’t act foolish by running away from problems. Moreover, it’s your life. Who will take care of the problems if you don’t? If you got chickened out for such a trivial problem, what would you do in the future? Believe me, there are more to come. Life is tough at times but it’s in our hands to weed out the problems and make use of what we have.”

While the monologue addressed did make me think, I wasn’t altogether pleased. The word “trivial” provoked me.  If  his wife had done something like that, what would he have done?  ‘It’s always easy to preach’ I mused.

“Of course, I don’t support what your husband did.” he resumed as though tracing my thought process.

“But why make a big issue of it? Fight, make him plead. Make him understand that he has committed a grave mistake. Forgive him! Why are you making a coward of yourself sinking in self-pity and unwanted despair? Also, your escaping reality is not going to last long. Be practical! If you went away, who’ll guarantee the happiness you had with your spouse? You may marry another man, have a great life. Let’s suppose he does the same thing or is involved in immoral activities. What would you do then? Marry another guy?”  He stopped short, his staunch brown eyes regarding me with mixed emotions.

” Feminists wouldn’t like this idea very much. Well, are you one?” He suppressed a grin.

I did not answer. I didn’t know how I felt like at that instant. It wasn’t delirium. I wouldn’t even call it exultation. It was something different; something  serene. I was no longer confused. I was going to live my life and fight back. I had every right to question him. There might be a great deal of crying and cussing involved, but it was worth it. I was mentally prepared for my tryst with destiny. And that was all that mattered.

Lying comfortably on my back
And gazing intently at the moon,
I basked in the glory of the moment
Secretly wishing it would never end.
The stars, though ad infinitum,
Failed to amaze me.
My eyes were hypnotized by the enigmatic moon,
her graceful stance and her inexpressible delicacy.

I always thought stars were a mirage,
And that they were just guarding the moon,
She, who always was in an abysmal solitude and misery,
Or so I thought.
Do they seem to worry lest the vulnerably delicate one should be held captive?
I was turning into a poet, alright.
The very idea made me laugh
And I struggled in vain to stifle a lopsided grin.

Her loneliness tore my heart.
And her brave posture evoked a sense of sympathy
for reasons I couldn’t fathom why.
I felt sorry for the knights, the faithful followers,
Who watched her over,
Wasting their time.
My eyes clouded over in compassion for the intrepid yet delicate queen
Who seemed to wait eternally for the one.

Image credit: Flickr

Lord Krishna says to Arjuna

Lord Krishna-Arjuna: The Bhagavad Gita

Image Credit: Flickr

Karmanyeva adhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana

Ma karmaphalahetur bhurma te sangostvakarmani.

which can be translated into something like this: (not literally)

Do your Duty and Leave the Rest to God

To my knowledge,the full essence of the above phrases goes something like this:

Do your duty but never expect the result because the result is nothing but a mirage. It’s plain Maya. When you get caught in the aftermath, you live in the world( which, philosophically speaking, is itself an illusion) of Maya.

A person who calculates the results of his action becomes selfish. Normally, the human mind always has a ready question like “Why is it wrong to expect the results of action I have worked hard for?” for the above sentence. Now, asking the first question “What am I working hard for?” will drive you to finding the ultimate  truth. Other people and I can’t of course answer that question for you

Okay, that tells me you’re still not convinced! ( By the way, I am not here to convince people. I am just helping people feed their hungry minds)  Time for me to delineate even further.

When people start expecting the results, they become restless and lose their calm. Their sense of equanimity vanishes and is replaced by Rajas. The Rajas quality creates attachment and selfishness. Due to this behavior, they rely on the outcome of their deeds expecting things in return. Now, when what they’ve expected doesn’t turn out well, they become angry. Or what they done doesn’t give them the desired results, they become dissatisfied. Anger is the main characteristic of the Rajas Guna. When they turn angry, they are tempted by the Rajas Guna to seek materialistic pursuits with a sense of vengeance. Thus, they lose their minds. It is at this point they turn materialistic and lose themselves to Maya.

If you had an eye for details, you would notice that Lord Krishna doesn’t say ” Don’t do your duty”. He says “Do your duty but don’t expect the outcome” . Isn’t this a solid proof to let people know that our Sanatana Dharma indeed allows the concept of Free Will?  Yes! We are fortunate enough to do what we want but don’t have control over the results!

Image credit: Flickr

I have been conferred the “Arte-y-pico” award by Kartz of Contorted Reality. I would like to thank him very much for his support, constructive feedback and appreciation all along, without which I wouldn’t be this rampant in my writings or have shown improvements, if any. Thanks Karthik! I am honored! I always value an award that comes from someone who knows the rules of the game really well!

WHAT’S THE ARTE-Y-PICO AWARD?

The phrase Arte-y-pico can be roughly translated to “Peak of art” and the term’s spanish.The “Arte-y- Pico” award was created to be given to bloggers who inspire others with their creative energy and their talents, whether it be writing, artwork in all media. When you receive this award it is considered a special honor. Once you have received this award, you are to pass it on to at least 5 others.

THE RULES:

1)Pick five blogs that you consider deserve this award.

2) Each award must have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

3) Each award winner must show the award and put the name and link to the blog that awarded it.

4) Award-winner and the one who awarded must show the link of “Arte-y-Pico” blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.

AND THE AWARD GOES TO:

I have always hated obeying rules. So, I am giving out the prestigious award to 6 lovely people!

Saraswathi Mukkai

I have always admired Saraswathi for her lucid writing. Her blog captures human emotions so well!

Matangi Mawley

Matangi’s short stories have always bowled me over! She has amazing writing skills and is a raconteur of promise.

Macadamia, the nut

I absolutely adore Mac for her clean writing that comes with a melange of humour and satire!

Karthik Ramaswamy

Karthik writes realistic stories that stand out from the rest.

Ash

Dear Ash’s inspiring posts always have their effect on me!

Alberto

Ever seen a young blogger that writes about politics? Here you have one! Alberto is a recent find! His political inclination makes me happy and proud, in a way! Such people do exist, these days! Not all are reckless!

The award is my New Year gift to all these extraordinary people!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, FOLKS! Have a terrific year ahead!

What started as a simple telephone conversation ended in love. No, that’s not unusual. But to her, it was.  She absently caressed her raven black hair in a state of  absolute frenzy. When she came to her senses , she chided herself on making her straightened hair a mess. She was going to meet him for the first time and was all excited. Checking her profile for the thousandth time on the dutiful mirror that revealed her not-so-curvaceous figure, she let her fidgety gaze rest on her manicured hands. If she was happy with what she saw, she didn’t show it. It was too much for the mirror to bear. If it had the power to blow itself to a thousand pieces, it would readily have. It let out a smirk thinking how it would be, under the very circumstances. Meanwhile, its rather beauty-conscious, narcissistic mistress checked her profile from a different angle which traumatized the mirror more than ever. In all its 20 years of being there and acting as a faithful servant, it had never seen this much folly. It wanted to yell out loud at its mistress for her unscrupulous ways. [ The mirror pitied her parents. It appreciated her parents’ interest in making her study further though they had limited resources. And here its mistress was, giving it a compliant Dharshan almost 24/7 though uncalled for] So, the principled mirror was in a fit of rage and wished it had the power to do things out of its reach. It let out a coarse sob that ricocheted nowhere.

 The mirror endearingly called its mistress an “Extortionist” for her power-abusing skills. It wanted a break, like all others and wanted something else for a change. This was a mundane life and it hated its mistress for it. She was involving it in purposeless pursuits. It couldn’t hold a grudge though. It was after all, her servant. And the obedient mirror liked its mistress’s cute smile a few years before. The time when its mistress had not been its prolific user and the time when she rarely made her appearance at its dwelling place: the bedroom. Those were the golden days. The mirror would laugh gleefully looking at its mistress playing outside with her friends.  But now! It didn’t feel morally right to think thoughts of enmity but it was inevitable.

 The Mirror practically went wild when its Mistress brought clowns along with her who only exacerbated matters. It had wished her prudent friends would advice her against her turning into a full time narcissist. But the senile sycophants didn’t have to be profuse in their language. A few words like “You’ll look much better when you wear a bright pink Kurta” and “ Your hair is a bloody mess. Do something about it. Else, the usual ones that make a pass at you won’t even take a second glance”! And the mirror, its shiny edges glowing with resentment, wanted to tell them “ Oh yeah. Why don’t you do something about the sporadic usage of your almost non-existent brains? “ It pitied the girls who were falling into the nadir of mirage.

 While the Mirror was thinking such human thoughts, its mistress had her mind elsewhere. She hated the way her stomach protruded in the tight-fitting bright pink Kurta. Her to-do list for the year was to go to a gym and take care of her physique. Also, she wasn’t satisfied with the way the mirror showed her rather round face. She had expected  to envision an oval face. She had been dieting to maintain a perfect figure. What had gone wrong! She knew very well about the fact that she was attractive but there was more to her wishlist. She wanted to be lean and curvaceous and compared her profile with a friend’s in her mind. She was in no way modest about her beauty. She wanted to flaunt her ‘gift’ in every way possible. And that was finally going to happen. And nothing on earth stopped her from smiling a iridescent smile that made her heart flutter with a thousand emotions: Not even her not-so-curvaceous figure. All that mattered to her right now was him and the fact that she was going to meet him in a couple of hours. 

She was restless and every single part of her body showed it, unfaithfully. It all started a month ago when she had got a message from an ‘admirer’. That’s when she started developing an inseparable nexus between her mirror and her.  She was intrigued as to who the admirer was and what started as curiosity ended in love (over the telephone). She was going to meet the man of her dreams that day, much to the chagrin of the mirror which knew nothing about all this.

 The mirror let out a sigh in relief, when its mistress took a last glance at it dotingly and mumbled a few words to herself. Her perfectly made-up face looked beautiful indeed and the mirror wished it knew what she was doing. When she was done with whatever she was doing, she kissed the mirror goodbye and chirped all the way to her bike.

 For what seemed like an eon, the mirror waited for its mistress’s arrival.

 The first emotion that engulfed her as she saw his face was disgust. If she had expected to see Mr Gorgeous there, she definitely was mistaken. The disappointment in her surpassed her curiosity and from her demeanor, she was not taken with the not-so-charming prince. He didn’t look like Brad Pitt, but succeeded in making people fall for him by his sense of humor. That was what she had fallen for. The coarse voice that could make fun of anything she had valued as serious in life. But now, her expectations were drowned. She had thought she had found her ideal someone. But the ideal someone had cheated her into thinking he was handsome. Sadly, she didn’t realize that she had idolized him as Prince Charming. If she had the guilty conscience that the mistake was with her, she didn’t show it. She remained impassive throughout the insipid date and mumbled a few words in excuse for leaving the place. Hot tears emanated from her big eyes. She was warily aware of the detail that her made up face would look clumsy. The tears ebbed at last.

 She reached her place at last, wiping the last traces of tears on her face and slammed the mahogany door shut furiously that the Mahogany door winced. The mirror held itself in straight attention and couldn’t believe what it saw. Its mistress was all bleary-eyed and looked like an apparition. It had expected the rapturous laugh that was characteristic of her. What caught the mirror off-guard was the way its mistress behaved. She started wailing so loud that it wanted to soothe and pacify her. She mouthed a few words in frustration and began breaking objects in her picturesque little showcase. The mirror knew its mistress too well to gain its equanimity. She was a volcano about to erupt and it painfully knew it.

 She broke a lot of objects in her showcase but her anger wouldn’t subside and her anger was actually happy that she didn’t do anything to stop it. So it began its reign proudly. It had its own share of sorrow. Its mistress never used it like she used his new enemy, the mirror. She was biased and Anger couldn’t digest this. It wanted retaliation and now was the time. Now or never.

 In what seemed like a microsecond, a big wooden doll sashayed through the air and hit the mirror, straight across is its face and it crashed. In its last minutes of life, the mirror showed a multitude of emotions. But it crashed eventually and had a not-so-great death. 

Anger gave a devilish grin giving way to self-pity and the beauty-conscious Mistress indulged in it, not aware of what she had done. 

 Image Credit: Flickr