Friday, February 18, 2011

Try...Come What May...


You might need 
  To drink some water,
   You might need 
     To nurse that knee,
      You might want to experience 
        The tree's shade,
         But before that, try, earnestly...
          You may face a thousand bolts at once,
           And a score of terrible fears may spoil your night,
            But before you succumb to what you might call Fate,
             Don't you, my friend, forget to fight.


And The Nostalgia Is Reborn

     Just around this time last year, we students of standard X were adding those final 'touches' that would, and did, apparently, do a lot to the final picture.
     And yet, as a student of a college, I can see the excitement, the tension build itself   among students, teachers and exam centres (my college is one) alike. The future is expensive. The present seems cheap. But one's past is either hidden or treasured   as skeletons in one's closet or as the secret event that led to one success after another. How I remember and miss the hundreds of friend-circle unions (meetings sounds better?) before the board exams, b****ing about the SSC board (pardonez-moi pour mon mauvais français), talking about the philosophy of missing and being missed, to teachers at school!
     And , as Maddy Razz correctly points out, it all boils down to one thing   moving on. Moving on is the act of putting behind oneself, all the rancour pent up inside of us; is building bridges where earlier were walls; is growing up, when we understand the clear distinction between growing and growing up. Moving on is akin to learning to never say never. There is always a "Hi!" after a "Good-bye!".
     Thus, many of my senior friends will be moving out of college   moving out of the nest we were in   some because they found better colleges, some because they have some other reason. On the other hand, most will stay in college. We'll become SYJCs soon. The SYJCs hitherto, will get newer lives, newer identities. 
     
   It's all in the movement.
      We are all on the move.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Not Without My Splendid Suns

     I completed reading Betty Mahmoody's and William Hoffer's  'Not Without My Daughter' (non-fiction) today. A true-life story of Betty, it is sure a story to move the stoniest of hearts. Well, I had completed reading Khaled Hosseini's 'A Thousand Splendid Suns' (fiction) about two years ago. They are books of a genre. And thus, I had started subconsciously AND consciously comparing them, only to realise today that to do so was no mean blunder.
     NWMD is a real-life story, and thus, realistic in approach. Betty, here is an American woman, and her values, thus, differ from Laila's or Mariam's, in ATSS, where the writing is so very perfect, you cannot not think it is non-fiction. Both the books are however, similar in some respects   they tell you the value of freedom like no other book I know of does. 
     Am I speaking too much, revealing too much? Maybe! Go get the books. Awesomeness personified, they are; rays of hope, they are. :)

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Of Death

When the smells of the body and the earth make stench,
When the sounds of blood gushing and wind blowing create noise,
When the king enjoys his silken bed but the beggar has none,
Death, You arrive.
Riding on the horse of Grief.
And with a whip of sudden pain, 
Separate the soul from its cage.
Some call it the cage of life.

You are selective of whom you take.
You work in your own crazy paradigms of functioning;
Your whims decide how you take them.


The person sees black or blue or white or nothing at all.
And you come to them.
They come to you.
You perfectly complement Birth,
You bring pauses where needed.

And the smells of the body and the earth turn one,
And the sounds of blood gushing and wind blowing mix,
And the king enjoys his bed now, and so does the beggar.








Saturday, February 5, 2011

Boredom


Boredom, boredom!
Yes, Jai...?
Want a phatka?
No, Jai...!
Sod off then!
No, Jai...!
Chaila...aata boredom pan shining maarayla laagla!

Friday, February 4, 2011

A true-blue INFJ!

INFJs are conscientious and value-driven. They seek meaning in relationships, ideas, and events, with an eye toward better understanding themselves and others. Using their intuitive skills, they develop a clear and confident vision, which they then set out to execute, aiming to better the lives of others. Like their INTJ counterparts, INFJs regard problems as opportunities to design and implement creative solutions.

Nothing much to tell about what is oopar. :) Tres bien.
INFJs are quiet, private individuals who prefer to exercise their influence behind the scenes. Although very independent, INFJs are intensely interested in the well-being of others. INFJs prefer one-on-one relationships to large groups. Sensitive and complex, they are adept at understanding complicated issues and driven to resolve differences in a cooperative and creative manner.
Tres bien, again.
INFJs have a rich, vivid inner life, which they may be reluctant to share with those around them. Nevertheless, they are congenial in their interactions, and perceptive of the emotions of others. Generally well-liked by their peers, they may often be considered close friends and confidants by most other types.
Soothsaying statement? Nah! :)
 However, they are guarded in expressing their own feelings, especially to new people, and so tend to establish close relationships slowly. INFJs tend to be easily hurt, though they may not reveal this except to their closest companions. INFJs may "silently withdraw as a way of setting limits", rather than expressing their wounded feelings—a behavior that may leave others confused and upset.
I can actually think of the many times I have actually done that!
INFJs tend to be sensitive, quiet leaders with a great depth of personality. They are intricately and deeply woven, mysterious, and highly complex, sometimes puzzling even to themselves. They have an orderly view toward the world, but are internally arranged in a complex way that only they can understand. Abstract in communicating, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. With a natural affinity for art, INFJs tend to be creative and easily inspired. Yet they may also do well in the sciences, aided by their intuition.
Science + Jai = NULL SET :P

My Pride. Our Pride.

     The Queer Azadi Pride March was on the 29th of last month. And since I am just going to be seventeen, I missed it by two years. Two whole years. But never mind. Sometimes, the spectators derive more joy than the participants themselves. I don't know if I could compare the participants' joy with mine, but I was euphoric the whole day, for it was a day that my community walks. Walks for recognition. Some sources also tell me that this time, the parade witnessed a lesser number of masked people   people have been coming out of the closet.
     Walks for the right that one can love across all boundaries, least of all, gender. The sun shines brightly and gives as much life to one as to another. When there is no discrimination of any sort in nature, except perhaps in ability, it is evident it's we who've built walls in place of bridges.
The rainbow. My rainbow. Our rainbow.

     But I believe that one day, we shall, if not completely, stop being stereotypical, and see the world in a new light. Speak of the dawn. It's just there. Just there. :)