New Year, New Beginnings and the Same Old Story.

The year's almost come to an end, just seven hours left, to be precise.
Some are getting ready for parties, dinners, night-outs and all the things that people like you and I would like to do on a night so special. It's all perfectly normal.

So, is there a catch? Sadly, if you might say so, there is. There is always a catch.
Of course, this year has been great for so many of us, and for others, not that great. Well, good, bad, and shades of grey apart, the point is, we're so quick to dismiss out misfortunes in the hope of a better tomorrow. Then again, hope is something we all cherish, no matter how dark the times; it gives us a sense of reason, destroys the futility of life, makes us believe that there is a tomorrow, and that it is gonna be better than today, or perhaps yesterday. All that's perfectly normal. I mean, even I allow myself that little bit of delusion.

What I have a problem with is the fact that we can never fully come to understand and respect the 'tomorrow', or in today's very special case, 'the new year'.

'End of the World in 2012 Conspiracy' apart, there's a lot that we're just forgetting. Not on purpose; that would be understandable. But by sheer, shameless neglect.
Am I cynical? Of course, I am. You can appreciate the fineness of life only after criticizing and demeaning it.

For example, resolutions. There is no bigger lie on earth that we've invented than New Year Resolutions. It's just to make ourselves feel better (yes, that includes me, too. No matter how much I try, I am human). We feel better for all that we haven't done, and for all that we're not going to do.
Moralistic reasoning apart, some resolutions do work out. Not because it has the auspicious stamp of a 'new year', but for the simple fact that it's a change we accept. We might lose those extra kilos, we might ask the person we like out, we might become super successful, super rich, super intelligent and class toppers. But the truth remains, the world will still be a lousy place. Of course, we'll be liberated from that mess; now that's for someone else to resolve, isn't it?
Sadly, they never quite do get resolved.

Personally, I don't dwell on the past. Nostalgia is one thing; keeping the past half alive, quite another. Actually, the correct phrase is, 'burying the past alive'. Brutally, and in cold-blood.
So, call me cynical or whatever you may, I think you're all murderers. You got away with the murder of your past, and will get away after you murder the future.
People you never cared for, people who receive your mocked pity, they're all buried alive, like the past. Forgotten, uncared for and simply silenced.
That's the price of a 'better' tomorrow. That's the price of your mawkish fantasies.
You can make it stop. Yes, you can. But whether or not you will, now, that is an entirely different question, is it not? The one, perhaps, you may not want to answer.

Well, anyway, happy new year! And have a fantastic 2011!

A walk on Christmas night

Oh, it’s Christmas night,

But there ain’t, sadly,

a soul in sight.

Oh, it’s Christmas night,

But there ain’t, sadly,

a starry light.

                                                                                               

There is snow on the streets

as every mile passes under my feet,

I feel the cold wind on my face,

as I try to find a peaceful place.

Jesus was born on this day,

Beautiful gifts Three Kings had given away.

Oh, what a glorious past; what a story we hear,

and, yet there are many who weep in fear.

Oh, what a wretched Christmas this is!

The crying child yearns for his mother’s kiss.

Betrayed by my own humankind,

I walk on the road, leaving my past behind.

I walk

Towards the days of peace;

Where every man can walk with his head held high!

I walk

Towards the days of joy;

Where every child will play and not have to cry!

I walk

Towards the days of forgiveness;

Where every wrongdoer will never have to lie!

Oh, I’ll walk and I’ll keep walking on the streets;

though now so lonely, but will one day shine

in the Lord’s love and his eternal glory!

When it shall have colours bright!

And happy sounds, when all rejoice

On Christmas night…

And when that day comes,

I’ll find another lonely road to walk on,

On another cold, Christmas night…

An Idiot's Guide To Writing Poetry

Well, there are many who've defined poetry, ranging from romantics to cynics, to realists to imaginists (if there is any school of thought like that), and each person has defined poetry differently from the other (not necessarily for copyright protection). It's just that poetry is such as important part of literature, of every kind, age, event...it is something that inspires men to great actions, laments their failures, and enshrines their hopes. Besides, the ladies (many of them, that is) have a thing for poets! 

I started writing poetry out of some odd reason; I didn't exactly know what it was. Then I realized it was a form of expression, a medium. Whichever idea didn't fit in prose or sketches, found its way in poetry; and a simple sketch could inspire a poem. 

So, having given my take on poetry, here's a guide to writing simple (& complex) poetry to, well, um, give expression to your ideas...but, I can't promise if it'll make the ladies swoon...

Here goes:

1. Decide what kind of a poet you want to be: cynic, romantic etc. there are many. The classification is never written in stone, but while writing a particular piece, make sure you get your perspective right. Never be bound in ideologies, but do justice to your thoughts.

2. Decide what type of poem you want to write: free-verse, ballad, short, long. Never compromise on ideas; let your thoughts keep flowing, write whatever comes to your mind, if it rhymes, or doesn't rhyme...it's more important to keep the 'flow' alive. 

3. Figures of speech: Ignore them. Never write poetry after thinking about the figures of speech, that's for English literature students. In my experience (whatever little I have) poets never give much attention to figures of speech; they're always seen in retrospection. The only thing you need to work on is alliteration, especially the long verses (Eg: V's introduction in "V For Vendetta"). Always keep a dictionary handy, and never get bound by styles, keep your mind free.

4. Poetic License: a friend of mine introduced me to this term. It means, all frills apart, you can write something that makes sense, without it making sense grammatically. Like "the a life of conformance" (OK, that is a word, but it's more effective than 'conformity'. Um, get the point?)

5. Profoundness in the pointless: 'Cat sat on a mat.' Most people would consider that absurd, and some even downright hilarious (what, don't you see the humour!?). This is 'profoundness', something that only veterans can comprehend. So, point in case, leave it to the English lit guys to discover the 'profoundness'.

6. Get yourself a muse. Someone who inspires your work, someone you admire, and respect. This doesn't amount to staring at people you have a crush on under the pretext of 'being inspired'. Always respect your muse. It's extremely unprofessional not to do so (who am I to say so? Whose note are you reading, eh?)

7. Watch 'Dead Poet's Society' and be inspired. Absorb everything that Robin Williams says, it's like the revelation for poets (wannabe and veterans). It's not about poetry, it's about life; an attitude, an outlook. I'm mentioning this as the last point simply because if I hadn't then you wouldn't have read this note! 

I'd just like to say that I'm not poking fun at English Literature; I just find their ways a little, how can I say, orthodox.

Then again, that's what poetry is about, breaking the orthodoxy. Your poetry is a part of you, never do injustice to it! Never be bound by styles...create your own art, define yourself.... 

Those Who (think they) Know Better

I met a friend of mine this morning. Well, he’s not actually a ‘friend’, just some dude who was with me in school. You know, another one of those, ‘oh-I-can-get-anything-done’ types.

So, the conversation goes like this:

Him: what’re you doing these days?

Me: I’m doing my BA from St Xavier’s.

Him: what? why do you  have to go that far?! I could get your admission done here in Ulhasnagar!

Me: um, what makes you think I wanna go to Ulhasnagar?

Him: arrey! It’s not worth it going that far! that too for a BA! So, what’re you doing after that?

Me: planning to do an MA.

Him: what!? You wanna become a teacher or what?

Me: yeah. (He gives a stupefied look; actually, he looks that way, but this was more pronounced) So, what are you doing?

Him: law, I couldn’t get into computer science.

Me: great…so, now you’re gonna be attesting documents in front of Esplanade?

Well, I didn’t exactly saw those lines (what! it’s rude, right?) Nevertheless, I meant every word of it. 

I’m pretty sure you guys must’ve met characters like this friend of mine at some point in your life; be it a friend, a cousin, uncle, aunt or even some random acquaintance in the train (yes, even that has happened to me. This particular person tried convincing me to do an MBA then get into finance, because marketing is ‘too hectic’).

And I am also sure that they’ve managed to test your patience time and again. They never seem to understand, do they? I call this, the ‘i-know-better’ syndrome’ (for the lack of a better name…)

These people, as my observations go, are a given in societies. You see them in communities, trains (in plenty, mind you!), and among any social group. As irritating as they are, they manage to serve a purpose: to annoy you (ok, not scientific), and give you a lot to think about. Out of many notions, the one that first comes to your mind is: ‘God, I hope I don’t turn out like that.’

They boast about their contacts, relatives, and Heaven knows someone from somewhere, while they, themselves are stuck in the mediocrities of life. Yes, sometimes I do feel like pitying them, not exactly pity, sorry; but, just sympathize. For all their contacts, they never could make things ok for themselves. Or, perhaps, it’s because of these very contacts that they are where they are, and not on a level worse than that. Because, God help me (and them) if they were.

Do Say: “So, can I have the number of that contact-chap? Is he on Facebook?”

Don’t say: “Dude, I’m training to be a career counselor. Here’s my contact.”

My Experiments in Conformity

Conformity, to begin with, is a term used social-psychology. I first came across it while I was researching for my project in junior college, and since then, it has been a topic of interest.
The word is used in everyday jargon almost inconspicuously, people often substituting it for the erstwhile commonplace term 'copying'. However, conformity is much more than blatant copying; that is what you do in exams, especially when the supervisor's not paying attention, and when your knowledge is absolutely zero. The best part about conformity, I must say, is that even in situations of blatant copying (such as the one mentioned above), there is conformity at play.

To fully understand the finer nuances of conformity, I have participated in some covert social experiments, of which my peers weren't aware of. Well, actually, until before writing this essay, even I wasn't aware of it. But then, that is precisely the wonder of conformity...!

Experiment One: "The Chinese Food Syndrome"
Once a friend pointed out to me, that a large number of people were buying food from the Chinese counter in the canteen. Well, he made this observation after he saw a plate of fried rice in my hand. So what is it that influences, very subtly, the choices of hungry students?
The answer is two fold.
Firstly, Chinese food tastes awesome at any time of the day, particularly in the morning when it's hot and fresh and the you get a chance to choose the best lollypops. And;
Secondly, which is a more scientific explanation, is that it's worth the 30 bucks you pay. Wait, that's not scientific, it's more economics...anyway. There is a sense of conformity as people want to stick to the tried and tested formulas (in this case, recipes), and also, they wish to try out the new dishes that the Chinese counter has to offer. Momos (which were a total failure), spring-rolls, prawns etc, there's always something new apart form the tried and tested. This is a perfect example of the normative ie in case of tried and tested stuff, as well as the informational ie in case of the new stuff everyone seems to be trying out.

Experiment Two: "The Chicken & Cheese Frankie Syndrome"
Situated right next to the Chinese counter is the Frankie counter. Well, Tibbs Frankies are still among the best I've had, but these ones come really close, with special credit to the Xavier's Press' article on the Chicken & Cheese frankie.
An article in the newsletter was a survey about the most popular food in the canteen. And the verdict clearly favoured the awesomely delicious frankie. Well, we all know how surveys are conducted, but in this case, the credibility (of the frankie, not the survey) was beyond questioning. And so, naturally, people flocked to the counter to fill their stomachs with the 'supposedly' (but, I do agree to it 99.5%) most popular item in the college canteen. So much so that, I'm thinking of telling the Tibbs kiosk at VT to introduce the 'chicken & cheese frankie'. (What? I get hungry on my way back home!)

It has been very difficult for me to fully understand the finer aspects of this experiment. And as it is with all rules, even this one has exceptions. That I shall deal with in the next part.
Until then, do try out the chicken & cheese frankie; and if you're vegetarian, there's always the Chinese counter, and maybe, they'll introduce something vegetarian in the next couple of days...!

Blabber, jabber and all that (don't?) matter

Conversations can be fun.
Especially when you, and the person you're conversing with have no clue where it's going. Now, some people like serious, meaningful conversations (I do, at times...ok, most of the times!) but, at times you need your dose of nonsensical indulgences; idiotic, absurd, weird, and down right hilarious!

Life can be dull, boring, and um, duller and more boring, especially when you're in lectures. To top 'em all, we have something called as Foundation Course and Communication Skills.
Some mentally twisted & positively sadistic do-gooder (Xavierites know whom I speak of) came up with the idea that the "youth" (read you and I, and all the junkies in the foyer) need to be equipped with an education to deal with the future; of the world, planet and humanity (um, they didn't mention that in the Prospectus, but I'm sure it was on their agenda).

Sure thing, if you've screwed up the planet this bad, and know you're not gonna see the end of it, shove the responsibility on us...and, with the prospect of inheriting a broken planet, is there really anything we could do but try and fix it. I mean, it is our planet, right?

So, one day, in an FC lecture, we were asked to talk about 'values'. Me and my friend, Manas, went up to the board and started:
Me: well, um, to start with, most of the points we wanted to mention have already been mentioned. (Manas writes on the board- 'already been mentioned')
Me: so, values are important. (Manas writes, 'are important') um, I mean they are, or why else would we be studying about them and talking about it? Secondly, they are, um essential (Manas looks at me, then writes 'essential', class laughs) But, this is different from important!
Me: next, values are necessary
Manas: (whispering) what are you doing?! (writes 'are necessary')
Me: I mean, look at our world, it's in such a mess 'cause people don' think values are necessary...and lastly, examples of values are, um, honesty, punctuality, and equality(?)...
(Manas writes that, we do a knuckle-bump and walk back)

Next instance is a CSK class. we've been told to analyse a poem. of course, I slept through the recitation, and when the prof started asking questions, this is what happened:
Prof: what is the importance of 'seven', or why does the poet emphasize 'seven'?
Me: (murmuring) 'cause seven ate nine...!
Prof: (she didn't hear that!) so, Proshant, what do you think about it?
Me: um, ma'am, the imagery is touching...you know, it works, you can imagine a flower blooming, beautiful...
Prof: but, the flower is a metaphor of the sun, isn't it?
Me: yes..! I mean, of course, but the imagery is so good, that it's so real, and touching...!
The bell rang then, and well, what more can I say other than the cliche:
"saved by the bell"..!

Devotion

"It is an act of tender love and kindness, and not one of pain, that moves a cynic to tears."

Today, I was moved to tears.
It doesn't happen to me that often, and I confess, I do subscribe to the notion of 'boys don't cry'.
But today, I was moved to tears. You might ask why? what? how? I shall answer precisely those.

Nearly a hundred years ago, a woman was born in Albania, a land which after some years was torn apart by violence and ethnic conflict. The situation was grim world over; two great wars, poverty, people dying hungry, diseased, as social outcasts.
But through those very dark times, this person chose to embrace a path of love, devotion, and service to mankind. We know her today as Mother Teresa.
I'm not gonna go into details about her life, I leave that for you to discover. How? I shall tell you that soon.
What I am going to say is that how, in just a brief twenty minute walk through an exhibition, held currently at VT Station, I came to suddenly admire this person in ways I never have.
I remember my mother telling me, how her mother used to tell her about when she first came to hear of Mother Teresa. My grandmother chronicled her school days when the news of a nun serving the dying and diseased caught the world's attention. India at that time had just achieved independence, and the leaders of West Bengal, in particular, did not want their state to be portrayed as a hell hole filled with the rejects of the world. They tried creating problems, as politicians always do. But Mother Teresa was resolute. Through her selfless service, and I use the term 'selfless' in every sense of it, she gave a moment of dignity to the dying. Orphans, lepers, poor, everyone, is entitled to a right to peace and dignity in death. Mother Teresa ensured that. And she set out to make this world a better place. And she has.

My grandfather had an opportunity to meet her once when he was on his way to India. He knelt by her and asked for her blessings. Even today, as he recounts that incident, my hair stands on end, and my eyes get wet. 

Today, those twenty minutes in the 'Mother Teresa Express' were unlike any in my entire life. There was a force at work there, a spirit with the sheer power of its purity, touched the deepest, darkest corner of my heart.

We might not be fully aware of what her legacy is, but with the help of media, we just might be able to understand it. But to experience it, we must walk on the path she laid for humanity.
Love, peace, sacrifice and an unending devotion to humanity, this planet and all those who need our help.

This is the legacy of Mother Teresa, and this is what moved me to tears...

"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean; I think the ocean would be less because of that missing drop."

-Mother Teresa.

The Mother Teresa Express is on display on Platform 13, at CST, on December 8th and 9th.  

'M'

The mindless monogamy

of the Master and his Wife,

shall cease to be

when he’s seduced by a temptress,

so wily and so dangerous;

melting his moralistic masquerade,

and filling it with malicious intent,

vicious and lethal.

The marrow of marriage

is stolen by the marauder, who,

with murderous intent,

sought to molest a woman’s modesty.

And the masque called society,

with it’s montages of mediocrity,  

consoles her with a mawkish glance,

while exalting Man-the predator. 

Will, then, this mendacious memento

of a meaningless matrimony,

mar, muzzle and massacre

the reason of life, the voice of love?

No!

Justice, from this moment,

will ne’er be again merciful.

It will be swift;

ceasing to meander, seeking to punish

the malevolent misconduct

of the misguided monsieur.

While the mangled remains

of the misconduct of manhood

lie merely as an example

to deter those seeking to make

a malicious mistake…

…be warned,

for the mask of unfaithfulness

will cause only mayhem,

and consequences, violent and macabre.

"Hey"

I’m looking for words in my mind

to tell you the truth,

but I just can’t find a way…

…to say that I’m really sorry,

for causing so much worry,

so, please stay.

It’s not a plea for redemption,

not a lie, nor a deception;

it’s not a game I play…

…though from the outside I may be bad,

I want you to know, I’m not like that;

so, I pray.

All the things that I did for you,

heart in hearts, I know they’re true.

And, they won’t fade away…

Before you walk away,

let me pour my heart out,

and I never did doubt

the faith you had in me.

With every step, leaving the past behind,

moving ahead, it’s your time to shine…

And, I’ll be there, if you ever need me,

all you have to do is just say, ‘hey…’

This post is dedicated to a friend I set out to help; 

and I dunno how much of a help I was,

 but I did learn a great deal about life in the process...

The Pilgrim

Through the wind-swept plains,

through the infested jungle rains,

he made his way.

Through the passes so treacherous,

through the vales, dark and dangerous,

he made his way.

A matter of faith,

of devotion and pride;

with every mile he walked,

relentless was his stride.

Nothing but a sack on his shoulder,

a cloak when the air got colder.

A weather beaten stick-

his only companion;

just on soft earth and grass he lay,

under the mighty banyan.

He starved for days untold,

everyday, a new path unfolds.

A thousands steps of stone he climbed,

in holy rivers he bathed.

On the shores of the sea, he stood

watching the days of his youth fade.

The Pilgrim now lives away from this world,

where, to the devoted,

he preaches the holy word.

Wisdom he gained through perseverance.

The virtue of life, he taught,

lies not in mere existence.

Journeying lands, rivers, valleys and seas,

for months at end;

I am humbled before this sage.

With the word of wisdom in my heart,

I am exalted,

for I have now ended my pilgrimage…