Words strung together

"I sometimes feel like a spectator in my own life. One whose cries would be missed if not there - but whose fading voice hardly influences the run of things. Its as if I have become entangled in the clockwork of a myriad of things that encircle my life - chiming when they want me to and ticking along at other times. It seems so difficult to break free of the old habit of quiet acceptance - which hastily surfaces to drown the instinct that threatens to create a ripple in the placid surface." - Not entirely representative of my life at all times, some words I put there because I felt they stood up and begged me to place them there.

Thoughts penned down at office

While walking back to my seat after lunch - the tree lined avenue of Passeig de Gracia bedecked at frequent intervals by architectural marvels like Gaudi's masterpieces flash through my mind. The sensation is so strong that for a while I could feel the powerful curtains of the unbroken silence - that used to prevail there- descend upon me. And with this comes a desparate longing to see again with my own eyes and hear again with my own ears the city which my memories keep reminding me about.

Strife

Happiness which the eyes don't share
Cool river water with a hint of salt
A distracted mind with an uneasy itch
Decisions discoloured by doubt
As a shadow of temporary permanence
Renders a dull shade to the colours around me

Gasping as a drowning man in absence of light
With slow shivering steps as I climb my mountain
(Journeying towards the peak and the sun's rays beyond)
The thought often occur to me
To strike off what is unconquered
And delay not the comfort the light has to offer

Ruminations in Barcelona

I recently discovered a notebook which I had with me during the time I was in Barcelona last year. It contains a mix of scribbles - some related to the work I had there and some thoughts that occurred to me while I was there. I have put two such writings..

Do I get overwhelmed easily ? And is it always the wrong thing ? But why do I care anymore about whats wrong or right ? Is there any wrong or right really ? Or are they just choosing one among 2 diverging roads.

But the aim is not to get philosophical - the aim is to put on paper - all the experiences that have happened to me during my stay in Barcelona - and how they have enriched me.

It is probably difficult to separate Barcelona from CS ( a beautiful project with a wonderful concept cutting across all parts of the globe). The people I have met here are essentially because of this amazing project.

But I'd still give a lot of credit to Barcelona. Its so different and it has something for everybody. In fact it offers an opportunity to explore all the varied avenues that we might have. From being a favourite party spot to Gaudi (an architect of considerable renown) and his brilliance - to Picasso - to Barca - to the beach - to Barri Gothic and its small confusing alleyways - to the profusion of bars of different variety which are stepped in old world charm and culture - not to forget the broad tree lined avenues and the ubiquitous roller skater or skate boarder.

People out here are blessed with the opportunity to pursue what they want - from intellectual pursuits,......

(The thoughts which were being jotted down while sitting on one of the benches in a tree lined avenue got interrupted when a minor accident took place on the road between a car and a motorcycle)


How broad minded are people really ? Do we really try and define these things - or is it that they tend to have a deeper meaning the more we are exposed to situations that can be classified as putting them under a test.

Maybe its so easy to talk and agree and be enthusiastic about certain things, situations and people in general - but its after you have expressed there emotions - that you feel the need to get back to your sheltered alcove.

So the real test, the real learning is when you have to lose yourself all the time, immerse yourself in living the kind of life you support or advocate.

Maybe I am digressing. This is about me and how I have started to view people who are in the same situation I was a couple of years back when I was traveling through Europe in a different way - from high up my perch as if.Have I become too consumed by the external layers of garments that people tend to wear on them.

How important are the things to me - that make me uncomfortable in her company - when otherwise we can really talk our hearts out.

Have I looked in the mirror lately ? Like looked really deep and stripped myself of all the trappings - to think about the person I have actually become.

Life has given me a lot of blessing of late. Of course I had to overcome my initial inhibitions before I could - so call "win" them. And yet I have not been doing my bit to keep them with me - by my side. I get distracted so easily - that the things which are actually dear to me, which I should nurture - I forget about them.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona and some more of Barcelona

Watching the movie Vicky Cristina Barcelona felt like a wave of calm soothing water wash over all my distress and anxiety. I chanced upon the movie in the video parlour and the thought of seeing a few glimpses of that memorable city was enough to make me pick it up.

And frankly I wasn't disappointed by my impulse decision. The movie cutting across two Spanish cities captures the essence and spirit of the their life very well. It creates an imagery of the laid back Spanish life that is so real - one can almost touch it.

While the story revolves around a sense of discovering oneself, of fulfillment, of carefree abandon, of love and lust - the backdrop is replete with images of the ecstasy derived out of art, the love of wine and the Spanish guitar and the good living that so much form a part of the life of the Spanish people - and which creates the atmosphere for the protagonists to wander fearless into territories uncharted by their society and its popular held notions.

This is the second movie I saw, the first one being L'auberge espagnole, which talks about the city of Barcelona making a lasting impact on the lives of people who live there for some time. I couldn't agree more having emerged much more surer and aware of myself after having spent a small part of my life there.

But I got so caught up talking about Barcelona that I completely left out in the cold the thought I had started with. Immersed as most of us are by our work - yet for me I have never felt that the work is a part of me - it always feels like I am swimming against a strong current as opposed to floating in a peaceful stream. I think any thoughts, any memories and any imaginations that we have about this calm, serene water transports us to a place where our mind, our heart and our conscious can't follow with its tough, unanswerable questions.

With the "Room with a View" as trigger

The first few moments after one puts down a book - are really wonderful. It is then that in the space of a few moments one concisely understands and appreciates the sum total of the author's philosophy and message - that he has perceived. A thought occured to me while I endeavored to document the same - after having finished, nay expreienced, "A Room with a View" - it would be such a wonderful practice to preserve these thoughts after finishing every book - at least every book that leads us to spend a raptured few moments in awe of all the book represents to us.

As I write this - another thought flashes to my mind. Would it not be so much nicer if we are able to write down our adventures and exploits of life everyday, to chronicle it, so that as we flip through the past, it might often offer us clues to things that have us "muddled up" - because as written by the very great E.M Forster "Life is easy to chronicle but bewildering to practice".

Lest we stray - back to the book and our thoughts on the same. While reading it I came across a few pithy phrases - which at first instinct I was tempted to forget and read on - but when I spent some thought and time turning it around it yielded a lot of meaning. One such phrase that has stuck to my mind is "Both youth and love matter intellectually"

But what is the centre point of Forster's novel ? That there is glory in truth ? In today's world when you are bombarded by messages to the contrary - this statement needs some more thought. Or can we say that there is glory in truth - because in accepting that, we are being truthful to ourselves - allowing the parched lips of our soul to experience the feel of the cool waters of the oasis.

It sometimes gets so difficult to even be aware of what we truly want or feel - covered as it remains over the many layers of self deceit, indolence and convenience with which we face the world at large - and are actually appreciated for doing just that - the tinkling of the high necked wine glasses raised in toast of this continued deception so often comfort us.

But what does Forster talk about ? he talks about the protagonist Lucy who having glimpsed at what lies at the depths of heart still chooses to ignore it. She chooses to escape from it into the arms of solitary numbness rather than rebuilt her entire life. Rather than go and proclaim to the world and more important her loved ones, that till now all the choices she had made were wrong, that all along she had not been following her true desire but was guided by much more convenient socially acceptable choices that floated on top of the ocean of her sometimes "muddled" sometimes resigned and often uncomprehending mind.

Another interesting point that Forster makes about musicians really drew my interest. He says that if musicians were able to in real life talk, behave and analyse matters with the same wiseness and feeling with which they journey through their notes and tones - then it would be as enthralling to talk to them as it is to experience their performance. At the same time with the maturing of Lucy he shows her able to nit just render the music flawlessly but also imbue it with a character and thought of the composer that has seeped into it.

A different world

The melody of the falling rain
Its chatter and its pitter patter
And its soft murmur with the verdant surrounding
Drowns out all that we see
Closes the windows to the world around
Yet opens our eyes to a new world
Which our memory constructs with a free reign

The rains let up, a hush follows
And oh so soft a silence befalls our ears
A bliss one experiences
Like the just satiated weary Saharan nomad

The drops of water clinging to the rails
Shaking and trembling and about to relent
To the ever so immutable laws of gravity
So does our imaginary world dissolve away
As the sky clears up and the sun shines through

But it leaves behind impressions
Deep and indelible
Like footprints on wet soil
And acts as a balm to my soul
Replenishing all that’s expended
In the wear and tear of the daily grind

Life. A bird’s eye view

The higher you want to climb
The more you miss whats behind
The man in the elevated position
With misty eyes looks upon the city
And the envious city stares back
Turning its back in mad fury
Only to let time play its cruel trick
And make it yearn for all it would leave behind.


A cycle is it all that it is
A mere extended version of what we studied
About the restless atoms and their bouncing back and forth
A quest for meaningless existence
Pleasure to be derived from the motion
And reason there be none at all.


O life and its miserable ways
To squeeze the life out of him
That departs on an honest search
Only to bedeck the misguided sails
With luxuriant fulfilling mirages

The time flies by

Like a river it flows
Rapidly overt the joyous experiences
When life offers no hindrances
And even our ill conceived schemes fall in place
When around every corner we encounter serendipity
Those moments of ecstasy
Those feelings of exhilaration
Melt away so quickly into the disappearing horizon
Yet slothful; it becomes- almost to a stand still
When the days are painful and the hours so long
As it labours over the rocks, boulders and thorns
And slinkingly forces itself by the dregs and shallows of human doing
Yet flow it must as inexorably as the world must go round
And the time flows by by and bye

The buoy

Astray she slides away
Away from the familiar coastline
And into the welcoming arms
Of the distant blue horizon

The currents of insults, injuries and slights
Having weakened the anchors of her world
Goes she to the unbounded unknown
In search of new pains

With slow heaving motion
And her back towards her ties
She begins her lonely search
For new bountiful shores

Resolved though she is
To wither away in obscurity
But never to tread those waters
That she's leaving behind in her wake

Prime of life

O to fly like the bird
Feel the free wind in my face
To escape the clutches of routine
To experience the unique pleasures
How I wish I could
Make best of my prime of life

To stop the compromise at every step
And finish the search for my flame
Who would fuel me to distant shores
To explore and experience
My heart’s desires
To excite the brain
To live a free life
And to be able to live it
How I wish I could
Make best of my prime of life