Deepu

I don't recall when exactly I saw him, but I do remember that I didn't notice anything 'off' about him until someone pointed it out to me. He was a sweet, caring kid, a little awkward around people and a (what people found strange or weird) way of looking at you with his head bent and a peculiar gaze.

I used to go to his house for keyboard lessons. Although that lasted for about an year, my friendship with him was much longer. His mom was a small lady with a bright face, constantly worried about him. He wasn't a 'normal' kid so she was always in a dilemma about him doing 'normal' stuff. Playing with other kids, going to school with other 'normal' kids... It seemed like everything was a challenge for him.

Somehow from the first glance, he always always trusted me. He told me things he wouldn't tell his family. He liked to be hugged. All it took was a little sensitivity. Don't stare, don't make fun and don't tease. He was always loyal. I remember he picked a fight with another kid who was making fun of me. I was grateful that he wanted to protect me, but I remember talking to him about how he shouldn't hit someone just because they were talking nonsense. I guess he didn't do that after I explained things to him.

And then I moved. I don't know if I still feel guilty about not being there for him, but I do feel I didn't do all I could do after that. I have a way of being detached but deeply involved. Always have been like that. I can go to the extent of giving up my life for someone, but remain detached to them for years on end. I guess it was the same with him. I used to meet him in school, just seeing him getting confident and playing with more kids. But I also noticed he had figured out a way to be popular with kids. How can a kid like that look 'cool' in front of all the 'normal' ones? He does something taboo. I understood why he did what he did, but I guess somewhere I couldn't accept him now. Or was it my guilt? I still don't know. He started cussing, saying things, I'm sure he didn't understand. I remember being disappointed. A sense of anger at the world where a wonderful person like that would turn into this horrible foul-mouthed bully. Just for some sense of being included, to be accepted. Maybe it was the frustration.

I remember the day I found out what he had become. I had gone back to visit friends near the old house we had moved from. He showed up with his bright smile and the warm hug. But what is it I saw in his eyes? Guilt? Remorse? Worry? Then someone told me. 'Do you know what he is up to these days?' and I saw the horror in his eyes when the stories tumbled out. I gave him another hug and asked him not to do it. Gently, without getting angry. It was hard, but I knew I was the only person who still included him the way he was. I didn't want to take that away from him.

I wish there was something I could have told him, maybe a word of assurance, a little guidance? I still think about him on sleepless nights. His angelic, buck-toothed, innocent smile. The way he took care of his little sister, the way he ran to his mother.... Deepu, I hope you found the acceptance you were looking for, and I hope people don't have to lose themselves looking for acceptance.

Yogi

His gaze falls upon me and showers intense grace.

Helplessly I try to avert my eyes.

Invaded, vulnerable, I crack open.

At the clap of His hands, something inside awakens.

My reality collapses into a comic heap and I go where He takes me, Hypnotized.

Saaki sharaab laa ke tabiyat udaas hai...

...as the silken voice of the maestro drifted through the room, he sighed a little. The music felt like it was pulling at his heart strings, like the music was a part of him, like he was the source of it and not some old transistor. He stared into nothingness and tried to blink. Even that seemed like too much trouble. The waiter walked past him with a quizzical look. His drink was on the table untouched. The waiter shook his head. "This one's going to make me wait" he seemed to think as he shook his head and moved on.

It was not the first time in this bar for him. He had been here countless times with friends. Although he was a teetotaler, he liked to tag along. He loved the smell of alcohol. And he loved the company. They always used to joke about his share of the bill always running higher because of how much he ate. He smiled as he remembered the last time he was here. He was forced to pay the bill because nobody else had cash. He didn't complain. "Nice guys finish last" was the only thing he managed to say before the drunk stories took over. He liked the stories. They would start somewhere and end up somewhere totally different. He liked the unpredictability of it all. He wouldn't talk most of the time. "Speaking his words like they were precious gems" like one of his friends said.

He looked at the drink, took it in his hand. He twirled it around to look at the light shining through the glass. "One gulp and it'll all be over" he thought. There was no looking back now. He closed his eyes as he imagined himself downing the whole thing in one gulp. A shatter of glass broke his concentration. He looked at one of the waiters apologising profusely to a patron. The patron didn't seem to mind. "One of those lucky people who never know what it's like to be depressed" he thought ruefully.

He put his glass back on the table and took a sip of water instead. He started laughing at the absurdity of it all. "What was I thinking" he thought even as he put up his hand and asked for the bill. As he looked away from the waiter he saw a familiar smile. He tried to look away quickly, but his hand automatically went up to acknowledge the smile. "Oh great!" he thought as the face floated towards him through the sea of people. He panicked at first and then made up his mind for confrontation. "Go to hell! I don't need you. I can handle this all by myself." his thoughts seemed too rude to have been spoken by him. He grimaced a little and braced himself. The face took a sharp right and disappeared into the crowd. He sighed a sigh of relief and looked at the direction in which the face disappeared. He smiled as he saw the face move towards another unfamiliar one.

He noticed the bill lying on the table. He pulled out a 100 and left the change. His drink sparkled in the dim light, as if mocking him. He smiled and started towards the door. The melody blew over like a gentle breeze. Mehdi Hassan seemed to be singing his mind. "Mere pyaar ko tum mita na sakoge..." He looked up at the sky, the moon seemed bigger then when he had entered. "Shama jo jalayee hai meri wafa ne...Mita na bhi chaho, mita na sakoge..." He took out his mobile and started typing with a content look on his face. "We're no strangers to love...You know the rules and so do I..." he hummed as he walked towards his bike.

Warriors fall

What is it about idealism? It attracts, promises, seduces and makes you follow it. With fanatic zealousness. You are prepared to fight for it, to die for it, to kill for it. It is the single idea that holds scores of people together, and alienates them. It makes them love, makes them hate, makes them think, hope and pray. What is it that makes people close their mind to all but their beliefs.

But still... why is it that like a handful of sand that you have, the harder you try to hold it the more of it that slips out of your hand? Why is it people 'grow' out of their beliefs, and think it's ok to forget their beliefs, to act against them, to stop being idealistic and start being 'practical'?

Maybe it's the demands of the new life you have discovered, maybe it's another ideal which sounds more correct, or maybe you're just bored out of it. You abandon a belief system and label it a mistake of zealousness of youth, change it, call it practical and move on as if nothing's changed. No remorse, no regret, no apologies....

Your ideals lie in the waste bin, to be picked up by the next zealous idiot who is stupid enough.Maybe it's just a bee in my bonnet or the fact that I'm too cynical but people disappoint me. Actually idealistic practical people disappoint me.

The Proposal

The morning dews glitter
With the golden glow of your face
The wind it blows hither
With a placid pace
I bathe in the beauty afraid I'd wither
And before you, a proposal place
The future I hope is not so bitter
and peer the crystal ball with an oracle's gaze



(Cheesy and corny - yes, but original ;-))

Inspired by Harshanna's post: http://mookajjanakanasugalu.blogspot.com/2008/08/bedike.html

And then there were none...

I looked at him with disappointed eyes. He seemed to sense the disappointment. He smiled and said "I am not great." I did not know whether to feel sorry for him or angry at him. Was this the guy I had idolized? The same guy who had the belief that he could bend the world to his will was now crooked himself, with the weight of his responsibilities.

Greatness comes not because of suffering but _in spite_ of it. Every fall I have had has only made me stronger. Every wound has made me a little more aware.

Why do people give up so easily? Why do they have to give up? On their dreams, on their ambitions, on their life? And why do they have to compromise?

You start off thinking you will rule the world one day. That you will make it a better place. That you will not let it's realities change you. And then you start realizing that are not as free as you think you are. You are shackled down. Shackled by the chains of responsibility. Towards your family, towards the people you love, towards the people that have employed you. Then there is always the question of inadequacy. Maybe you can't deal with everything at once. Maybe you aren't as smart or as strong as you had thought you were.

Everybody falls. Gravity spares no one. But you would like to think that people rise. Rise and start walking again. Ignore the pain and look beyond.Make up their mind to finish what they have started. To look up to the sky and believe that they can one day stretch their hand and reach beyond it.

But I can see you have given up. Surrendered to gravity, making no effort to get up. I feel betrayed. I feel disillusioned. I can't see clearly. My vision is blurred. Will this what happen to me? I think. Will I reach out for someone to pull me up from my fall and be left behind, too tired to get up by myself? Will I, with sheer mental effort be able to get up?

Life will resist. It will pull you down. Throw a thousand obstacles your way. Make you want to give up fighting. Makes you want to stop trying to get up.But I refuse to give up. Hope is what shines bright at the other end of the dark tunnel. I still believe I will change the world. I still believe I will leave it a better place. I still believe I can help people who deserve. I still believe I can make a difference. I WILL NOT GIVE UP this easy.

I will be patient and wait for the right time. I will constantly strive to move up to a position which gives me the right view and the reach from which I can change, appeal for change and demand change from the people I can reach out to. I have no dreams of changing the world overnight. But I can make an effort, reach out and give a chance to the world. Because it deserves it.

And finally I will have no more idols. Because idols are not gods, they are human beings. They can never be perfect and I will stop expecting them to be.I will revel in their imperfection and leverage on it. I will make imperfection my strength and my will my weapon. And one day, I shall make a difference. It might be the tiniest of changes but a change it will be. And that day, will my soul rest in peace, in harmony with the world that had sustained me.

Finally! It happened!

My blog has an international audience! Wooohooo! I met sheila from Ghana today... Who wanted to be my friend! I am so thankful for the internet! Hey sheila this post is dedicated to you!

[And if this was someone playing a prank on me.. Well I guess I just have to wait for some more time to go international :P]