The Characters.

Dark! Her eternal mate... it has to be.  That radiance of day makes her eyes squint, weakens her knees, mirrors her helplessness and all the more reflects that dark time of the bright day which was now eloped with the past.

Night, though chill, was soothing to her soul. She would build the mountains of dreams whole night knowing that they would be thwarted by the dawn. No Regrets. These moments are mine.

She was nine when those events came over as flashes and defeated her innocence, transforming her into something completely new she never liked. Whatever I was, I was happy. Unaware of the reality. Those were the days of my life.

As soon as her school would announce the halt, she would gush out the entrance  with the spurting stream of kids. She never liked those moron teachers. The savages! But she loved this part of coming home, swinging, jumping, hurling stones at the sleeping dogs through the way. You cowards! , she would chuckle at her mates. Look at you! You are trembling .you will have a heart attack the moment the dog will look at you.

Like an unprecedented victory, she would burst the door open and scream, “Ammmiiii! did you make that Halwa for me I told you the  morning?’’

‘’ Yell at your Abba and Ask him to bring enough sugar so that I can feed you your delicacies without leaving a day. He is growing lazier every day.’’

‘’ Why? What would you do with your belly growing like a football, why can’t you go outside and bring it yourself’’, She squalled with higher pitch this time.

‘’Hehe !, you were also like a football inside me before you came to this world. Now you are a little monster. I fear he will be like you pestering me.’’

What a Character My Mother is!

She would hide her widening grin and rush to the mirror and stare at her silhouette for hours. My brother! Like me. Halwa would now seem to disappear behind the mirror and in the thoughts of that tiny Character.

The days were flourishing, fraternity booming, until the day came.

Her father hurried to the door. ‘’They are coming. Hindus! They will kill you both. I am going outside to fight for the Muslims and locking the door from outside. Don’t let any voice go out of this door.’’

‘’Nooo.. Pleaseeee stay with us. Let them come. We will die together..listen...’’

Her mother’s voice vaporised in the polluted air outside filled with shrill cries as she heard the door locked in a flash.

It was an instant later that she realised how frail that door was, when a mob of giant figures appeared in the room smashing it to the pieces. One of the giants dragged to her, grabbed her tiny shoulders as her mother shrieked to the trembling of walls. ‘’leave her, leave my daughter pleasssseee. She is hinduu!!  I have adopted her from the Rupram Asharam. I swear to my Allahh. Pleassssee.’’

The giant ‘s sceptical eyes  looked into hers, his greed and thirst ,hot blood  pouring out of them with the surge of anger. She was no behind. She, like a fortress, gazed back at those fiery eyes. He threw her to the floor and ranged towards her mother. Her mother cried,’’ Run my Noor, tell each of them that you are a Hindu. Tell them without fear. They will save you. Runnn!! ‘’

She protested like she always had. Whyyyy!  She kept her legs frozen until her mother’s piercing voice deafened her ears. She ran outside, leaned behind the door to hear those voices. Devils. Those wild Characters!  She could hear them all along with her mother. Her mother cried to the hell until a sound came .. familiar to her.. like a sword being stabbed into a football. That sound was not loud at all, but it made her deafened, her eyes blind, her legs numb. She hated the silhouette of her shadow in that light. All of a sudden,She collapsed to the floor in the darkness.

Lying in the dark, she had shaken that bed with the thought. The scenes were as vivid as they have been always in her mind, at the front. Four years now. I am 13 years old . Alive. Being saved by a Hindu. How long shall these moments remain young, alive in my mind, killing me everyday?

As she was groping her thoughts in the blindness, she heard the rumbling of steps coming to the room. She jolted up in the bed upright.

‘’What?  What are you doing awake this late dear?’’

‘’I wanted to tell you something for long.’’

‘’Yes?’’, the voice seemed concerned.

‘’ It haunts me every night that you saved me because you thought I was a Hindu. No, I am a Muslim!’’, She confessed.

She gazed back at those eyes like a fortress, looking for hot blood pouring out, a thirst, finding those wild Characters. But the eyes remained calm, staring in hers, studying them until water filled those eyes making them wet. He clasped her into his arms and brought her head to his chest. ‘’ You are not a Muslim or Hindu. You are my daughter, my blood!!’’ A fury shuddered through his body like a storm had been called upon again and he shut his eyes tightly to suppress it down, deep within, never to unveil it further. A daughter whom he had lost four years ago was visible to him now. Those vulnerable eyes, that fear of getting raped and killed.

She released herself into his arms, burst into tears and let herself flow with them. She no longer wanted to wonder how this world was filled with varied Characters. Caring, pure like Moon and Stars, Innocent like unborn babies, and Wild, Brutal like beasts!  She wanted to fill her dry eyes, to glow her days again and trust this Character, whoever he was. ‘’ My father!’’, she slid herself into a peaceful sleep.

This Story is inspired by the events happened in Gujarat Riots 2002.

[This post is written for the Contest ‘The Character’ at indiblogger.in and is inspired by the characters on Jacob Hills.]

Something is to be revived!

There was something in that time. Something pure, Something rejuvenating, Something everlasting. Something which has lost, Something which needs to be revived. They poured out their feelings in some words and rhythms which ruled the hearts of Indians for years and will always do. I gathered a few of my favourite classical tracks in my words. Take out some time to listen them once again and get yourself flowing in the exquisite romanticism.

Song : Aapki nazron ne samjha pyar k kaabil mujhe.

Movie :Anpadh(1962)

Singer:Lata Mangeshkar

Your sight perceived me deserving your love.

O heart, stop thy pulsation, I have found my destination.

Yes ! I  bow to your decision,

My lord, gratitude to you every vision conveys,

You embodied me into your life with rejoice.

O heart stop thy pulsation, I have found my destination.

I am the terminus of your journey and mine is you.

Why would I  fear the storms when you are my intimate,

Someone tell these storms that I have found my Soul mate.

O heart stop thy pulsation, I have found my destination.

My heart has got the glimpses of your shadow

And everywhere around, music sounds out of hundred of reeds,

Because I  have achieved the pleasures of two universes.

O heart stop thy pulsation, I have found my destination.

Song :-  Jane kahan gaye wo din

Movie : Mera naam Joker ( 1970)

Singer : Mukesh

Where those days have lost with those words,

“ I would lay my eyes in your ways,

No matter where you lived, I would  adore you all my life.

I would not be able to forget you!”

Where those days have lost!

Wherever I went, my lover had devoted himself to me,

Now while going away, those springs left me with tears.

Where those days have lost with those words.

Now to my eyes, days seem black dark nights,

Only shadows  have been with me during all my past and present.

Where those days have lost with those words.

 Song : Lag ja gale

Movie: Wo kaun thi( 1964)

Singer: Lata Mangeshkar

Embrace thou to me, for we may not have this beauteous night again ,

Perhaps, In this life we may not meet again.

Today our fates have earned these moments,

Behold me closely up to your fulfilment

For your fortune may not have this sight again,

Perhaps, In this life we may not meet again.

Move close to me as I am not going to come evermore,

Holding arms of each other let’s cry and shed our tears.

For  this rain of love from our eyes  may not fall again,

Perhaps, In this life we may not meet again.

Embrace thou to me, for we may not have this beauteous night again,                   

Perhaps, In this life we may not meet again

Song : Ek pyar ka nagma h

Movie: Shor( 1972)

Singer: Lata Mangeshkar , Mukesh

It’s a song of love, flow of joy.

Life is nothing else but a tale of you and me.

There is something to lose on achieving anything and something to achieve on losing.

Life is all about arrival and departure.

From the life of few moments, we have to steal an age.

Life is nothing else but a tale of you and me.

You are the flow of a river and I am your shore.

You are my resort and I am yours.

There is a sea in our eyes having the water of hopes.

Life is nothing else but a tale of you and me.

leave me a comment if you liked......  :)

To you , my mother!

Maa!! It’s really an arduous task to write for you as many poets, writers and artists have already described you in all the possible ways that some well framed sentences originated directly from my heart would be a plagiarism. But I would write! For you have taught me to see the hardness as opportune, for, decades ago, my these words had the origin from you.

When the infancy giggled in me, you had told that long long ago ruled a Mighty King and he rescued the superfluously beautiful queen from the black demons. I wondered at the turtle’s cleverness for winning the race and laughed at the rabbit. I had jumped with joy when that witty topiwala got his caps back from the imitative fool monkeys. I mocked the Lion for jumping into the well to attack his shadow. Poor girl! , I cried when that dirty wolf had eaten your grandma. Every nerve of mine had danced with those rhymes. All the curious, comical questions were being answered.

When I crossed that tiny milestone and stepped into the world of minds, I knew that there was a man named Ghandhi who led the world of his times, struggled and fought to save the humanity in his own terms. My infancy hadn’t let me question and contradict your views. World was beautiful then! When electricity went off and I screamed restlessly, I learnt that how a little boy Abrahim, a farmer’s son, lived and studied in the shine of streetlights and got the way to president of United States. When night rested on our sky, lying beside you under the roof of countless tiny stars and alone yet powerful moon, I appreciated the reality that a sole individual can light the world. When the sun rose to the sky, you were there standing to tell me,” Rise above your horizons until the darkness fades away!”

When puberty nourished, I was been gradually cognized with the pragmatic world in your shadow. I was traumatised for the humanity had changed its definition through time. I had started reckoning the masks on the faces.   As I moved to make my own space, you warned, “Beware! Mankind is not so Kind. You may be mocked, cheated, faked, devastated, looted, raped or even killed by them. Move through the evil groom and shape yours and people’s destiny.” I pretended to be fearless and walked in. Maturity was about to come.

I grew up! My sentiments and intellections had taken their shape. The gap, within us, was now visible to me. Still! You cared and taught. And I negated! As I read through the worldly book and played the game, you yelled, “ Don’t chase the world  and rest to contend, follow your course, follow your dreams!” How the majestic youngness could hear you then?. I looked through my window and heard the sounds of people outside and adjoined my ways with them. It looked a wonderful journey!

When my ways separated again, moving ahead alone, I paused to look back once. You were there looking at me, smiling, in the darkness where no one bothered to be visible, your aura filled the lightness and said, “See! My child, The Sun is rising”.  As I know, when I’ll move to the further stages to find my ways, When the world will show its back and laugh at me, you’ll pour your motherhood and renovate me, I cherished and walked ahead, fearless!!

Kolkata : The city of Joy!

Indeed! The air is flowing outside inheriting in it the dampness as the nature perspires out the sweat. And I amused at my influenced senses for making the music out of it, carving out a lovely portrait on my psychic canvas, igniting the writer in me and reasoning the events around me. Yes! The air has all of them- Music, Art, Literature, and ... The Science!

 No, I don’t belong to here. But I destined to be here for the time is enough for me to grasp the essence, to observe what I always wanted to, in this city of joy! As I walk down the alleys, I see the elevated abodes standing proudly, manifesting the enthralling creativity. I see people, mostly short heighted and dark skinned, smiling , singing ,tattling, working  , smoking  and  walking to their terminus.  From Somewhere distant, beyond the sight, as I recollect the scenes around me, a voice came...

“ Jodi tor dak shune keu na ashe tobe ekla cholo re,

Tobe ekla cholo, ekla cholo , ekla cholo, ekla cholo re....”

If they answer not to thy call walk alone , walk alone!

Scene 1 University of Calcutta, Ballygunge science college...

This place where I was going to expend most of my two months, was one of the prangans (Campuses) of Calcutta university, called Taraknath Siksha Prangan. They say it’s the university established in 1857, the first institution in south Asia as a multidisciplinary and secular western style university. “Time is powerful”, I thought as the sight of that 8 floor building cramped my neck. As I entered, all I could see and hear was ‘ bengali’.  Posters, neatly drawn sketches of some renowned individuals, quotes, advertisements,were all poured with Bengali. People were all forcing their throat out to many long Bengali sentences in a breath.  Sometimes,I fear the strangeness, sometimes it annoys me and then there are times when I love it, I was different here.

After I met the professor and had the gratification with work, my first day enthusiastic mind quickly got focused to the work, until the inquisitive part of it couldn’t resist for long and I had to bow to it. I headed to the uppermost floor and here was a canteen. For me, Canteen ,which is actually a hall with a cornered  tiny stall  and benches all around, is the best part of this old withered building. I could see almost one fourth part of the city through those big open windows. It drives me to realise the miserable part we as a human contribute to this world. Nonetheless, my eyes can never deny the beauty of the scene outside.

I could feel the trembling floor underneath due to the loud piercing voices of students, arguing (or may be  discussing ) with each other. It seemed a parliament house to me where no one wanted to refrain oneself from speaking and was trying their highest pitch of voice ever in support of their arguments. Supporting this imagination were the numerous posters, with political slogans and citations, hiding all the walls. Of course! They were all in Bengali, Hindi was an alienated language here. Something I was able to read was SFI or TMC. Politics! They have it in their blood. It had its roots here and produced their buds and branches here. The present one is only an old dried out, unproductive tree all over the country and no one bothers to water it. Anyways! I loved the part that some very close friends can be seen here of different parties. At least in the college, this beautiful relationship is being protected from politics, I thought.

 Now let’s have some food talk!

Even though I had always known that they eat rice, bhat and fish in lunch and dinner both, I couldn’t stop myself amazing at their digestion system. It’s impossible at least to me eating 1 kg of rice with eggs at a time. A tough time was waiting for me!  With all the strange names like luuchi  , veg chow    , ...falling onto my ears,  I picked one of them I liked and said confidently, “ I want Lucchi and also chai!.  He, with an obscured face, asked,” Chaaa? 

“ ohh! Only four rupees! Okay!’  Kolkata is really the cheapest place in India, I amazed.  

He asked again irritatingly , “ chaa??” and blabbered something in Bengali. After a few seconds of exchanging blank expressions with him , I realised that they call ‘chaa’ to ‘chaai’. I was the newborn baby in this world who is not even familiar with the accent of those strangers. I strained my eyes to see the people around letting the smoke out of their lungs, even the girls proudly boasting the action. “This state is probably the largest consumer of tea and cigarette” I concluded.

Rushing back to work, I had the fortune to have an eye contact with those comforting determined eyes in a portrait and I smiled and chuckled and hummed,

“Jodi alo na dhore ,ore ore o..ovaga, alo na dhore..

Jodi jhor badole adhar rate, duar dey ghore..

Tobe bojranole...Apon buker pajor jaliye niye,

Ekla jolo re,....”

“ if they do not hold up the light when the night is troubled with storm,

O thou unlucky one,

With the thunder flame of pain ignite thy own heart,

And let it burn alone!”

The Dynamic Inner Me!!!

The far flung Rays of the setting sun were depicting the singularity of the phenomenon. “Perhaps the only Event loath to ever changing dynamism of the world”, I thought.  This Evening was not at all different from the previous ones. What had changed was the Ambience around me, Sentiments that were of my own as of late, Impulses which had driven me up to here and indeed The Inner me. I was alike everyone drifting by the flux of life.

On the course, I was being captive by the moments pertinent to time so much that stories kept taking form somewhere back in my nous. The stories that stroke the chords of present and portrayed it in its own notion. What if I was merely an observer? The course should have been the different one then.

Life is a dream, a Star Gazing indeed.  And I was mistaken perceiving its realness. Like a protagonist in the Tale, I thoroughly embraced its Fictiveness as Realism and acted what was scripted by others. Time moved, I conceived. Nay, time was still, it was me who proceeded here. Like an explorer who left his shack to find the treasures of the world and in the voyage he nullified the real treasures of life for which he had to forgo the virtual treasures he had acquired till then. I was being persuaded. Persuaded by the lullabies of world which induced me for the nap, not for long though!

And now that I am awake I can sense the every mo I respire, is steadily blending with the Past, opening doors for the Time to come. I can feel the changing me. Now I’ll be sitting behind and quietly observe forthwith the good and the bad fortunes life will discover and maneuver the protagonist, theMe, in the Self Scripted Tale.

The sun has not yet set wholly and I have started looking as far as I can, beyond the horizon. Continually attenuating rays are still pretending the dynamism of Time.

But I’ll see the Truth, The Dynamic Me!!!!

A Worthy Flight..

Thou, the wave of reverie in my head,

Take me back in the yard of infancy.

Vistas of those streets have faded away,

Where devils, kings and fairies play.

Where cognizance questions the existence of world,

And incognizant of its human norms.

When flurries had done the treaty with years

To meet on the ripening of fruits ,life bears.

Perhaps ,those kites might still be flying in the sky,

I had allowed them to blend with untrodden heights.

Perhaps ,they have loosen the course , I fear,

 Waiting for me to come up with the nerve to steer.

Take me back in  the yard of infancy, ‘o’ reverie,

For I could play that game again ,

To knit the fabric of dreams so tight

and begin the journey of life in a worthy flight.

And begin the journey of life in a worthy flight.

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY OF MIND

Having insight of the excursion hereafter

I must be geared up for the ruthless storm,

As the slumbering diva is longing to be awake,

To dwell in a terpsichore and amusing warm.

Dawn would drizzle to persuade I know,

Waves would steer the course to sway,

Merely to heed the stillness of the dark

But,intended aurora does not stay.

And how far will she unfold the nightmare ,

In the distant palace amid heavy woods?

I can’t await for the demon to come

And satiate her domain with brutal falsehoods.

 Thou , the diety of immortal divineness

Emanated the irresistible impulse of this voyage.

Also devote thine devotee, the asset of valor

To furbish the covering and halt the ravage.

So that I can adjoin her to the radiant sight,

And take her out to the tiny hole.

But ahead of it, let her visualize the divine

And acknowledge Me, ‘Her Soul’.