There is a request from the person who runs the company Intranet to write a little something about myself and send it on for inclusion. It feels a little like being tagged in the blogosphere and for once I am not too keen on defining myself. I feel like I have been doing exactly that for so long, screaming out who I am and now I am hoarse, I want to stop trying to tell people who I am (then again just because I want to stop, doesn’t mean I really will, even the rest of this post is an indication of my fight with myself!)
The strange thing is that I probably have a blog because I have no qualms when it comes to talking about myself. I have no idea what compels me to do it but I do keep coming back and broadcasting for the world my latest thoughts, reflections, insights, such as they are. Even at this particular moment in time, no reason to write what I am writing but I am doing it anyway, doing it as I think of these lines from an old Talat song:
Tu aa ke mujhe pehchaan zaraa
The lines mean: Come, get to know me better. Talat sang that line with such a note of insistence and as the scene was enacted on film, it showed Nargis rising from her seat and being drawn towards Raj Kapoor, who was singing the song in the film, all set to do as she was told and to get to know him better, as the line demanded.
Is this what some bloggers hope to do as well? Find echoes, seek resonance and find someone who would be keen on getting to know them better? Why is it so important for some of us to find someone to get to know us better? Does it validate our existence? No two individuals are exactly alike, not even identical twins, and yet we seek people who are like us, who respond similarly, think alike, the search never ends.
For instance, even the song mentioned above is unknown to most people I know, much to my genuine chagrin, because if they don’t know it I can’t discuss it with them! It is a famous song and many people from my parents’ generation know it well, Talat fans would know it, connoisseurs of old Hindi cinemas may know it, but as it turns out, I am the only one in my circles who has any familiarity with it.
I often think of old songs, old lyrics, I like seeing how the music wrapped itself around the lyrics, how beautifully the song was rendered and then I like talking about it. Needless to say, I don’t find too many people who also like indulging in this rather meaningless, rather inane pastime, but I’ve found a few, and whenever I have, I couldn’t help feeling oddly pleased, even thrilled at the meeting of minds in this manner. Don’t know why, really a rather strange thing!
Such a discovery isn’t “important”, doesn’t change the course of my life, it doesn’t affect any outcomes. Heck! It probably even makes me look like an incredibly boring person to some others. Whatever it is, it is a part of me and when I see that there is someone out there who is also incredibly drawn to Hindi film music from the 1940s, 50s and 60s just like I am, it just feels good, somehow, to connect - tu aa ke mujhe pehchaan zara…
It feels rather shameful to admit to this reason for blogging, to come to a realization that it is a calling out of sorts, “Hey there, this is me! Are you like me? Let’s talk.” So what if there are others out there like me, what next? A few moments of shooting the breeze and asking each other, “Hey, heard this one? Know that one?”
What next? Even a meeting of minds loses its novelty in a very short frame of time.
A writer who posts as Seekersought on the Shakespeare & Company Network of Writers said something in one of her posts that got to me:
“I learnt it is important not to bracket one’s life within assertions (I am bohemian/ My family needs me/ I don’t do poetry…)”
The lesson learnt is quite the testament to her evolving maturity. It seems important to be able to get away from the temptation to bracket our lives within assertions that define us and brand us. It seems important not to want to call out for resonance, understanding, to not seek echoes, to stop screaming out to the world that which we think defines us. It seems important and idealistic, verging toward enlightenment and, as such, quite an impossibility.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Good Providence: An Agnostic's Tribute
Providence: The care, guardianship, and control exercised by a deity; divine direction
Human fortunes notably run in cycles, a glut of good fortune followed by a patch of bad. If we've lived long enough to cultivate a panoramic view or prescience, it is only natural to expect the sinusoidal nature of our fortunes.
The next peak or the next trough will always come, there can never be any doubt about it. We accept that we're born and we die; we know we work within those two bookends, but we refuse to acknowledge as an irrefutable fact that our fortunes are cyclical. We try countering the cyclicality with superstitions that suggest that it's never a good idea to bask under a smiling sun of good providence. Doing so, most of us believe, signals our complacence, or hints at hubris; somehow tempting the fates to take it all away from us.
I have also been afraid of jinxing my very extended run of luck. A glance back at the life, that has preceded every moment before this one, is a trip down a memory lane lined with fragrant meadows, green pastures and gentle winds; classically bucolic. I don't recall any unpleasant speed bumps or potholes or confusing forks in the road on the paths I have already treaded.
The fact that I am aware how grief feels, or how sadness can cast a grey shroud over everything, or the taste of salty tears, or the shudder brought on by fear or apprehension, shows that I have lived and have been sentient enough to recognize these troughs. However, the bigger picture, the aerial view of the time that's passed shows serenity, peace and gentleness; as if the rest was too insignificant to register or leave any lasting impressions.
If there is a higher power, a guardian, then I thank her (wonder why I feel the power is feminine!) for the blessings she has bestowed. In moments such as this I feel very much like her spoilt and bratty child; like a child who is constantly testing her limits, a child who loves upsetting the proverbial applecart just to observe the tumbling apples and the frown on the face of the owner of said applecart. I thank her for her indulgence, for her infinite patience in allowing me to learn from my mistakes rather than punishing me with consequences that could certainly shorten the frequency of occurrence of the sinusoidal troughs.
I am human and come with guaranteed frailties, so I know I will continue to do what I do best till the day I die, that is: be human.
But I want to acknowledge, with grace, the good providence that enables me to live my life in relative serenity.
Human fortunes notably run in cycles, a glut of good fortune followed by a patch of bad. If we've lived long enough to cultivate a panoramic view or prescience, it is only natural to expect the sinusoidal nature of our fortunes.
The next peak or the next trough will always come, there can never be any doubt about it. We accept that we're born and we die; we know we work within those two bookends, but we refuse to acknowledge as an irrefutable fact that our fortunes are cyclical. We try countering the cyclicality with superstitions that suggest that it's never a good idea to bask under a smiling sun of good providence. Doing so, most of us believe, signals our complacence, or hints at hubris; somehow tempting the fates to take it all away from us.
I have also been afraid of jinxing my very extended run of luck. A glance back at the life, that has preceded every moment before this one, is a trip down a memory lane lined with fragrant meadows, green pastures and gentle winds; classically bucolic. I don't recall any unpleasant speed bumps or potholes or confusing forks in the road on the paths I have already treaded.
The fact that I am aware how grief feels, or how sadness can cast a grey shroud over everything, or the taste of salty tears, or the shudder brought on by fear or apprehension, shows that I have lived and have been sentient enough to recognize these troughs. However, the bigger picture, the aerial view of the time that's passed shows serenity, peace and gentleness; as if the rest was too insignificant to register or leave any lasting impressions.
If there is a higher power, a guardian, then I thank her (wonder why I feel the power is feminine!) for the blessings she has bestowed. In moments such as this I feel very much like her spoilt and bratty child; like a child who is constantly testing her limits, a child who loves upsetting the proverbial applecart just to observe the tumbling apples and the frown on the face of the owner of said applecart. I thank her for her indulgence, for her infinite patience in allowing me to learn from my mistakes rather than punishing me with consequences that could certainly shorten the frequency of occurrence of the sinusoidal troughs.
I am human and come with guaranteed frailties, so I know I will continue to do what I do best till the day I die, that is: be human.
But I want to acknowledge, with grace, the good providence that enables me to live my life in relative serenity.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Smiling Sun?
It is amazing for me to see how many people type in the words "smiling sun" in their search engines and arrive at this blog! I suppose the smiling sun traffic will double, triple or quadruple now that I have those words in the title itself.
My post about smiling suns was a short and impromptu one when I was thinking about my daughter and her drawings; our rapidly growing collection of refrigerator art.
I am sure no one is seeking out that post for re-reading so that leaves me with the mystery of what it is that people really hope to find on the Internet when they key in the words "smiling sun"? Very intriguing.
Another intriguing question that brings them here is a quest for what to put on ones head during an epiphany! I wish I knew and sorry to disappoint you folks, I have no idea! I generally leave my forehead unanointed when I have one.
My post about smiling suns was a short and impromptu one when I was thinking about my daughter and her drawings; our rapidly growing collection of refrigerator art.
I am sure no one is seeking out that post for re-reading so that leaves me with the mystery of what it is that people really hope to find on the Internet when they key in the words "smiling sun"? Very intriguing.
Another intriguing question that brings them here is a quest for what to put on ones head during an epiphany! I wish I knew and sorry to disappoint you folks, I have no idea! I generally leave my forehead unanointed when I have one.