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I am the King and the Queen,
Of my subtracted world,
From my bedroom to where my smartphone takes me,
It’s shinning and laughing with glee.
Walking on the road, I hit a plastic bottle
‘High Score!’ cried my smartphone, when a little
Skinny girl pulled my sweater
Dirty hands open up… there was a letter
Crumpled, old and torn…ah, useless
I thought, but still checked it, to find two words
– Remember Addition?
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Sitting in a theatre hall, watching a film, in light and darkness, in the noisy quietness, I realised how fast everything is moving and how static I am, busy running in my mind, alone.
The image of the yellow flower, growing peacefully in the sunlight is still fresh and I too can feel the warmth. I am running madly and my friends are running behind me, we are happy, and finishing the game means everything to us. There is a rush to catch and not to get caught.
After school hours, it wasn’t a routine to play on the way home, it was us, we were simply playing. I was fast but so were the others, with school bags on our back, we didn’t care of the world around us, we bumped into it passionately and made it alive. The lost adults often said, ‘You kids!’ and we replied with a ‘Sorry Uncle’ and a pure laugh.
The image fades away and suddenly I am walking all alone in the park. It is a rose garden but everywhere I see, the roses are pruned, they look like humans who know how to grow better, but not how to live. Wild roses are happier.
The protagonist is running wildly, furiously, shouting to express his anger…. When did I last run like him, wildly, shouting to express my anger, my happiness? Just before I was pruned, I guess.
Soon I’ll be forced out of this strange meditation class, soon the film will get over. The lights in the theatre hall will make me blind. But before that happens, let me take one last plunge, in that same memory that doesn’t leave me, of that yellow flower.
I walk passed it and then came back, I sat next to it and observed it. My friends were not around and the nature was talking and I was listening.
Why was that little yellow flower getting the entire attention there; the sun rays were perfectly falling on it and the trees were providing it enough shade, the earth was softly wet and the pebbles were guarding it in a funny way. I looked at it for some time and then one of my friends called out for me. I wasn’t startled; the spell broke but I was charmed and the feeling survived. It’s still living.
The film is going to end; there is a wave of calmness and acceptance in the air. People will clap and the ‘hypnotised all’ will come back in the normal world.
And I…I am not sure about myself, I like being in light and darkness.
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Granny’s smile has lots of secrets and lots of memories in it. She is always smiling, beaming; we can also count her wrinkles rising from her cheeks to her closed eyes; eyes shining with childlike brightness, watery eyes speaking the language of love.
It is early morning and everyone in the house is running hither and thither. Mummy is cooking food and packing the tiffin-boxes. The children are late once again and Daddy is going to give them a lift to the school. But Daddy himself cannot find his tie and the green file and somehow Mummy is managing everything right from the kitchen.
In this daily drama we see Granny sitting in the balcony, she is combing her grand-daughter’s plaits; Granny talks about her late grandmother who use to tie her plaits, to which her little granddaughter giggles up and says, ‘Granny you also had a Granny?’
Mummy shouts from the kitchen as the clock declares it is 8. Everyone is late!
In this relay race, this cute family is asked to stop and pose for a photograph. Daddy says no but the children agree and Mummy is caught between them; while everyone else hesitates only to agree in the end, the granddaughter brings Granny inside and both of them settle comfortably on the sofa for the photograph.
Say Cheese! Click!
Daddy is awkwardly smiling with a bad tie-shirt combination making him look funny; Mummy is smiling nicely and is hiding her apron behind her; the children are looking full of life and sleepy at the same time; the granddaughter is hugging her Granny and saying cheese loudly; Granny is smiling peacefully.
Daddy, Mummy and the children wish Granny a good-bye, she waves back at them from the balcony. They leave in their car and get mixed with the ‘bhroom-honk-honk-bhroom’ crowd on the road.
When Granny is asked about the brightness in her eyes and the secret behind her smile, she laughs musically and says, ‘thank you very much’.
Enjoying the scene from her gallery she seems to be waiting for somebody. She walks slowly to the kitchen like there is no need to hurry, this is how blessed she is, maybe this the reason behind her smile.
When we are about to leave the house, she calls us and asks us to meet her friend. Back in the gallery, Granny is feeding a stale roti to a crow with extreme joy in her eyes.
She indicates us to take her photograph with the crow. She is already saying cheese. Click!
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If you peep through the keyhole
The small world you see
Might look real and free
The sky, the bird, the tree
The building, the street and me
All with the round edge and incomplete
Half of the shine and half of the night
Half of the smile and half of the ride
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When the journey ends, it ends
Though the keyholes are in trend
Laughing loudly at yourself you’ll see
One can open the door without any fee.
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Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.
Summer holidays and not so hot day, lying under the tree I peeped endlessly to see the sky. There were no clouds but now and then few birds crossed my vision. As the sun made me close my eyes, I tried to concentrate on the green leaves of the tree but instead I fell asleep. I dreamt happy and bizarre dreams, Alice like dreams. My dreams were colourful, the child’s world.
Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.
Sitting on the study table and with the dull words stubbornly standing in front of me, my mind’s eye tricked each word and I soon reached the future. My future was always perfect – my clothes, my career, my life – everything just smooth and beautiful; boundless time to have fun with friends, family and a special someone. But when my mind’s eye met the alarm clock on the table, I quickly re-entered the tedious world of the textbooks, giving in and apologising, only to trick this world once again.
Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.
It is raining and I am standing near the window, watching droplets join each other and run away. My mind is full of umpteenth things but I am lost, lost as I look at someone walking with an umbrella, fighting the rain and the mud on the road and I think about this unknown person. Though the unknown person has left but the thought remains. I take a sigh and decide to get back to work but I keep standing there.
Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.
Living far away from my loved ones, I feel empty. Before tears fall, my mother calls and I say hello with a smile.
A funny incident that happened in college and how it became the topic of every discussion in my friend circle makes my eyes wide and I joyfully jump back in time.
Also, when I think about the moment when I said ‘Ciao’ to others and their comments and walked on my path, doodling something on the notebook and then closing it feeling my ears getting hot. At this moment someone definitely calls, someone definitely comes and talks and talks and I forget. I simply forget! But it comes to me every time I am alone and every time I just move forward.
Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.
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When I said, “I don’t know”
They said, “Hah, but we know.”
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They don’t know me at all,
Standing up on the wall,
They look down at me and shout,
“You are dying silly, lookout.”
I tremble as the screams hit me,
Drab and numb, says my graphic tee…
I tumbled, tripped and hurt my toe,
But I stood up and decided to go.
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I smiled and said, “I know now.”
They said to me, “But how?”
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Can it be that I reach there
Where the golden light changes into golden colour
And bold red and deep orange strokes
All over the night full of violet stars
Hum together a silent melody…
Where I breathe cool wet air
And dance dance dance…
Then I dip my hand in the sky
And a pink sparkle snake
Shines and merges with the violet stars…
Where it is quietly blue and silver,
Where the golden light changes into golden colour
Can it be that I reach there?
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Sky blue sky
Asks me why
There is no time
To live the time
Which is mine?
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Sky blue sky
Tells me why
Smiles are better,
Far more better
Than promises on a letter
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Sky blue sky
Shows me why
The painter paints
Alive, very happy and
In love, he paints
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Sky blue sky
Knows why
Two eyes
Look at the sky-
To take the blue spirit inside.
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Me: Should I kill Vikram or not?
Me: Of course you should, how many times will you think about it?
Or…maybe you should reveal the truth to Neena first.
Me: But if Neena knows the truth then things will not be the same…what if she calls Vikram?
Me: She is not talking to Vikram, she is not ready to hear a word about him, then why will she call him?
Me: But what if she calls just to shout at him?
Me: First, she will not call him and even if she does, no one will receive the phone because by then you would have killed Vikram, she’ll get more furious and that will be good for us.
Me: Yeah! Right! But then….
Me: But what? Don’t think so much…just go ahead with this plan and we’ll see how things will turn out.
Me: Because Vikram and Neena are not talking and they are lovers and I’ll kill Vikram…doesn’t it sound obvious.
Me: Then kill Neena…or both of them…it is so irritating…it has been like hours and you haven’t written a word on the paper…you are just thinking…bugger off!
Me: Hah! You can’t talk to me like this.
Me: Shut up! I can!
Me: Don’t be so grumpy? You know what, Vikram and Neena are lovers they should not be separated but I think Sanjay….
Me: Great…change it…from thriller in the beginning to a love story in the middle and total nonsense by the end.
Me: What!! Oh! Please! (Stretches back on the chair and sees something on the wooden ceiling) Hey! I have wondered so many times about this shape on the ceiling…you know it looks like a bird…I mean the shape is like that of a bird…like a woodpecker in fact…it so fascinating…I mean why is it here…I wonder if a family of woodpecker lived on this tree which was cut down and…hey I can write something about it…I mean it will be something different and I’ll start right from the shape in the ceiling…there will be a touch of the metaphysical in my story and….
Me: Oh really? But do you know how you’ll end it? Let me tell you…It will end with you taking a nap and later losing all your interest in the metaphysical or the bird or the thriller.
Me: Hah! But you are right here…I will take a power nap…come on…my creative mind needs a break…it deserves some rest. Ha ha ha ha!
Me: Deserves to be tested. Ha ha ha ha!
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Sujata – The Voice of the Unheard
Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam – A tale of role-reversals and downfalls
Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (That which moves is called a car)
Mrinal Sen’s Aakaler Shandhane (In Search of Famine)
La Strada And The Round-Faced Clown
Sherni – Even in the dense jungle, the tigress knows her way.
Gabbeh, the 1996 film, is a simple tale of a gipsy girl, her clan and the way their life goes on. Unfolding beautifully just like an artist painting a canvas, Gabbeh quietly touches the grand questions.
Essentially Gold, The Lavender Hill Mob
Ranked as one of the greatest British films of all time, The Lavender Hill Mob confides in the audience, letting them see, feel, laugh and think without tickling persuasively with a joke here and a punch-line there.
Regina Spektor’s Musical World – Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V
Of Monsters and Men and This Journey
The Circle Game, Joni Mitchell, You and Me
The Answer Is Blowin’ In The Wind
The Wonderful Mr. Tambourine Man Song
Weather Forecast Says Listen to George Ezra
The Choir and Their Toads Sing ‘Double Trouble’
Yes fly! For walking on the second track is dull and usual, but dreaming high, high, high requires tools. Tools like the right pair of shoes, a chirpy, gritty soul that eats butter-jam dreams, a soul that drinks milky-milky creams.
Silver cascade shimmering the night sky, music to the waves and surreal beauty to the eyes, the Moon loves the art of discipline.
It may be difficult to believe for the Moon’s splendour defies time, it stupefies the clock, it follows the path of a dreamer, but how could this be possible if the Moon knew not discipline?
In this moment, I am a little bit of this and a little bit of that, I am complete and incomplete, I am pleased and uncertain, I wish for nothing and I know I have to wait.
Because the distance covered reminds me of the hurdles I have crossed and the ones I could not, it reminds me of a throbbing past and a dreamy future and it reminds me of how much time is left.
A joy so complete without any rise or fall, so free without any time corners, so real without true being false, false being true.
