Thursday, January 18, 2007

Random thoughts and letters....written long back

Dulcinea mmm well the things I notice everyday are changing now that winter is here again with all its sublime glory but I still fail to get up early and enjoy it everyday. Since I take bath with the cold water irrespective of the season I wait for winter morning and brace up myself to plunge in the cold water shivering before even before I enter. It has become a sort of ritual to me entering the bathroom and trying to evade or delay the first bitter assault on my body. Though Dr. says that for some joy I loose lots of energy ‘cause body has to keep the temp. at 37 oC and water of 15-16 oC takes most of it.

I have never taken bath with hot water. I remember when I was child one day I was waiting for hot water and complained to dad and he said “don’t be sissy, why don’t you bathe with cold water like a man?” from that day onward I never took bath with hot water. My father himself never used to use hot water.

And now It’s a ceremony for me to stand under the shower as if to anoint myself by pure crystalline liquid. Though I wish that this water should have had more viscosity, then... it will move ever so slowly on the body suffusing me of its coldness and purity. I remember seeing milk being poured on Shivlinga in temples and I used to get mesmerize by the sight of white liquid shivering and lyrically covering black glistening rock. That’s what I want to feel while taking bath though its only for 10-15 minutes, in that moment standing naked under the shower I feel that this is what a baby must be feeling , floating in the amniotic fluid connected with the umbilical cord, getting all his supplies and listening to the thumping heart of his mother. But here I have no protection of that womb no divine cord to satisfy my earthly need, no tranquility of beating heart.
Standing still for few moments gives me great relaxation but at the cost of cold. May be that’s why I suffer perennially from cold and slightest amount of dust or the coldness gives me sneeze.

And right now it’s a sort of deja vu when I look out from balcony and see the fog winter is already here.

Last few days and every time when you are not there at evening I get restless as usual. I try to do something but fail miserably. I have found that whenever I plan something and don’t do that I am unable to do anything else at that time. And it gives off itself in the form of growing sense of anxiety. Then I start thinking what else to do and finding nothing of importance I use that time to go over various things I do. During such introspection I am able to detect the pattern of rut in all days. Even having change everyday is also becomes boring. I think Plato had said that “ All things which have opposites are generated from opposites” I also see that there is some or other sort of ‘pretense’ in few things we do. Though its terrifying to have no pretence about oneself, yet I feel that’s what gives us the psychological resource to question all the things we do, all the conventionality surrounding our lives? What do you say!!

Write me back
Lately you have not written much to me or in the diary which is lying with me

beside you and anything that happens around me....there are so many other things, which passes through my mind while doing totally remote things. I feel that the ratio of uncertainty in my life has decreased. It’s very much akin to the feeling of love where you see whole universe encompassed in one moment hence you live infinite stable life. But that kaleidoscope never stops churning newer images out of all the thoughts in word and forms that we have assembled in billions of neurons. In a fraction of seconds sometimes I see the images which have no relation to each other. Like I saw a picture of old Red Indian tribal chief with gun in hand with old rickety Mackintosh over his head in National Geography (of which I had made a charcoal sketch) and I imagine him as the old guide from the book “For whom the bells Toll” by Ernest Hemingway, because the description in the first chapter of the book was so evocative. I remember my uncle since he resembles in look and then the shots of my village in the photographs which I took last winter over there… somebody calling my name while in sleep I was persistently being bitten by mosquitoes ..may be my mother and it was my full mane “b h o l e n a t h” while she always used to call me only bhole….. resounding songs which I heard when I was very young and the scent of the body so closely drawn to me that I can see the fine wrinkles beneath the eyes ..rolling eyes in ecstasy …and my trembling heart at the edge of sexual precipice eager to jump ..and still wanting to jump for thousands of time.


“You are condemned to be free”
When Sartre said these words, world was ruled by the determinist idea. Where everybody thought that everything and every event in this world is predestined. That everything happens with a purpose and no one can change what is bound to happen. In short no one was free to do anything but follow some omnipotent force which designed and controlled everything.

Obviously it was the result of a collective mind, that was afraid to take the responsibility for the things happening in this world. It was the weakness in man that was reflected in this doctrine. After all who will like to blame himself for his failures? To save ourself of our inactivity and moral and other shortcomings we came out with the idea of fate. And with this one word we got all excuses we want.


The glint, which sparks at the upper corner wall of the room or on a glass windowpane, is a teleporter of senses. It takes me to my school classroom where my immature but jovial mind bored to death by the incessant droning of be-spectacled teacher, tries to find a solace. And while squinting around I see the shadow of wavelike iron bars of the huge customary municipal building window moving slowly on the wall from on side to another, with the faint horn of the car from whose windshield the reflection that being formed. I still remember very clearly the corner 3rd floor room of the building. I can see the road going straight and on right side there were few shops and a big temple with old men flocked on it with dogs, goats, kids and icecreamwallahs and then that stinking fish and meat market whose gate was always strewn with rickety wet basket and pieces of dry wet prawns. After that one open patch and then settlement again. While on the left side there was community hall hosuing a nursery in morning and sewing class for woman in afternoon, then a detour going to the one of the oldest railway track and then Muslim slum adjoined by a bar a post office and kathiawadi tenements called teen (three) bungalow.

Positive thinking has lots of bearing on the psychology of human being for they are the only one endowed with such faculty. Many times we tend to feel miserable for one reason or the other. And once in that mood we derive a kind of sadistic pleasure in holding ourselves responsible for things, which dose not emanates from us. We feel sorry for ourselves and feel that the pain thus derived or felt is something, which is not disposed to everybody and hence is special. We silently cry at the wretchedness of our being, and take it as an excuse for whatever we are lacking or whatever that is giving us pain.

Sometimes we simply fail to see that by not getting under pressure of that situation, and by simply taking lessens from it and moving ahead, will save us from lots of unnecessary emotional stress. We fail to remember that we had been in similar painful situation before, which passed, and we were again normal for long time before arrival of this new sadness. We ought to remember that there will be time when we will be happy again, when we will be having coffee just like any other day and reading newspaper and seeing silly kitsch serials on TV again and all this will be nothing but a faded memory in the vast landscape of our mind.

But I feel solace does come easily. For in the greatest difficulties of my life I clung to them fiercely believing that they will not remain with me. I will pass this testing time no matter even if I loose something precious from my life because, eventually, these are the part and parcel of life every one of us living on this planet. Another obscure reason was that even if that situation persist, it will become the standard for me and then I will get used to it and I will be needing even greater stress to make me stressful. And I have indeed lost so many things and I lulled in the memory of it for longer time then necessary but I lived through it.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

The S P A C E beyOnd me....... and the emptyness within me

I am not everything

I am not everything
For her
I am,
But a small fraction of
All her desires.

But when she feels that
certain things
Should come to her
Without asking
That is what I am to her

She is everything to me though;

‘Cause I am fathomless
And empty
But She can fill me
With tiny part of herself

I’m wide
And border less
But she can encompass me
Even if she just open her eyes.