Seven Letters From A Wanderer: The Second Letter

IT'S BEEN A MONTH

14 March 2009

Hi Ash,

Yeah, here I am once again. Hope you’re thriving with good health & great spirits. Well, did you read my last letter? I expect you have. So, what was your reaction – surprise and shock or loathing & repugnance? Or was there a feeling of denial that the maybe the letter was not intended for you at all? Maybe it was addressed to the wrong mail id. Clear your doubts, buddy – the letter was intended for you only. Its every word was reaching out to you only.

It’s been one month. One month - seems so long, doesn’t it? But it passes away in a jiffy. Really, time flies away so fast. There are so many things we think we have to do. We plan for them, we prepare for them with meticulous precision. We even complete some of them. But there are others that have to wait. For one reason or other, we fail to finish those chores. And they remain suspended as such, until one day we totally forget those errands. Their fate is to bite dust in some remote corners of our mind. But time – time carries on, in its own pace - too slow for some, scuttling for others - waiting for no one, towards its unknown destination. That’s the writ of the Fates.

Leave these boring things. How was your past month, Ash? Exciting or just the usual stuff? I hope it would’ve been stirring, because for me it was. I had a lot of masti with my friends. We even went to Diamond Harbour . It was a nice place to visit. You see, I enjoy traveling, a lot. Well, let me tell you a secret. It’s one of my cherished dreams. We all have some, don’t we? Dreams for which we live, we die. Well, mine is to travel the whole world – with my soulmate, if possible or just alone. To set out one day, without anyone’s knowledge, with nothing by my side, on my journey to the ends of the earth. To see the world, in its pristine majesty. To shout at the top of my voice at the Niagra Falls . To see how lone & deserted the Australian outback looks from the top of Uluru. To swim in the tidal waters of some secret beach in Thailand . To see the Masaais hunting in the endless plains of Serengeti. To climb the grandiose heights of the snow covered Alps . To douse myself in one of those very rare rains in Paris . Oh, there’s so much to see & so less time. I don’t even know how I am going to complete this dream of mine. Wherefrom am I going to get the money to undertake such a long journey. But that really doesn’t matter, you see. At least, I know what I want. That’s half the battle won. For the rest, I will make it happen some way. I have that much faith in myself.

Oh, see I am so fond of digressing that I even forgot to ask you how your Holi was. Must’ve been rocking, huh? With your friends, smearing colors on each others faces, shouting & doing all sorts of freaky things – Holi has its own charm. Among all the festivals that I celebrate, I think I like Holi the most. With all the raw energy & enthusiasm, holi is an ideal gala for us youngsters. But apart from that there’s another reason that I love Holi. It reminds me of the importance of colors in our life. Just imagine a world devoid of colors, painted in shades of dull grey – how monotonous it’d have been. The blood red sun setting over the endless blue ocean smearing the heavens with a hue of fiery orange, the bright yellow blossoms of mustard peeping out of fresh green fields of some farmer whose wife draped in multicolored finery brings him his lunch – every color has an identity; every color has a story behind it. You know, when I was a child my grandmother used to tell me stories related to colors – how they came to be named as such. I don’t remember them now. Maybe someday when I am able to recall some of them, I will tell them to you. Those sweet stories from my childhood. You see, I don’t remember many things now. But still, I do have their imprints on my mind. Imprints that are indelible. Memories are so akin to these colors of Holi – vivid when fresh; they fade away with passage of time. They become lighter & lighter until one day they blend with their surroundings & fade away into oblivion. Memories & colors are so similar.

Another thing, it rained on the Holi night. It was so thrilling. My sleep was broken by the incessant whoosh of the chilly winds reverberating through the walls of my empty room. To add to the delight, the lights went out suddenly. I went to the rooftop of my house. The drizzle had just begun. After so many days of hot & humid weather, this cold rain was a welcome change. I drenched myself in the rains.

Do you like rains, Ash? Well, it’s a difficult question to ask from someone who has been a victim of the monsoon mess in Kolkata. Even then, I love rains. It is the one thing that has remained constant from my childhood. Actually, rains make me nostalgic. The smell of the first drops of rain on the parched ground brings back the memories of my childhood. The rhythms created by the droplets of rains falling on tin rooftops, getting wet in the rain, running in the waterholes with your friends & splattering mud on each other and floating paper boats in the drains overflowing with muddy water. After all the mischief, coming back home to be scolded by your mother at first, but then to be served with hot tea & tasty pakoras. Those were the days. So full of fun, so careless. Free from all the worries of the world. Sometimes I am forced to think – why can’t we become more like children & less like adults.

How did we lose our innocence, Ash? How did we become so complex? When did we start taking our lives so seriously? How the hell we became so shrewd as to wear masks each day & for every occasion? How?

Perhaps to counter this transformation, I kept my childishness alive, somewhere deep within me. I have been accused of hiding my insecurities behind my childishness & criticized for it. And for once, I’d even decided to do away with my childishness so as to suit others. But the things that I did to make myself delectable to others, made me distasteful to those who cared about me the most. That day, I learnt a lesson. You can’t make everyone happy in this world. You may change yourself in any way you like, but there will be people who will disapprove of you. But the people who love you, who care about you, will never judge you for what you are. Because they love you for what you are, not what you can be. If someone loves you, he must accept you as you are. If he wants to change you, then what was it that he loved in the first place, isn’t it?

Ash, I just want to tell you that I love you as you are, whatever that may be. I accept you for all your worth & for all your shortcomings, too. Whether you accept my love, that’s your decision and I swear, I shall respect it. So just be yourself. I LOVE YOU.

So much for now. I have said so many things, but I feel as if I have still more to say.  Like the previous time, I will again ask you to reply, if you trust me (No issues even if you don’t – Reply only when you feel you can trust me). I will catch up with you in my next letter. Till then, goodbye & take care.

With lots of love,

Yours

Ascetic Wanderer

P.S. Never stop drinking tea. That’s the only way I get a glimpse of you.

Seven Letters From A Wanderer: The First Letter

A VALENTINE'S DAY SURPRISE!!!

 

14 February, 2009

Hi Ash,

As you know, today is Valentine’s Day. I hope you are reading this letter today, i.e., on 14^th of February (not that it makes any difference, but still I’d feel good). The possibilities are dim (who, after all, checks official e-mail account on Valentine’s Day); still, I am happy that at least you’re reading this. I thought let me give you a surprise. There is so much to tell you that I don’t know where to start. I am not even sure that you want to know. Anyway, it is only an e-mail. You can just delete it, if you don’t.

You know, everyone in this world aspires to achieve some dream. You chase your dream with all your effort. You toil day and night and overcome mighty hurdles to obtain your dream. But somewhere in the midst of your journey, when you turn back to look at the past that you have lost, you find nothing but an emptiness. In the quest of your dream, you make yourself alone. You forget that the stairs of success you are climbing have no end to them. The more one climbs, the more of it appears. And with every step, you have to get rid of your belongings. What are these belongings – can you guess? They are nothing but your friends & relations. Those, who once mattered more than your life, become just that – belongings to get rid of.  And one day, when you stop & look around yourself, you see the futility of your quest. You realize that in hope of some illusory happiness, you have lost the small joys of your life. You have become alone. Yes, alone. The quest for success makes a man so forlorn, so lonely.

Loneliness is such a painful thing - especially, when you’re part of a fast-moving, merciless & callous city. Where dreams are crushed underfoot every day, and not even a single sigh escapes from anyone’s lips. Where a million souls respire, and yet you feel the strangest soullessness. Where the sense of being alone, even in the midst of a surging crowd, becomes so overwhelming that sometimes you feel like shrieking at the top of your voice, just to know that you’re alive. The heart pines for the proximity of someone who can listen to the laments of your soul. And that is why we need love. Because, love gives us strength. The strength to carry on.

There are a billion lives on this planet. What does a single life matter? What is the significance of the life of an ordinary man? Who cares what happens to anybody else? But when you’re in love, you begin to understand the answers. Because when you love somebody, you take an oath. An oath that whatever may be the circumstances, whatever the state of affairs, the life of your beloved will not go unnoticed. That you will be there, through times, both good & bad. You will stand shoulder to shoulder, throughout his rise. You will hold him tightly, for his every stumble. You will forward a helping hand, on his every fall. You will be there to say that you care. Perhaps, that’s the reason, they say, love is beautiful. Who would not give his life to get that love?

Have you ever loved someone? Have you ever felt the extreme joy that surges in the heart on just the sight of someone? Is there someone with whom you can talk for hours & hours & yet feel that you haven’t talked at all? When even long silences between both of you become hours of cheerful converse. Have you ever placed your head on someone’s shoulder & forgotten all the sorrows of the world? Have you ever woken up on a bright morning with your heart throbbing in the anticipation of meeting someone? Have you ever felt alive?

You must be thinking why the hell am I telling you all this! Rest assured, everything has a purpose.

Let me tell you something else. Do you believe in destiny? It is a strange thing – this destiny. Unknown to us, it spins a stunning web of coincidences & uncertainties. Sitting at a precise moment, it is difficult to see the connotations of those coincidences. But with the passage of time, we begin to perceive the meaning of these flukes. When we realize the whole plan, we begin to appreciate the beauty of the plan.

Have you ever wondered that maybe there is someone with whom you always cross your paths? Your eyes meet for a moment & then you go on separate ways – to meet again the next day. You don’t even realize, but destiny begins spinning its web. You go on with your life in oblivion, indifferent to the world. But for someone else - you have become the world.

This Valentine, I’d just like to tell you that for someone somewhere in this world you have become the solace of heart. Who is happy, because you are happy. Whose heart melts, with every twinkle in your eyes that appears when you smile. Who flows, in every tear that trickles down your eyes when you’re in sorrow.  Who is alive, because you breathe. This Valentine I want to convey you that you’re not alone - because I’m with you. Because

I LOVE YOU.

Surprised? I had told you - destiny is a strange thing, my dear. It is curious that unknown to you, there are people who love you; who’ll do anything for you. And yet, you languish for love & companionship, without even realizing that it is so near to you. You just need the eyes to see it; the hands to grab it.

So, what next? I’d say – nothing. One thing I’ve learnt in my life – never hide your feelings in your heart. Let them pour out. So that, in future I would not have any regrets. There will be no “ifs”, “buts” or “maybes”. I’ve promised to myself that I’ll never ever say ‘if only…’. We are hungry for love; and nothing gives us more pleasure than the feeling of being adored, being sought after. That’s why I think I needed to tell you all this.  I owe you that. I owe you much more. I wish someday we’ll be able to meet face to face.

But before that I want to listen to you. If you’ve faith in me, reply back. I expect nothing from you. Just your trust. Your thoughts, your reflections, your hopes, your aspirations, your joys, your sorrows – anything you’d like to share (even your abuses for me, if any). As my friends say, I’m a good listener. And who knows, maybe we can become good friends, at least.

So much for now. Looking forward to hear from you.

Love,
Ascetic Wanderer.

PS: You look very handsome in black formals. Wear them more often. 

Antichrist (2009)

Disturbed, a sense of uneasiness – that’s how I would describe my feeling after seeing Antichrist. An expectant deer delivering, with the kid half hanging from her uterus; a baby bird fallen from its nest, the ants wriggling on its body, biting at it when an eagle swoops down upon it and then lands upon a tree clasping it and tearing it apart piece by piece; a crow buried alive beneath the ground smashed to death with a piece of stone; a fox tearing apart its own intestines; a man’s genital spewing blood when masturbated; a woman cutting off her own clitoris with a pair of scissors - Antichrist thrives on loathsome scenes like this. What starts as a painful drama about a couple who have lost their only child (the disturbing premise being the child fell off an open window while the parents were indulged in sex) and are trying to cope with it, gradually turns into a gruesome psychological thriller involving a meditation on pain, grief and despair (the Three Beggars, as the film identifies them) on one hand while a commentary upon sex, life and death on the other. Trouble starts when the couple retreats to a cabin in a forest where bizarre visions and sadistic sexual behaviour overwhelms their life. The film contains scenes potent in medieval Catholic imagery and Christian symbolism as well as sadistic sexual fancies that can shock and provoke any normal audience. Wikipedia quotes an article published on the site breitbart.com that, “At least four people fainted during the preview due to the film's explicit violence.” You’ll have to see the film to judge the truth of the above report. The only soothing moments of the film are provided in the so called ‘Prologue’ and ‘Epilogue’ of the movie, where the beautiful aria ‘Lascia ch'io pianga’ runs in the background to some brilliant images in slow motion. The movie combines the beautiful camerawork of Anthony Dod Mantle with stunning performances by Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg. So what’s my judgment about the movie? Well, director Lars von Trier was quoted as saying, “was Antichrist my Inferno Crisis?” For my part, I think, it indeed was.

Music and Loneliness

While returning home today after having my sumptuous dinner at Subway, I chanced upon a Folk Music concert going on beside the fish market in Keshtopur. Organised by the Viswakarma Puja Committee, Keshtopur, the concert featured little known singers singing Bangla folk music. The audience gathered seemed pretty familiar with the music. Although I am a complete stranger to Bangla folk music, I was attracted by the song. The singer was not extraordinarily gifted and you could feel the roughness in his voice; but the music – it had an enticing quality. I don’t know but that song aroused a strong sensation of loneliness within me. It had that haunting quality, so characteristic of folk music. I believe that folk music, if it is really good, has the capacity to linger on for a long time in your head and heart. And this song, that the singer was singing did stay behind in my mind. The song had a visual quality to it that made me envisage a lonely person walking down the dirt-ridden lanes of Kolkata and that song playing in the background. He was lost, bereaved of his friends and his family. Altogether alone. And the music – as if all thoughts from the farthest corners of his mind had taken the form of words and melody and beats and had surrounded him, lamenting upon his loss. It was a powerful image; I feel I could write a whole script or story around it. In the same way, as the image of a plastic bag, flying round and round in an alley, compelled Sam Mendes to create ‘American Beauty’. Or as Gulzar had said about that scene in Kamleshwar’s ‘Kitne Pakistan’ where the handkerchief of the heroine is falling down in a rotational motion from the foot-bridge, that he could write a complete novel out of that one scene. It was an image as powerful as that. I wish someday I would be able to include that scene and song in a movie that I’ll make.

LIQUID DREAMS...

(I was just surfing thru some unknown profiles in ORKUT when I happened to come across this picture in the album of someone called **RoameR**. Sketched by him, he called it LIQUID DREAMS. I was enticed by the picture & words started taking shape in my mind. This is for those hands that carved such a beautiful masterpiece.)


Let the azure heavens above cover me no more
Nor the black earth below sustain me;
Let the hurricanes high on the sea falter my vessel
And the mighty winds tear my nest to pieces.
Let the shivering cold freeze my wavering thoughts
And the sparks of lightning obliterate my existence.
Let the beating rains steep me in apalling gore
And mountains high crop up to block my ways ahead.
Let the liquid dreams fade into oblivion
And the crystal hopes fall asunder
Let plastic trusts descry their annihilation
And trifling love wrap itself in an impassable drape.
Still, I shall find my way in solitude
Dark may be the night, invisible the road
'Cause I know, someone is waiting for me
With arms open wide, wherever ends this road.

TUM...

(This is one of my first compositions in Hindi. Written for a friend, I hope it conveys my feelings unambiguously.)

नहीं  जानता  था  मैं तुम्हें

पर तुम्हारे स्पर्श में था 

वो अपनापन, वो प्यार 

जिसने मेरे दिल में तुम्हारी 

एक अमिट तस्वीर बना दी. 

न जाने किस राह पर चला था 

इस ज़िन्दगी को मुट्ठी में बांधे

ठोकर लगी तो ये जाना -

हर ओर अँधेरा था 

मैं चीखा, चिल्लाया

पर कोई नज़र न आया!

मगर - 

पाकर सहारा तुम्हारे मज़बूत हाथों का

मैं निकला उस स्याह अँधेरे से.

नज़र उठा कर देखा

तो था तुम्हारा हँसता चेहरा;

पर उन हंसती आँखों से

न जाने क्यूँ छलक पड़ी

आंसू की वो नन्ही बूँदें.

और जैसे मेरी सारी दुनिया

बह गयी उन बूंदों में.

धुंधली हुई छवि तुम्हारी

मैं दौड़ा - 

सोचा तुम्हें रोक लूं

पर तुम हो चुके थे गुम

हवा की हलकी झोकों में;

बची रह गयीं सिर्फ यादें तुम्हारी

जिन्हें, कर मुट्ठी में बंद

मैं निकल पड़ा अनजान सफ़र पर

ना जाने किस अनजान डगर पर.

ENGLISH TRANSLITERATION

Nahin jaanta tha main tumhe
Par tumhare sparsh mein tha
Woh apnapan, woh pyar
Jisne mere dil mein tumhari
Ek amit tasveer bana di.

Na jaane kis raah par chala tha
Is zindagi ko mutthi mein baandhe
Thhokar lagi to yeh jaana -
Har or andhera tha
Main cheekha, chillaya
Par koi nazar na aaya!
Magar -
Paakar sahara tumhare majboot haathon ka
Main nikla us syah andhere se.
Nazar uthakar dekha
To tha tumhara hansta chehra
Par un hansti aankhon se
Na jaane kyon chhalak padi
Aansun ki woh nanhi boondein.
Aur jaise meri saari duniya
Bah gayi un boondon mein.

Dhundhli hui chhavi tumhari;
Main dauda-
Socha tumhein rok loon
Par tum ho chuke the gum
Hawa ki halki jhonkon mein;
Bachi rah gayin sirf yaadein tumhari
Jinhein, kar mutthi mein band
Main nikal pada anjaan safar par,
Na jaane kis anjan dagar par.

WHERE ART THOU?

O Solace of my Heart! Where art thou?
Much have I traveled & much learnt
And yet, none lent a hand in my search unfailing.



Aye, I climbed the loftiest peaks of the Himalayas
And delved deep into the bosom of Poseidon
Yonder sailed to the farthest frontiers of fathomless Pacific
And shivered in the stinging chill of the Arctic -
I searched for thee in the Heavens.
I searched for thee in the Shades.
I smoldered in the fire of passion
To touch thee, to feel thee & to make thee mine.

The fleeting fragrance of thy frenzied breath
The seemly smile of thy enthralling visage
The velvet smoothness of thy aspen arms
The untainted silks of thy brazen hair
Touches me still -
Brings in thy memories, of seconds ephemeral spent together
Under the shades of the surreptitious oak
Near the surging streams of the sparkling brook
Where the vibrant sun burnished our bodies
Filtered through the green leaves trembling in the wind;
Where thine soul touched me ; and mine, of thee.
Nature stood there beholding us in elation
The joys of Spring, the ecstasies of Summer
The silence of Autumn, & the pain of Winter
Were those times genuine, or the phantasms of a possessed psyche?

And now that thou art gone
The sizzling sun scorches me no more
Nor do the beating rains drench me to sore
Am I still that figurine of flesh & blood
Or have I become a shade, invisible like air?



O Solace of my Heart! Where art thou?
I search for thee in the Heavens.
I search for thee in the Shades.
Come, my love! Return back to me wherever thou art.
I will love thee, adore thee & worship thee in my heart.
Come, beloved! Come & fill my heart with love long lost.