The Mêlée

The longer I strive to take care of myself these days, the more I realise the significance of attitude or approach in life. Somehow, as I have begun to realise, that it is important than reality. The extraordinary thing is we have an alternative everyday regarding the attitude we will clinch for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. The only thing we can do is play on the one little filament that we have, and that is our attitude.
Watching someone leave from my life, (well you never entered it, I just made you a part of my world without realising anything), it does not make me cynical or harsh about certain emotions that I think will take a lot of time to get back to me again. Its just that unearthing them all over again is not the task that is on my priority list now.
Also firsts are always special in life. Apart from that the mollycoddled child that I have been, I am not used to any sort of soreness mentally.
I dislike certain things now. A little too much. I dislike myself for sitting at the same coffee shop and staring at the empty couch in front of me. I dislike my travel because the mind is in a wanderer’s stage then. I dislike being alone.
But there are solutions for everything. I am reading more then ever. I am watching more movies then ever. Listening to music more then ever. Writing more then ever. Shopping more then ever. Watching ‘Friends’ and the daily news a little too much, so that I am busy. Busy with life and its chores. One good thing is that all of it is also giving me the opportunity to become more passionate about certain other things. My family, friends and of course my reading sessions. I am just loving them.
I am converted over the fact that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. So back on the real track might take some time but I am just close.
Also I don’t want to push anything aside. Playing squash is indeed a tough task. I want to move on with some really special and wonderful emotions buried somewhere that deserve nothing more then a lot of deference and respect. I was honest and so were you. Therefore I want to ask for nothing. I just want to look at the stars again, smell the rain again, feel the wind, play with children and fight for my dreams. The fight has already begun and this time with my own self…..

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The title of the post means a fight or battle

The Long Drawn Out Wait......

O Lord!
In your world, In my world, In our world
Why are hatred and war in attendance?
Your heart is so expansive
Yet why are ours so constricted?

At every step, why is there a boundary?
All this earth that is yours
Sun is what it revolves around
Why is it so shady still?
On this world’s veil,
why do I see blood’s colour everyday?

Echoing are the shouts of many
That pour like hot iron in the ears
Who wants to listen to the talks of love and tolerance?
Shattering are all the dreams
Who is going to gather all these scattered pieces?
Heart's doors are locked
Why are these locks so rusty?

My answer?
I am still waiting……

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A dedication to Mumbai. The mayhem in Mumbai has rocked the entire world.

The Uncertainity

There is a blur. A haze, that blurs the line between good and evil. So much so that I forget the difference between paranoid and patriot.
I try to run closer to truth. It is like a breathless chase. All of it churns my gut, hurling me against the wall.
A glimpse of it suddenly now and I want to run away. Run away from it all like mad. Madness surpassing any other emotion and live in a virtual dream world yet again. Totally on one side of the blur. But the blur coaxes through its own hoops and wants me to see through. And temptation. Well there is too much of it.
I try and look through, yet again. And the world stops ticking for a moment. Or does it really stop? It doesnt. Its just what I feel.
I hate this feeling. This feeling of uncertainity where I can see things somewhat clearly but accepting it untill things really happen is what I dont want to do.
All I do is request this somebody inside me to please grant me some sleep.

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We women have this bad habit of clinging on to our thoughts believing all that we want to. I hate myself for harming my own self with this. But reality might hurt more and it will. This certainity is killing too.

While my guitar gently weeps..

While half the world falls in love and half wakes up to get going for work, my heart wanders in search of free days and free nights and indulges in wishful thinking again, as usual....And all I manage is coax it, but the thoughts emerge like a volcano, all over again.

A scorching night and some cold air and I long to hold that hand. And I don’t even know if that hand wants to hold mine.

On a cold wintery evening, on a little hilltop, I want to listen to the silence. I want my eyes to well up looking at you. But I don’t even know if you want to look back.

I don’t know where is this world? I am not even sure if it will ever exist.
And while my guitar gently weeps, I want to lie in possible ambiguity, in the scorching night and the cold wintery night and go across the universe holding that hand, without that hand even knowing about it.

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The title has been taken from one of the very beautiful tracks by Beatles

Go Kiss the World

It is raining cats and dogs at an hour when I should not be out. Or may be I should be. Who cares? Do I? Anybody else does? I am running as fast as possible in small but still big pools of water, looking for shelter which is to be found nowhere.

I am all drenched up till the skin and may be far inside too, water dripping constantly from my nose, running like a penguin amid a small heard of people and going where all of them are. But a strong urge to not go with all of them and I suddenly take a back turn. Suddenly? No I thought about it for around ten seconds!

I try looking for a shelter on my own in a different direction on a way that looks bizarre, deserted and totally out of place. Well totally out of being a rebel without a cause. But still there is no regret, no guilt mounting up as it used to.

I find a place to stand for a while, one or two people passing by occasionally, somebody even making a pass. I give a bad stare and he shoves of for a while.
I pick up all my bags and finally rush into this Madame shop I had been looking for. The shutter would have gone down in another 5 minutes. Well made it just on time!!!!
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Is shopping a woman’s prerogative? Well not all the time. But its therapy for sure. Try it to believe it!! The title of the post has been taken from Subroto Bagchi’s new book

Singing it Right

TEST DRIVE

Battling butterflies in her stomach, our correspondent dons the avatar of a ghazal singer for an evening

I have always loved singing, and this led to my parents getting me trained in classical music as a kid. It did come to good use as I opted to spend an evening at the InterContinental Eros in Delhi as a ghazal singer. I met the team of musicians with whom I was going to perform at the the Singh Sahib restaurant in the hotel. This is where our audience of diners would sit. I met my team of musicians for the evening. We greeted each other with the customary aadaab. Our small team consists of Raja Ali on the harmonium who is also the head musician, Mohammad Mobeen Ahmed on the sitar and Shaqeel Ahmad on the tabla. The tehzeeb is unmistakable with these seasoned musicians. Priya Wankhade, the lead female singer of the group, was given an off today because yours truly was taking centrestage!

Becoming a ghazal singer for an evening sounds quite exciting but performing in front of an audience is no easy task. While we waited for people to enter the restaurant we tuned the instruments and kept our copies of ghazal lyrics handy.
It was soon 8.30 pm and here I was all set to start off my first song for the evening. That is when the butterflies in my stomach went into a tizzy. I should have had the pineapple juice offered to me when I entered the hotel. My polite refusal, with “Mera gala kharaab ho jayega” was not a wise decision especially now all I could say pleading for water was “Mera gala sookh raha hai!”

The word ghazal means, ‘to converse with the beloved’ in Arabic. Here the beloved were a group of hungry diners. Raja Ali knew it was difficult for me to begin, so he sang the customary traditional ‘vandana’. It did help me relax a bit, I then took a deep breath and began with Jagjit Singh’s ghazal Jhuki Jhuki si nazar bekaraar hai ke nahi. A few people from the audience seemed tickled by the choice of song, and smiled at me, I smiled back, but couldn’t linger on the attention. I had to look back at the diary for the lyrics.

While orders for tandoori chicken and paneer korma made their way to the kitchen and liquor made an appearance on the tables, I started on the second song, again a Jagjit Singh number— Hoton se choo lo tum, mera geet amar kar do. Now with their orders arriving at the table, few people were interested in the music. It felt a bit discouraging and I remembered what the food and beverage manager said to me before we began, “You can perform as long as my guests don’t run away!”

I tried to get my audience back with the popular Bollywood ghazal sung by Lata Mangeshkar, Aapki nazron ne samjha, pyar ke qabil mujhe. And well, this time I did get a few approving nods. Then I tried to touch on something more unconventional. I sang a Sufi number, Mere Maula karam ho karam, which was planned to be the last number of the evening. Half way through the song I realized that there was absolute silence around me, no clatter of fork and knives, no din of conversations. I sang this one with my eyes shut. I don’t know who was looking and who wasn’t and this time I did not care. I ended the evening with a Ghalib couplet: Hazaro khwahishe aisi ki har khwahish pe dum nikle, bahut nikle mere armaan phir bhi kam nikle ( A myriad desires were ours, for each we’d life forego. Many longings were fulfilled but too few even so.)

The crowd then finally applauded and there were a few song requests too! The evening was finally a success.
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One of my stories in Indian Express where passion and profession was merged into one

Hi

Hi people

I havent forgotten my blog. A lot of you have been complaining but I am just a little too occupied with my work. I am going to be back with a story soon. Thank you all of you for being concerned. Its a lovely feeling when people want you back.