Do you know what does the core of the universe look like?? Do you know how you transcend past the ugly world of dead crows and run over dogs through a pyre of stateless zones, moving into the eternal world of darkness which dwells in the ultimate eternity of your mind, till your brain zones into the core, the very core where the light and ugliness of the world retreats from your memory and the innermost darkness which is your light, your purest light envelops you in a shroud of darkness??
How to begin… fragments of memories are getting all muddled, a gust of wind scatters the autumn leaves and a round surface on the ground is revealed, its circularity bringing forth togetherness, a shared feeling, cosmic reality; lucidity lurks in the fusion of things.
The heat scorched me to the bones and perspiration made my clothes stick to my body; my hands and face were covered with dirt and I could feel my mouth twisting with the metallic taste-the unpalatable pollution, I call it- as I entered the Hotel, my resort till counselling procedure was over and I secured a seat in M.A English, Banaras Hindu University
An abysmal place where management of any sort is a distant memory, where you are dragged out of your comfort zone and thrown into a boiling pot of disarray, can repulse you; it can challenge you even! But in my first few days I made a home in this city, in that hotel. The familial hospitality of the employees, their honest keenness to make you feel at home filled me with wonder initially, and warmth, gradually. So I went back again and again in the two years of my stay to feed on some hint of familiarity, some sense of welcome and being welcomed, which reassured and reaffirmed my existence.
A CRUSADE is a CURSE without a CURE, a WAR is RAW: look at those marching TROOPS, spiritually POOR, mechanically exterminating ROOTS, SOOT-covered; they could be TILLED to conjure not ART but ARTILLERIES. There will be RIFLES, FILING away LIFE with an ‘R’; there will be the ORGY of GLORY, there will be VICTORY that has a burning TROY in it, a stinking ROT and the (e)VICT(ion) of the VICT (im) and somebody will face DEFEAT, DE-FEAT, the cessation of human FEAT, debunked with violence, seizing you by the collar and throwing you down the gorge!
There are SORES in ROSES, there are songs, and there are songs of destruction SUNG by GUNS. But Stop! LIMIT the MILITARY to a minimum, I desire MUSIC that comes from the MUSES, from lofty Olympian mountains, levelling agitated hearts; MUSING, contemplating and interrogating through Rhythm, Beat and Repetition. Continue reading →
Riding a private/public bus in Kolkata, is analogous to being in a car chasing spree, with the driver being James Bond himself. The aforementioned public transports run by private proprietors are exempt from obeying protocols that should encompass the safety of the passengers ferried. The primary goal that motivates the drivers of these buses is arriving at the final stop at a target time, as their pay check depends upon fulfilling a marked number of trips a day. The means to that end is achieved by reckless driving with the lives of several passengers relying upon His mercy. One erroneous move entails a fatal tragedy. The Horn plays a major role in the colossal chase. It’s an instrument, whose untiring application clears the way for the bus to surge forward with more force. The horn of a bus is a weapon that is dreaded by most and whenever its thunderous roar is heard, every motorist endeavours to get out of the way as soon as possible. Continue reading →
Today I went to my College to meet a very dear grad teacher of mine and as I entered the staffroom I found myself in the middle of some kind of an administrative crisis. My teacher had a heated up cellular conversation with a colleague and blurted out the F word after hanging up, the utterance of which is considered to be very unscholarly and uncouth in an academic circle. Later she mentioned about her apparent slip and the burgeoning pressure that was behind the momentary outburst. Continue reading →
I’m an eleventh hour girl, (yes, I still consider myself a girl) and I function well under pressure; well supposedly. Last minute exam preparations usually take me deep into the night and the occasional “in-between” breaks that I take during those long hours become home to my nocturnal observations. On one such night as I was sifting through some notes which seemed interminable, my ears were pricked by a bird’s twitter. I remember it was not more than 2:15 in the morning, and as soon as I heard the avian song I closed my book and tip-toed my way to the balcony, lest my movements unsettle the bird’s peace. The sound became vivid as my eyes scrutinized the dark night. However, I couldn’t sight the bird, that night I only heard its voice. Continue reading →