Life, Musings, Misadventures, Epiphanies by Arun Raj

Conversations with Time [POEM]

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sat, 20 May 2023 16:15:00 +0000

What am I here to create

That was not already here?

What do I hope to gain

That has never been attained?

What more meaning do I realise

Beyond what stares into me right now?

What loves - new or missed would matter

To the lives that I never lived?

What limitless things can I possess

That possess me more than I them?

What endless tomorrows await me

That offer more than the limitless now?

***

Painting: The Ninth Wave - Ivan Aivazovsky

Bare it all [Poem]

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Wed, 02 Mar 2022 09:15:00 +0000

Bare! Bare it all,

Into that long night.

Like a mother,

To her baby, a tiger to its prey.

Fail! Fail deeper

Into the deepest chasms.

There, in the unending dark

Of the pits of drear, are answers more dear.

Bound by Freedom [POEM]

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Thu, 27 Jan 2022 21:53:00 +0000

...

Somewhere in the night's silence lies peace.

A wayward feather drifts aimlessly in the winter breeze.

'Freedom', said the messaih, 'is and is not'.

Words trickling unbound through my mind's mazes -

Of witch hunts & bubble teas, failings & mishti dahi.

Bare white the canvas of future, but bloody to me.

Fair maidens say, 'look to the green side'.

Lustful of the free, Mothers of a playground talk.

Thoughts - many - flow upstream on rivers of anxiety.

Dark truths pushing downstream.

I spoke to the sun of a day like today;

About taking freedom from a random world.

'Take it all, but not my heart' wished I to my current captor.

'Let me be the wayward feather, the unbound mother, the paint-less canvas.'

The sun said to me, 'Freedom is and is not'.

...

About the Quantum Inadequacies of a fickle shimmer [POEM]

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 01 Aug 2021 20:10:00 +0000

A fickle shimmer of a once bright star - I

Am neither one nor zero - a quantum inadequacy.

A presence so insignificant - so much so

An attempt to quantify me is banal.

Why so do the unfamiliar many

Want to steal my fickle shimmer? I wonder. I fret.

Incessantly, as I flicker through the day,

The days merge into nights & light years pass by.

The end - somewhere out there.

At the end of infinity times infinity.

Ah! Infinite time, we should curse. Right?

For no other feels guilty enough for our somethingness.

Let's fight time! Let's fight infinite futility.

For a definite end to this current particulate existence.

Beam me out Scotty, not up, from now.

Or, may be I am wrong!

The Naive many think death is right,

Away from flickering away as a quantum inadequacy.

Never fully formed, never fully there.

Forever more, forever so, stringed up in a causal loop.

The confident Masses think forward is right,

Away from a non-zero existence.

Confident - more energy is more mass is more speed.

Running a relative race on an infinite track.

The faithful of Now think peace is right,

Away from the inadequacies of a non-zero existence.

Blissful - ignorant of world truths.

Mastering the infinite monkeys of a finite mind.

Every attempt to tame the infinite monkeys

Off my banal existence - fruitless, meaningless.

My non-zero existence, only a quantum inadequacy.

Who am I- But a fickle shimmer of a once bright star?

The Little Prince of Tinsel Town - Part 3: Prepare to Witness Madness

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Wed, 22 Jul 2015 08:39:00 +0000

Continued from Part 2: Arjun the Contender...

Arya set his wooden sword back into his belt and bent down to settle himself into position. Like most great champions, Arya had his superstitions. Left leg knee went down first, then switch to right leg knee. In Arya’s eyes the world looked different. His world was now the scene of a live colosseum, where gladiators fought for glory. In his ears, the sounds of murmuring children around him were like a 100,000 strong crowd willing him on, to kill at will.

Shabaaz stood by Arya, pumping him up. “You were made for this! Focus on this moment. Fly like a butterfly & sting like a bee.”, encouragingly Shabaaz said to Arya. Both highly driven followers of Muhammad Ali.

While Arya had his superstitions and Shabaaz, Arjun had his younger brother, Virat, by his side. Virat never left Arjun’s side. Virat was 3 and a bunch of energy and seemed to always hunt for trouble. Arjun found it comforting to have his brother by his side and out of trouble. Virat loved the attention from his brother & enjoyed his self-adopted role as lead cheerleader for Arjun. In a match, Virat would string together all his known words to find new cheers to inspire and drive Arjun to victory.

Virat’s simplest cheer was, “Kill him!” and Arjun knew it was clobbering time.

The conditions were just right for the epic match, the mid-November morning sun was at a cool 25 degrees Celsius. Nature was seemed to be in full attendance to engage in the match. The sun played hide & seek with the clouds. While the Sun sided with Arya, the clouds sided with Arjun. The birds went silent around, keenly perching on nearby electric & cable wires right above the match area. A few stray dogs hung around, because Arya was a good friend to them. The dogs pitted for Arya and the birds pitted for Arjun. The only neutral play was by the light chilly breeze, it allowed just enough for the Kancha’s to get an opportune spin advantage & tested each player's resolve to stay in the game.

Both players were highly technical in their game. While Arya had his rebound trick shots to get 2 or more Kancha’s out of the game, Arjun had his long shots mastery that helped him get out of tough spots with ease. The refinement these boys had in this simple game could impress anyone with half an interest to step in and be lost in the quirkily named shots like:

I-am-Don shot: A shot that hit or moved at least 3 contender marbles out of place.
Arjun’s-Vengeance: A slight spin induced shot, special to Arjun, where the Kancha being shot swerved around one Kancha to hit another.
Arya-takes-it-all: Arya’s finisher shot, where he takes 2 Kancha’s at the last shot

Our players were just ready, but there was one last piece of this game missing. Right then, the heads of all the little boys around the huddle, including Arjun & Arya turn to realise a reckoning presence, there was Radhika.

Radhika determinedly walks into the arena and says, “Today you fight for greatness. Let there be no doubt!”, she has her hands on her hips and head held high, “Win or forever leave the game!”

(To be continued ... Part 4: Radhika's best Men)

The Night Sky Manual

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 07:26:00 +0000

Every weekend I returned from college, the four of us - mother, my two sisters and I, we had a little ritual. We had dinner under the open skies on the terrace of our home in Kerala. The typical city dweller might awe at this experience, but this was a regular for us. The beauty of most homes in Kerala is that there is space left around the home for plants, coconut trees, mango trees, teak & then quite a bit of strolling space. After dinner, we sat up a little later into the night, after keeping only the necessary lights on about the house, and lay down on the terrace together to star gaze and marvel at the night sky.

Mom was the child in our family of 5, she still is. It was Mom, who like a fascinated child would ask a naive question like - ‘What lies beyond these stars?’. My sisters had & still have an aversion to the philosophical and were always the last to engage. It was then left to Mom & I to argue out our versions. Quite predictably, I approached the question scientifically, and Mom would direct the discussion towards to God and say "It is God that lies beyond all this. He made us and send us here!". Easy said, but who could not be swayed by the beauty of the splendidly clear night sky and find themselves in a haste to simplify the answer to God’s paint brush? It allowed so much more time to absorb the enormity of all this bling. How do I be more like mom & less analytical about existence?

When I look at the sky, the first thought that pops in my head is ‘The Big Bang theory’ – to explain the dispersed nature of everything in the sky, by extension somehow then to the show ‘The Big Bang theory’ & Sheldon Cooper. Then it raced into ‘the Doppler’s effect’ – to explain the shifting of wavelengths of components of the lights spectrum, trying to understand what I could be seeing was really Red or Green. While at it now, I even went further to the most obvious extensions: time travel & parallel dimensions, and wondered if I could time travel & erase some blunders of old times or what myself in a parallel dimension would be doing now. As you see the journey was not as easy as I imagined. But finally, the poet in me wakes up!

A bright and dimpled moon, almost Ujala *safedi*, shines intently through a clear bluish black carpet strewn with the brightest & most eagerly twinkling stars. When I look at the moon, of all the stories of a Rabbit in the moon et al, I always think of a dignified aristocrat posing for a portrait that goes up the walls of a duke’s home. There is also this beauty in the idea of the moon, a singular highly committed object that revolves around another in a symbiotic relationship, one that keeps each other in check. Although I could cheese this up by saying, the moon reminded me of my girlfriend, at that point, and her beauty, I feel that’s the most lackadaisical & uninspiring metaphor for describing either’s beauty. Who does that? {rhetoric, don’t answer that}

Orion, Ursa Major, Pisces & others that stand out and not requiring any optical instruments to observe & identify. The milky way unambiguously splitting the bluish black sky in half, as if a sword had slit a door to another world. To get a good view of the milky way without time lapse lenses, you would have to lay down for a while & get your eyes adjusted. Then a question arises in me, is there not glory in this creation, and if there is then why does the creator not rise to claim this magnificence? I would have just stood at Times Square with a placard with a billboard running at the back, saying ‘I did this!’. Someone chooses to be extremely humble towards their creation or considers us irrelevant to his presence. Who gives a damn, I then think!

They came, they were wished upon and they just faded away. Do wishes really come true? I am too
much of a cynic now to understand the nature of this naivety, but I do my share of wishes even now - habits. I feel they are really calming. Whenever these little meteors or shooting stars spark, for the bare milliseconds they were visible, there is this rush of a childlike animation inside of me, a quick rush of hope. Hopeful as they sound, these little morsels, remnants of the creators refinement of the world, are a deceptive bunch. You would expect them on a tough day and they never turn up. But that’s the beauty of the night sky, the window to a world infinitely more beautiful than the speck of dust that we ignorantly reside upon.

I thank my mother & her naivety to show me that there could be humility in ignorance to be able to just observe, humility in giving up to learn more, humility in acceptance of a larger force that drives our existence. The night sky is my measure of sanity, my totem[1]. And thanks to my Dad, who toiled to ensure a beautiful home & thus our basic naked-eye observatory, our terrace is a humble but immeasurably valuable boon and one of my lives most treasured belongings.

This piece has been 6 years in the writing and what it took to complete was a simple vacation.

[1] totem: a natural object or animal that is believed by a particular society to have spiritual significance and that is adopted by it as an emblem.

The Little Prince of Tinsel Town - Part 2: Arjun - the Contender

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sat, 18 Jul 2015 09:26:00 +0000

Continued from ...

Some marbles from an earlier game, Arjun had started, lay lazily inside the circle drawn for the game. In the background one child intently looked, while Arjun collected & cleared all the marbles in the circle, reminiscing at all the marbles he lost in the match that he had wrapped up with Arjun just prior to Arya reaching the game area.

For both Arya & Arjun, the game of marbles was an important part of who they were. Cricket & other common games seemed too insignificant to their marble player identities. For them, the game required individual precision, which seemed a much more challenging task like the games of tennis or badminton. Although both were exceptionally technical players of cricket & football, here they had something more - an arch-rival, someone who they defined their identities around. Legends were drawn against their rivalry often. One legend says, Arya & Arjun kept at a match of marbles for 18 hours at a stretch, and yet none of them could be a winner when suddenly Arjun pulled an impossible shot and won.

Arjun was 8, was no rookie & knew he had the experience advantage over Arya. Arjun could be likened to Batman, with his dark demeanour & deep entrancing eyes. He could switch from an endearing, flamboyant playboy to a supremely focussed and horror inducing vigilante. There always seemed to be two sides to Arjun. He took every challenge as was his last. He tended to dance on the souls of every contender because he had never lost. Every shot he took, ate a part of his contenders soul. With every marble he earned, his life force grew larger and larger.

Though dark as he may sound, Arjun had his reasons. His father & a younger brother was all he had. His mother took ill after his younger brother was born and passed away. Void of a mother’s touch & a younger brother to take care of. Arjun grew up as a bit of a hard-ass, in an attempt to prove him selves strong and not needing aid. Although, his father was caring but because he had to drag him selves through two jobs to keep the house & his children’s education going, he was barely available to Arjun & his brother. Arjun never took to feeling alone, he chose to be strong for his father & brother.

When Arya said, “Let's play!”, Arjun felt different, he knew this was not one of his regular inconsequential contenders. Arjun knew he had to raise his game. Arjun responds to Arya’s confident attack cautiously, “Let’s just chose to remember how incapacitated I was able to make you feel the last game we played!”

(To be continued ...)
Next: The Game begins ...

The Little Prince of Tinsel Town : Begins

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Wed, 15 Jul 2015 14:32:00 +0000

A wooden sword in hand, cape tied on, Arya woke up from a difficult night of sleep. He immediately knew what he had to do today, doubt evaded him. The glimmer in his eye could have inspired soldiers to win wars or dinosaurs to nuke the meteor that killed them. He felt as if he was born just today and with a singular purpose.

His mother, with a glass of milk in hand, was his biggest obstacle now. He jumps to the left & then to the right, holding his cape & covering his face, his mother skips to stop him in his path each time. But alas, a mother’s persistence could beat acts of God to pulp, and he was but a mere child. He gives up and gets the glass of milk from her. Half a glass down and there is a knock on the door. It was Shabaaz, his comrade & closest friend, exactly the person he needed to win the war he woke up today to fight.

Arya & Shabaaz have been friends since they were 4, rarely left each others side and as inseparable as Batman & his mask. Half the milk down his shirt & another half gulped down, Arya wipes his mouth and tackles his mother one last time successfully, rushing now gallantly towards his ally. Arya & Shabaaz looked at each other, they were warriors, so they just knew what the other had to say and tacitly agreed that they had to win today.

They rushed. Capes fluttering in the wind, dust dispersing hither & thither under their feet, in unison. At 7, you would think that having such clarity in what Arya needed to achieve was unimaginable. While, the other boys engaged in foolery, he preferred spending his time practicing his favorite game, Kancha or Gotti, as some call it. As simple as a game of targeting marbles with fingers sound, there is a high level of precision and mastery required to target a less than 1cm radius sphere at another that's around a meter away. The images in Arya's head, as he approached the game huddle, were only about his practice sessions.

They finally arrive.

“Hold on to your marbles!” Arya says.

A group of children, aged 5 to 10, huddled around a roughly drawn circle on a barren floor, were startled by this roar like the noise that resonated inside their heads. They turn around and there stands our prince. The scene was perfect and just out of Arya’s favourite movie - Krrish. His cape flowing in the light breeze and total silence that had just encompassed around him. The children cleared up space for Arya and he stepped forward. Now he was looking straight down at the screaming eyes of his arch enemy and rival marble player, Arjun.

“I was waiting for you, Arya. What’s with the cape, wanted enough clothes to cover you face when you lose today.” Arjun said, mockingly.

The sledging had started. This day was big, as big as an Australia versus England Lord’s test match or as thrilling as Federer versus Nadal on the clay court. Today was the day, the Kancha match between Arya & Arjun would be written in the history books of Tinsel Town in red. Arya was planned to take the sledging with apt responses of his own. He knew that a winner is always prepared.

Arya looks intently into Arjun’s eyes and says, in the boldest tone he could muster, with the slightest lisp in his voice he could not grow out of, “The world is not big enough for the both of us, its you or me today. Let’s play!”

(To be continued...)
What do you think about Arya? Leave comments. :)

Click here for Part 2: Arjun - the Contender

To be or not to be Child, is an Important Question

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 12 Jul 2015 17:59:00 +0000

Will you still love me
When I’m no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will
I know that you will
Will you still love me when I’m no longer beautiful?

~ Lana Del Ray, Soundtrack - The Great Gatsby (Lyrics)

Think about someone you love, think about the precise moment you fell in love with them or realised how important they were to you. That moment of lucidity, when you knew there they are and nothing can take the moment away from you. We go through our lives rarely experiencing such moments of clarity & pure elation. A moment of childlike naivety & deeply ingrained sense of faith that things are just going to be perfect. A moment when judgement, the future and survival did not matter. Then you see children who live in a similar state of lucidity, always about constantly moving forward & always in love - giving without reason, and getting attached without reason. And then you are jealous of them & cannot help but reminisce - if I could just turn back time! So, the question for me was, can we live like them?

For children, play never requires a spot, happiness does not require an object of a specific measure, gratification in just the doing of anything is enough.

For children, play never requires a spot, happiness does not require an object of a specific measure, gratification in just the doing of anything is enough. Who would not wish to live that bit again, but then why can you not be like a child now? Why not love someone because you feel like it and not fear what the world thinks of your kind of love & also not fear the judgement that comes associated. Why not be a child - when you take the wrong road and not be annoyed that you made a mistake. Why not be a child - when you find that it's raining and not be worried that you could be late to work & just get drenched.

Then I think, how can I keep living in that moment of childlike lucidity, where there is no pain and no haste?

I was a weirdly content kid with no real friends to talk about. Looking back, I was well off without any friends, no regrets. As a child, I had two such moments of lucidity. The first was the times when I used to go for random walks that became sprints, with no target distance on an empty road, for the love of it. The second was the times I used to just sit in the middle of a playground and there was no one for long distances, munching on my favourite piece of material pleasure - A Snickers bar. Coming back to adulthood, "state defined", I felt this childlike sense in writing and completing a writing piece - one that was not defined by any literary structures, construct or refinement but coming out the desire to let it be. I started typing this piece and could not stop for hours together until I completed what I wanted to write. I haven’t written like this for 4 years now and let me tell you I am really enjoying this. Then I think, how can I keep living in that moment of childlike lucidity, where there is no pain and no haste?

If you noticed, in my exploration of what being childlike meant, I have not used happiness. I have realised that happiness is an adult construct, for good or bad- you decide. An attempt to control the status quo - forcibly adhering to rules, defining objectives or a path that will lead to some state of happiness. There, I believe, exists our biggest misconception of adult life, that the pursuit of happiness towards a day when the absence of pain is our purpose in life. Then you look at children, again, and realise that they are not distressed about the absence or the mere possibility of pain. They run without the fear of tripping or even engage with complete ease with a stranger & have fun in it. They engage in these tasks with insatiable craving & unquestionable focus. If you Watch Master Chef Australia Kids, you get what I am saying; there is a near absence of doubt. And then I ask myself, is it even possible to reach there?

I have realised that, like children look at the world, there only is the now & a hopeful ROI - return on investment, on doing things worth the pain to obtain a result.

Just like there is no darkness and only a lack of light, quite similarly, I feel there can never be too much happiness or too much pain. I have realised that, like children look at the world, there only is the now & a hopeful ROI - return on investment, on doing things worth the pain to obtain a result. It would have been apt if like children we could move without fear of potential pain, but we can at least try. And so like the song by Lana Del Ray that I started with, the naivety and blind faith that the girl hopes for, the unconditional love she gives in hope of return, is how we should all be - Childlike!

So, close your eyes & go back to the time when you played, not because someone told you to or when you had to ask for it. Go back to the time when there was no fear of pain & yearning for comfort in the status quo. Do something like a Child, why not be naive & content for your own sake! I am sure going to.

Our Dawn is Now!

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Fri, 04 Apr 2014 07:30:00 +0000

Pretext: This poem is about the period of flux that our nation is experiencing today. A humble attempt at capturing the theatre of the yudhbhumi - a clean & strong India . This poem is dedicated to the indefatigable spirit of many of my friends, the volunteers of the Aam Aadmi Party & all my fellow Indians who seek a better India.

Sharpen your courage, strengthen your arms!

There is a fire blazing – insatiable, unrelenting.

Can you smell the fear - rats running amuck, snakes spewing venom!

There is a throbbing in the air - an uprising is here.

The ground beneath has broken. Pale in fear,

There is a sullen horde, running for cover.

Pale in fear, with pared strides – their quiver, our pride.

When it started, a few men had the audacity - to question.

Today we have the fist - to break bad.

Time has come – now, we take back our nation!

The water cannons, the guns, the lathis – could not stop

An idea - whose time has come. An idea about freedom,

An idea about ownership, An idea about will.

Humble candles we lit, the many nights on the streets,

Ignored, they were, as passing displeasure.

The plight of those who did - today they squirm.

We stand today to give our due, in lieu

Of the many men that stood for us, years back.

For the children that inherit our places, as we rest.

I am just returning – my due, & you yours. For there is no war,

More correct; No blood is shed here, only truth enraged.

There is sweet pain! But, the spirit is content.

Our battle has only begun, our dawn is now!

PS: Its been a while since I have written a poem, around 3.5years precisely. I took this as a period of introspection, a period to identify where I fit in the larger scheme of things. Today, I believe I have more clarity & so this poem.

We live in Unromantic times …

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 20:22:00 +0000

When was the last time something MAGICAL happened to you? ...

The twinkling eyes of surprise, honest eagerness, the midnight oil, the elation of possession of something awaited or the presence of a loved one and all those little things that made everyday feel like a romance with life, are lost somewhere. These are for sure unromantic times! These are times when we fail to remember the last time we felt things were magical enough to make us feel reality as only a passing and that there is something greater and better.

I wish I could be there on spring afternoons when eager children awaited the keeper to go off sight, to break into a protected mango orchard, armed with self-made catapults & stones. Mango trees with branches heavy of ripe fruit - a bright pleasant sight - struck free of their weight by the children who then devour the mangoes – a fresh yellow & green.

My fervent heart fantasizes the times when love letters and stolen moments captured in poetry were treasured as memoirs of great displays of affection between lovers. Times of Shakespeare, Keats & Ghalib. Moments that were passed on over generations as models of how love could be a candle in the dark. I envy those times when distance could churn a deeper sense of affection in lovers than break it.

There was time when the theatre & films were the primary inspiration of the lives of many; where they searched for inspiration to churn realities. Long queues and journey’s after, the pleasure of the plain two-tone printed paper – the ticket, shone like gold. To engage elated in the elaborate states of fiction where death evaded the hero as the mother’s devotion infallible protected him and he always got away with the best woman.

I look for inspiration into a time, when there were no politicians, but were leaders &/or legends who inspired masses with nothing but pure will. Those who made death feel like rebirth. They were men & women who could not be stopped by the many things that could arrest mortal souls in their steps. Almost divine their presence could awe all and sundry to action in blind faith.

We live in such unromantic times where the magic is lost. The inspiration is lost. There is pain, doubt & ignorance that disturbs us and takes us away from all that is and could be magical with our lives. There is a growing space in my heart for those lost & simple but magical moments. I only pray now that I could find a few of my own and you could find yours.

Let’s make life more romantic!

~ Arun Raj ~

~ Pursuit of Love ~

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 19:30:00 +0000

Oh blessed are thee, those hurt in love.
Of journey’s done in the pursuit of happiness
This be the noblest of them.

~ Arun Raj ~

Images from Krista - Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist

~ Dancing for Wings ~

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 17:29:00 +0000

I danced until my heart cried
Praying wings for my feet – they pained.
Awaited now the flight.

~ Arun Raj ~

~ Sweet Pain of Love ~

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:51:00 +0000

So blue my heart of the pain of love,
That the red of my blood turns green
In the envy of its displeasure !

~ Arun Raj ~

~ Spirit Free ~

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 15:49:00 +0000

I bathed in the light of a thousand candles.

To yellow to white and to gas I turned.

And now free of my body at last;

I can fly beyond my human boundaries cast.

~ Arun Raj ~
March 16, 2010

Image Credits - Richard R Young

Pictures - Friends lost, Love found

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 19:57:00 +0000

Some pictures of a past
Long behind - stand out!
Of friends, lovers & moments
Set apart by time, captured in Pictures.

A cup of tea, a shared smoke,
A cake smudged across faces,
T-shirts worn alike or the cheap hang-outs
We spent time at - all shine clear now.

Oh younger we were
As babies, brothers, sisters and
Trying Teenagers.
Unbound, unfolding like an intense book.

Tears find the corners of the eyes
Like a puppy to its ball.
An overwhelmed heart
Pumps out emotions lost.

The age of each picture evident
In pecks of dust gathered,
The crumbles on some
And the tear on others.

Our faces growing older
The signs of age taking over.
People in our arms changing
But not the love we share.

Some love of a past
Long behind - comes back!
Of friends, lovers & moments
Set apart by time, captured in Pictures.

~ Pushku (Arun Raj), 17.08.2010 ~
Dedicated to Shiju, Jikku, Pappi, Jestin, Lisha, Ashi & Albert who know me best as 'Pushku' - Love you guys :)

A Woman I knew

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 13:01:00 +0000

I once knew a woman.
Light as a feather she tread;
Watching every stone underneath,
As she took each step
Lost in the delight
Of watching her own steps take flight.

I once waited for her
On a busy street – eager.
Around the corner I keep watching;
A minute – a decade, and
A second – a year, it feels,
But time had lost its purpose.

I once sat with her – listening keen;
Of poets living from the pages
Of books – worn, and words – animate.
My time was now a machine;
Tick-tock it did. But my heart – anew,
Sang to me – ‘The beginning, the end is all here!’.

I once sat to write a song about her.
I strung a few words together, on a stray paper.
And I wished they felt fit in her tribute.
But they ran away – insecure!
Into a jungle of memories;
All they send back was – Special!

I once sat with her across
A table - uneasy between us!
Something in her sent me fetching
Each time I looked at her.
As if my words eloped
With her singing spirit.

I once walked alongside her
In loops around – as no end seemed right.
How much we wished
Each moment stood &
Each tingle we felt evaded time.
Oh, how little we knew each other!

I once had to say goodbye.
Some say I cried & others say I laughed
When I had to leave her behind.
I wished hardest then;
To stop my broken heart's leak!
But goodbyes evaded me.

I do wish now that we could do it all again
The endless roads, the poets forlorn,
The lost time & the busy streets;
Her hand in mine!
With a passing gale now I wish to it -
Take me along to her - that Woman I knew!

~ Arun Raj - 15/08/2010 ~
Dedicated to a special lady

Photo by rsplatpc

A New Era of Matrimony

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Tue, 25 May 2010 04:56:00 +0000

Aakanksha Singh, 24/05/2010

It's raining marriages recently, 16th may Delhi records ~20K marriages, Mumbai was far ahead with ~50K wow! I wonder, if all these marriages are trademark heaven, how busy god might have been with the task of paring the perfect ones, because looking at the preparations here surely Earthians drill every nook and corner of the marriage commodities market.

Away from the flashy lights, a peek into the groom-bride hunt is a tiring journey in the service class community. The search is dominated caste (to be understood), family status followed by right age, educational qualifications, job status and security, physical compatibilities of skin color to boy-girl height ratios etc etc - initial screen test passed. The next scene unfolds "meeting of the prospective couple", an affirmative nod implies background search of the boy (inquiring at work place to get a general ans). Merrily the families come together and propose the marriage budget. Common middle class rates are 20-25 lakhs (the girl's family sheds it, strictly for marriage preparations), backed by phrases of "parivar ki izzat ka sawal hai" "rishtedor ka aise mauke par khayal na rakhe ge to kab" "apki beti jab hamari hui to hamari ijjat bhi to apke haath mein hui, bas aur kya chaiye". The bundles of loans, Debt from friends, relatives follows. Becuase to be true, the girls parents earnings were spent on her education and managing the house, and whatever the parent could save has lost the value in today's modernized society. And apart from money, you can only be hopeful that your to be spouse meets the bare minimum criteria to understand you as an individual.

This materialization and commercialism of relation of the present days has left more than a few in a flux, they cannot bring themselves to be a part of the arranged (its fixed rather) setup, and hardly have any alternatives to look for , where parents concerns as well as their like-mindedness form the base of a relation giving money a backstage.

A few years back i wanted to help my friend, advice her as to what alternative could be, and i had no clue, and the situation occurred couple of days back with another of my friend. Having seen 25-30 years of life, it warms the heart to be able to hold hands with a companion for life, today we base our thinking on realistic dreams, the Cinderella story tales are over. sensible, self made, self morals and principles, an outlook to life and the mindset to deal with it are a part of what we are today. Now if in these times i am only looking for a like-minded guy or girl to spent the rest of my life and if Pre-marriage love didn't flourish in my life, do i have to bring myself to adhere to a system with is difficult to get under my throat.

Some of us are faced with this question, but hardly with any moderate alternates as in if not the same caste than maybe an acceptable one to the family but a person on my thinking lines. Seems too much to ask for. we are aware that the confluence to 2 different personalities calls for adjustments, up-downs/disagreements difference of opinions are a part and parcel but with equitable mutual respect and a sense of understanding is appreciable too. And if that's there, i guess why to lash out so much money, we can convince family going through a rigmarole with them and if not at least device a way by taking shared responsibility on our (the engaged couple) shoulder's rather than burdening one's parents alone.

Hence, the idea of why not to bring up a platform for mutual arrangements for people who are more of true socialists, and those who want to be initiators of this social change but rather do not find an accessible medium for actually bring it into their lives. Thinking on these lines, why not we take up the task of associating with matrimonial sites, magazines, newspapers for bringing up sections where the profiles are browseable based on off beat track, and on similar lines we form up our own group, promote in families, friends, work place etc etc and create it ourselves.

~ Aakanksha Singh (A volunteer from AID NOIDA Chapter)

Love has come!

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 08:00:00 +0000

One too many light-years it felt but,
A silent drought just gave way;
To a burst of misplaced happiness!

A wind blew under my feet, tickling
My failing senses amuck with sensations
I thought lost & past revival.

To spread arms and seeking to embrace each breathing
And non-breathing gift - God’s mischiefs,
Wished a heart that took to steps of its own!

An orchestra - Violins, Bass & grand Pianos,
Leave their stern conductors, to take a stance
With the flutes, clarinets & trumpets in tango.

The percussion, to its soul notes played
Free of their maestros, in a rhythm unheard;
To match each splashing drop of the impulsive rain that begun.

As the world around took to its random heart steps
The Gods gift the sun-pleasured earth with
A stray shower sparkling in tints of pink roses & tulips yellow.

A stubborn bolt of lightning, finds its way
Through a lazy dark cloud, to the middle;
And skid haplessly in the acoustic trance of the percussion.

Smitten and their workday un-mind, a few passerby -
Embracing a lost rhythm in them, flaunt
A forgotten drift in their own songs.

The loved, lost & the have-nots alike walked
Along me in a symphony alive; shaking off the mundane,
The withered & the worn; born to a fresh heart.

I look over my shoulder to find,
A fallen leaf – still fresh from its tree’s song,
Jiggles away with no fret of its impending demise.

I feel a pyre – dancing in a bright yellow flame,
Setting off the lost to ash, taken away in a rootless
Stream steered confused by the fallen bolt of lightning.

And so came love - back to me – back
As a spark and left me claiming excited -
Love has come!

Celebrating my most treasured Women : Part 3(i)/3 – Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 15:56:00 +0000

As some wise people have said, ‘Friends are family you get to chose!” I can stand testimony to this and claim that some of my closest friends are as good as Family to me. And above this, a Woman as a friend tends to be more to both man or woman than just a passing commentator on what you should do and not do. They take up every role that can be thought of – as the cushions that support your fall, as a mother that cares for you, as a sister who stands by you no matter what & a friend that fights for you.

These here are few Women whom I respect for their abilities to spread hope, love and yet stand unfazed through difficulties.

Rupa Bidap – Counsel, Great Friend & Cynic Extraordinaire

This irreverent petite lady packs quite a punch and can easily be passed on as irrelevant, but that is until she speaks her mind out. Her calculated irreverence has the strength to overwhelm any opponent that comes within her ring of fire. Making her the perfect person to set the sails of senses into you!

Life has made her tough as a stone but her womanly sensitivity lies dormant and takes expression unlike any other human being. She takes to counsel, direct or support for you, from her refined sense street smartness. She is the quintessential self-made woman, unfazed by the very things that effect normal people.

Sonia Singh – Friend, Big Sister & sometimes Mother

We met as part of my volunteer activities with our Project – AID Prayas around 2 years and our friendship grew as if we were destined to meet. The session that defined our friendship was one where we were interrogated for a bombing attempt in a mall in NOIDA. Its true and you can read about it here !

Sonia, I am sure was designed to and will become a great Mother one day. This lady is a classic example of the perfect Mother – exceedingly caring, asks you what exactly you want to have and gets it prepared for you, sits to listen to you, keeps reassuring that everything will be alright, sets your blanket for you at bedtime & tells you to keep your shoes outside the house and wash your feet.

Both these women being demanding professionals are respected by team-mates, partners & friends alike. They are known for their focused, reliable and assertive approach. Ambitious but still close to their essence of being a Woman (at least in the classic definition).

Arun Raj

PS: Its taking me time to close this bit. Part 2 of this finale post is in the writing, will try to finish it the next few days. :)

Celebrating my most treasured Women: Part 2/3 – The Fighters of AID Prayas

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 08:43:00 +0000

Working at Prayas I have seen my share of instant gratification searching individuals. But then there have been a few people who I have worked with in the past 3+ years tenure as a volunteer for AID Prayas, whose work and value cannot be justified by words. Today on Women's day I would like to highlight some individual ladies without whom Prayas as it is today would not have been so.

These ladies have all the basic traits of any woman - Compassionate, Caring, Devoted, & yet much more.

Charu Garg

This write up is going to give her the shock of her life but this really what i think of her.

All the arguments and nonsense talk that we do apart, I have seen this lady grow in devotion to the children of Prayas and also shown a keen but dispassionate & balanced position for the activities at Prayas. Without much talk and all action I am floored by the self-driven motivation she has under the pressures she face from home and parents.

Linkan Subudhi

This one is a fighter lady. With a heightened sense of self-awareness, she can be arrogant but yet with clarity on her position. She can fearlessly pickup fights to fix the wrong while being aware of her individual limitations.

Like the other ladies at Prayas her devotion to date is unshakable and unquestionable. Strong, independent and self-motivated, this is the way I believe all women should be.

Anuradha

Oh my God ! If you know this lady you would agree with me that the phrase 'Gift of gab' should be rewritten as 'Gift of Anuradha'.

I have known her for 3years now and she has not changed one bit. Talk about self-satisfaction at such a young age. This tanker of humor and unbridled energy has the very important task of keeping the energy levels high at our team meetings and sessions at Prayas.

I would also go to the extend to say, she single-handedly did turn around Prayas at one point.

Aakanksha Singh

I have to agree that I don't know her too well, but I am impressed by the way she has taken up the more under-understood tasks at Prayas and is driven and focused on it. It is always difficult to take the initiative towards the path less-trodden. Mostly soft-spoken, but the words I get to hear about her perspectives on social issues and working of Prayas I feel all the more proud that we have had the honor of working with such an individual.

The mettle and devotion shown by these ladies are highly commendable and are worthy of every praise that can be showered on them.

I salute you Ladies!

[NOTE: The ordering of names above has no relevance. :P]

Celebrating my most treasured Women - Part 1 – Mom & Sisters

noreply@blogger.com (Arun Raj) — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 19:19:00 +0000

For me 0.001% is still hope that there is a chance of a better tomorrow. This Women’s day I wish to raise a toast and shower my adoration to the women that have given me this hope, stood for & by me as an angel when I needed support and taught me compassion.

In this first part, I wish to let my hearts love flow out for my Mother & my two lovely sisters - the most important people in my life. This series of adoration will have two more parts - one for some individual women who have influenced who I am today and have been close to me and the third part will cover a few my favorite & inspiring ladies of Prayas.

My Mother

Oliver Wendell Holmes quote:
~ Youth fades; love droops; the leave of friendship fall, A mother's secret hope outlives them all. ~

Unlike the many ephemeral / passing statements of hope that we receive in our moments of low, as Oliver Wendell rightly states in his quote, a mother’s silent hope and devotion stands tall and gets us through the drear and dreads of life.

My mother’s reassurance during some difficult times and her warm arms that I could retire to when I return home has taken me through the many heartbreaks of life. Her smile has an elixir effect on me every time I think about it, and I miss her every moment she is not around.

My Sister’s mock her when Mom tells them that she heard me calling out to her, when I am not at home. To add, one of the best moments of my life that I keep recollecting and feel blessed are the ones when I return home and call out to my Mom, ‘Mummy !’, as I reach the gate at our home in Kerala. And then she comes rushing out with a smile – undemanding, grateful & finally at peace! Life, could not be better!

My two lovely sisters – Veena & Vidya

Deborah Moggach’s quote:
~ Whatever you do they will love you; even if they don't love you they are connected to you till you die. You can be boring and tedious with sisters, whereas you have to put on a good face with friends. ~

Mom’s devotion & innocence seems to have rubbed off on both them; at least mostly. They have taken from Dad a deep sense of sincerity to friendships and relationships they make. A great mix, as you may agree, for making a compassionate and caring individual.

To add to that is a dash of independence that they have grown to possess. Especially now after 3 years of being in college and with the many challenges that colleges offer from roadside Romeos, tight string pocket money budgets, reasoning with Dad & Me to go for trips, etc.

I see and wish deeply that these two women become into more than just somebody’s wife or just another person. I pray that they become able to make strong decisions not just for themselves but also be able to guide and support others.

Happy Women's Day to all Mothers & Sisters !!

The Plight of war !

noreply@blogger.com (Raj) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 08:28:00 +0000

Times of Unhope and distress spread wide,
When breaketh loose, hell’s Mistress on Earth’s crust.
While many action-less, uncouth in passion to lace our souls,
She reigns and maims bodies and souls.

The mistress of hell declares to have achieved a feat,
With her command over lay souls, she defeats
Sometimes true souls in light of Love and Faith,
With her warriors Distrust, Deceit, Pride and Greed.

What began as a bout of a common ego,
Takes a trip that severs ties across obscure boundaries. Some go
To the fields of fray on the whims of others,
Convinced of a better tomorrow with the end of another’s.

Layman ignorance of many a low soul
Have been cause for one too many a gaping hole.
A generation maimed but breathing, in the terror of a moment
Lost in time but scarred in permanence; for another – indifferent!

The plight of War is now one chance to prove,
What for one is Truth and what another may disapprove.
But in this toil between the Mistress and Truth
Be aware though, doeth innocent souls suffer the wrath.

Praying Peace - Arun Raj

[Note: This poem was written around the first year, in 2005, when I realized I could write. It won me a third prize, that I shared with three others, in a college poetry event. A humble beginning, but was a light of hope for me. Hope to be useful with my words going forward. Thanks for following & your honest inputs :) ]

A Woman’s Persuasion

noreply@blogger.com (Raj) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 20:12:00 +0000

Her curls stranded in fidgety fingers
“Your words by no means pardon deserve.”

He takes her arm – reluctance showing,
“My words match not my heart’s pleasure.”

Her qualm reserve striking a frown,
“Your failing resolve is my heart’s displeasure.”

He to goes down on his knees - in a light laugh,
“Bequeath your heart - unto me, & I pledge otherwise.”

A ray of light settled her eyes to a long blink,
“So you promise – to never let me down?”

Raising himself, his eyes – sparkling in hope,
“To my best breath – till it lasts with strength!”

She stood along in a silence,
“There is a meaning to the words I say.”

And He - in his pleading best.
“Hidden in that evasive smile of yours.”

In a claiming stance, she holds his arms,
“And in every word I wish the audience in you.”

- Arun Raj

Note: The woman always has the last word.

Eve teasing (Indian Context) : Personal opinion

noreply@blogger.com (Raj) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 07:36:00 +0000

Eve teasing, as I see it, spans from simple eye-balling (staring), to more verbal confrontations and physical assaults. I see eve teasing, in the Indian context, as stemming from the sheer ignorance of the aam-Indian household's stigma about sex. The hypocritical nature of post-colonial Indian ideologies juxtaposed with globalization presenting alternative worlds to our 'conservative' junta, distorts the craving / need for understanding the most basic of our instincts – the need to breed, pure hormonal drives. The suppressing of such hormonal drives and not being able understand feelings I deem as a latent motivator to the expression of these drives through media like brothels, dance bars & eve-teasing. This instinctive drive making men vulnerable to such deep cravings and drives them to explore these feelings.

This craving is natural and equally certain to be possessed by men from the most refined families of the societies to the men of lowest end of income levels. It's just the expression that is different in different levels of men. In the former type of men, there is a standing fear of the consequences of expression of their instinctive drives and it out pours in more uglier forms* than the seemingly malignant expression of the latter type*. The former then train themselves towards suppression & thus towards more kinky & silent closed door affairs. The socially lower placed men are however free of most fears possessed by the higher level counterparts and under-informed of consequences their actions tending to more explicitly presentation of their feelings.

I agree to the fact that you find men from all levels of society are involved in a certain amount of eve teasing. But then, is it not noticeably more so from the men of lower income levels. Also, more so it is the younger lots that are again much more active in such expressions.

From this viewpoint, I feel that eve-teasing could be necessarily cured or corrected through band-aid activities like penalizing men that indulge in such activities or assaulting them in any manner. This I feel will have counter-productive implications such as the men needing to express their superiority by taking aggressive & ignorant views to the many laws try to suppress them. However, I would not deny the need for these laws but raise more attention to the rehabilitation & correction post the identification of people who break them.

In this light I would like to take eve-teasing as a subject that needs a more holistic approach that starts from having children being educated in such a manner to be respecting of their female counterparts, sex education becoming a compulsory subject, parents being counseled into talking to their children about the subject, correcting the existent methods of treating & rehabilitation od the law offenders and also use other more creative modes of spreading the message across to the people.

~ Arun Raj

* MMS Scandals, Molesting under the influence of alcohol or drugs, teenagers indulging in sex (Delhiites say 49-55% females have had sex before they are 18), etc.

** The thought is still incomplete & I am open to clarifications. There are many things I still need to frame into words that are missing here.