MUSINGS

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Ruminations...

Our hearts always go out to a fab speaker , but could we ever miss out on an intent listener who can hear us?

Friday, December 3, 2010

I Grew














I tasted life as it came
Big things happened in my small world
They showed me the enormous world around
I was overwhelmed by its enormity
And wanted to hold on to all things immense and itsy
To make my own world brimming

I held on to some rather firmly
Hoping that it'd stay
Taking care not to ail it with my strong grasp
It stayed on to bring in me the change
It shaped me, it prepared me
I felt ample in my modest world

But lo
I wasn't firm enough to hold on to
Every thing mighty that came my way
I could feel it slipping
And much as I wanted it to stay
It chose to say goodbye


I was aghast
I threw my arms around
But it had travelled beyond my fold
I felt sore
And longed for it to come back
Yet it rode on the wings of time
Never to  revisit

I clung on to the feeling it had gotten me used to
I felt my world shrinking
But could not allow myself to dwindle
I strived to keep myself afloat
And let the storm pass
I looked forward
And aspired for brighter tomorrows
For I believed that a single storm could not sink my raft

Behold
I smiled and my mien shone through the cloud
It was bright enough to radiate through the cloudy spell
As I endured and survived
I thrust myself forward to catch some sunshine

And in my journey learnt
That what is not mine
Was perhaps not meant for me
Or I did not strive for it
But I did work for what I have with me today

I felt copious once more
To arise in  my own small world
And felt gigantic to dwarf the colossal world
I learnt that to tower upon
I first needed to make myself one
And if I could allow you to rest your tired self upon me
My purpose in life lay fulfilled

Life is small
But I have emerged
In an immeasurable  world
I see a petty me soaring higher....

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The Muted Word

An expression is a written word that forms a part of the language that exists on paper, inscribed in ink. It can be calligraphed and worded to please the eye. Whether it has an existence in the soul, is not prime. It is a vision that eyes can see and a sound that ears can hear. The written word has an optical effect and is thus a spectacle to behold. It is an inscription that can be erased and rewritten, and this is what we call language.

Yet, there is an unwritten that fails to be expressed, that fails to be inscribed in the cognizable world of pen and paper. It is an intangible embodiment of the unspoken that dwells beyond its mortal existence. It is the voice that connects those who remain separated in time and space, utter a different word, yet speak a common language that unites them in what is called the language of the soul. They share a fundamental truth that seeks a depiction not in substance but presence, in a world that can be felt though not seen. This unwritten word 'speaks' a language that cannot be voiced, but is inscribed in the spirit of eternity. Sadly there are a few who can hear this language.....

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Self Seeker

In all my doings there can be no better critic of me than ME,myself....
My true being is the spotless mirror that I see myself in
If I am right, I value myself
My self worth is my moment of pride
My achievements showcase my abilities

When I err, I see myself  more human
In acquiescence, I see beyond myself
In vindication, I am empowered to uphold my beliefs
In kindness, I find my inner warmth so much to bear
That I share it with one who carries it not as a load but
as a treasure to be forever cherished

When I appear beautiful, I yearn 
To take the beholder on a journey into my soul
In love, I see his footprints on my soul
I let him be himself  but I am never,ever the same
When I hear music, I taste the food of love and play on

When I live a priceless moment, I encase it in my treasure chest
My treasure glows in the dark and 
I see a ray of light in my hour of despondency
I get up to ward off darkness with an inner thrust
only because I believe in myself

And now I see darkness as a precursor to a new day
That beckons me to move on
I strive to make the most of it
In my onward march I exist for myself
That supports lives that live apart from me, yet within me
Their joy is my wealth

I endeavour to nurture patience and forbearance
and weed out contempt and vice
With these in my stride
I am forever a seeker
My quest remains happiness
That flits just as I embark upon one...

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

20/10/2010

Even as 10/10/10 passes into the memory bank of the 2nd millenium and many reminisce about the blissful perfect 10,  here comes yet another day beaming with its unique occurrence of numbers...20/10/2010. Once again a glorious day to remember without the glories attached to it!

Friday, September 10, 2010

Paulo Coelho

Paulo Coelho: "Don’t think it can’t happen, because it can.//No pienses que no puede suceder, porque puede."


Ruby Sahay: Everything can happen, for nothing at all is impossible. But is it correct or rather ethical for certain things to happen? There is always a right time for the right thing to happen... whatever goes beyond should not have happened at all.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Paulo Coelho

Paulo Coelho: A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative ofthe brave.

Ruby Sahay: Very true! Often the exhibition of love is a highly calculated affair. Unlike love itself which just happens naturally and remains unconditional,it's expression is often very challenging . The fight and the actual test of love lies in it's expression and not in the experience.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Paulo Coelho

Paulo Coelho: "Enjoy the questions and forget the answers."
Ruby Sahay: Questions remain unchanged,it's the answers that travel with time. It is for this reason that one looks for answers and the same question weighs lighter when the answer to it carries weight. Moreover, while question remains objective, answers go subjective. The lessons of life are learnt from the answers and not the questions that ask.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Paulo Coelho

Paulo Coelho Each man has a feminine side, and each woman has a masculine side. It is necessary to use discipline with intuition, and to use intuition objectively.









Ruby Sahay One does realise the importance of discipline in life. However, it is interesting to note that intuition too needs to be disciplined. Such an intuition perhaps arises from doubt, fear or despondency. But does it remain intuition at all? The human mind is capable of suppressing love, fear, anger and doubt. Does it ever learn to recognise intuition? For if it were so, nothing much could ever go wrong!





In 'The Alchemist' you have most rightly said "Because people become fascinated with pictures and words, and wind up forgetting the Language of the World"...Doesn't the 'Language of the World' come from intuition? This universlal language is never taught, it comes from within, it dwells in your soul.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Ruminations...16th June 2010





Life's Antithesis....


You stumble once, and they say there's a next time. Yet, certain knockings are heard just once. Youneed to answer them right for there may never be a next time.

Moments come and go, but impressions last forever, sometimes to create, sometimes to resurface as memories. Yet, it is in the moment that one lives, and some of the fondest moments in our lives appear in a flash, but leave their glow forever. We may not grow by them but treasure them to brighten up our darkest hours.

Darkness is transient, and as we strive to emancipate, the need for restraint is greater. Any liberation is valued when it exists within bounds. Thus, with every sovereignty there comes a defined set of steps. There is the world to forge in but the goal is marked, and the paths are chalked.

.........further on, there lies a mirage. The oasis is right around you. The need is to discover, cultivate and flourish.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Ah......!! It's She Again

My husband and I shared a wonderful companionship until she came and tainted it with her dreaded omnipresence. During the years of blissful togetherness that we once lived, I had every reason to believe that I mattered to him above everything else. But now, as unpleasant as it gets, for no fault of mine, I have come to realise that if there’s anything that captures his attention, no matter where he is, it is she and she alone. Her ubiquity truly exasperates me.

Much as I despise her, she has successfully managed to intrude upon our sacred space and contaminate our lives that once thrived on spending quality time with each other. It all started with networking and the innumerable contacts one establishes at work and beyond. It was his work that introduced my workaholic husband to her and since then things have never been the same. Much to my grief and disappointment, he and she are now inseparable.

I notice in him the deep urge to connect with her the moment he leaves his bed in the morning. Often when he returns home after a long day at work, I greet him with the warmest hug and she invariably pings him at such times. He, then conveniently crawls to the quietest corner of the house and talks tirelessly with her while I grudgingly attend to the ritual of preparing a strong coffee for him. My deep, hidden desires have often been to pour the steaming liquid on her gleaming body, but I don’t think I shall ever get myself to do that and even if I do , that’ll be the end of my wifely status.

Even the kids, whom he dotes upon, do not dare to go to their dad when he’s with her. Now, I rarely receive his undivided attention, yet whenever I ever do, I try talking to him about his distraction but it is a vain effort and he often gags me retorting sharply that she is his lifeline. His words evoke in me a devilish urge to hurl her down the 25th floor of the building that I live on.

Things have now become so blatant that even at public gatherings and parties, he holds her gently, protectively, and audaciously moves with her to a remote corner whispering softly into her ear, oblivious of the crowd. Matters have taken a plunge ever since I’ve discovered her on our bed a few times.

In the ensuing lamentation , I have managed to put up a brave front and haven’t ever spoken about her even to my closest friends. Any advice from them will be obviously  to ignore her and keep myself engaged more and more in my own work. Yet, each time I see her petite frame in her resplendent black garb and shiny black jacket, the agony is too much to bear.

However, after much introspection, I have now come to accept the fact that she and I have to coexist. She is as much a part of my husband’s life as I am. For, though I am his life partner, it is she who holds his world together. I also know that he cannot do without either of us. Yet, folks if you have any suggestions or advice on helping me getting less vexed in her presence, do let me know. She, Ms Blackberry, the small, black, minuscule gadget that brings the world to him, anytime, anywhere, at the click of a button has surely infringed upon mine, that I share with the man who still means the world to me.

Technologically dejected
Painfully yours…….

Friday, April 30, 2010

Speckles of PWC on Facebook

Almost two decades ago when Patna Women's College celebrated its golden jubilee, I grabbed the opportunity to pen down a memoir of my stay in the hallowed precincts of my alma mater. The write-up along with numerous others, that spoke of the veritable place the college had earned in imparting education to women, found its way into ' Souvenir' the college magazine. Very soon I made my adieus to the glorious portal of this magnificent edifice. Little did I realise, that the advent of the internet which had then just begun in our country, would one day rekindle a few connections that seemed to be getting obliterated at that point of time, and would perhaps give me an opportunity to pour down my retrospection of some of the most splendid moments of my life.

As a member of the group PWC'91, I catch but just a glimpse of this wonderful piece of architecture on my page and reminiscence all that went on to edify an exuberant teenager into an entity that today manoeuvres the labyrinth of the huge, wide world with grit.

Visuals roll out in mind's eye as I go down memory lane. Anuradha Sinha (Sahay) and Anuradha Bajpai (Upadhya) walk into the Economics class bleary eyed, in flip flops, clutching their notebooks. Being boarders and living just a floor above the classrooms, they enjoy the privilege of taking power naps to endure a fifty minute session ahead. Sharing the seat with them is Bashishtha Banerjee (Bhatacharjee), turned almost a zombie, taking down each word of what Mrs Kumudini Sinha rattles out on the ' Marxian Theory '.Class over and our dear Bash is back to her cheery self spreading her infectious laughter all around.

A year on as we gather in room no 10 for a poetry session in English Literature, the gloom brought in by Alfred Lord Tennyson's verses is thankfully broken by Aradhadha (Pradhan) Prasad's pop-ups. Our fair lady can rightly enliven humdrum sessions with her own artistic sensibilities. Sharing the stage with Aradhana is Tanuja Shankar whose humorous and witty repertoire succeed in flipping composures into smiles, grins and laughter.

Outside the classroom, you are often greeted by Neeti Sahay's graceful smile. Priya (Jaipuriar)Roopshree's cool and sober looks affirm a budding psychologist. Aradhana Lal (Verma) strikes you with her beauty and poise, and how can you miss out Udita Sharan's magnetic charm or Jaya Singh's grace and dignity and the captivating chat sessions that one enjoys with her. The ever bubbly and voluble Rita Bose (Sinha) is loved by one and all. The highlights of the batch are Anvita Sharma (Singh) and Vijaya Singh with their bold, vivacious selves; the typically outgoing types.

Time runs its course and the girls soon graduate out of college carrying dreams of a brighter tomorrow and of course, the secret desire of meeting their own Prince Charming. The kaleidoscope of images that appear in a series of flashback, soon disappear. The present has taken over where these young girls have transformed into mature women. Relationship status has changed for all. There are several add ons. Priorities have changed, and each one has moved on with her life. Yet each woman has brightened up her respective domain with her virtues and radiance.

Today I sit in my cosy home that resonates with the voice of my teenage son and the squeals and laughter of my babydoll. As I share this warmth, I relive the peals of unsuppresable laughter that brought to life the otherwise cold room numbers 18, 10, 8 to name a few, at PWC, when we laughed loudly enough to be warned every now and then about the din that was consequently created.

I smile wistfully and realise that I shall have to be reborn to be a party to the laughter that even today fills up the cafeteria, common room and corridors of PWC, sans my own among them.

We have now moved to various places across the globe. It has probably been decades since we last interacted, but social networking in the virtual world has reunited us all. As we cruise the internet, the joys of chatting online with one another or clicking on to view pictures of the new families, is inexplicable. As the years have gone by, we've grown older, wiser, and a lot has changed....What remains unchanged is the spirit of friendship, the only factor to have grown younger or perhaps vibrant amidst the change. Eighteen years on, as I get to send birthday wishes to someone I hadn't forgotten altogether, yet hadn't ever hoped to meet, how can I stop myself from thanking Facebook for this delightful reunion.... We can march on, not just with memories but connectivity, as well !

Stupid Cupid


I do not remember been ever given a piece of jewellery by my husband on Valentine’s Day. He has perhaps not done the most preferred things that a man would usually do on this day. Probably, it must have been something unspectacular years ago, but nothing so razzle-dazzle that I can  recall. Yes, I have often texted amorous messages and given to him a 'few' romantic cards, and a text message or a card in return is what makes my day. However, what brings me to write this piece is my response to the glow that surrounds the market place with Valentine’s Day almost there. The day is so starkly marked with the exchange of valuable gifts, amazing dinners out and romantic breaks enjoyed by couples at exotic resorts. The hefty price one has to pay to express such a compassionate and poignant emotion, truly amazes me.

Well, I’m one of those who believe that neither does love needs a specific day to be expressed, nor does this fundamental emotion requires the almighty dollar to be at its aid. Blessed are those who can recognize the depth of the endearment in all its ingenuity, unpolished and unmixed form.  An effortless,  matter-of -course and spontaneous emotion that can  be expressed through mere words and deeds seeks validation in commercial terms? Well, I find it difficult to stomach that, or has the language of love undergone a transformation?

When I found my significant other, I realised I was growing each day in a relationship  that needed constant expression. I learnt that 14th February was yet another day to express one’s fondest emotions and to spend time with each other to celebrate one’s togetherness. Exchanging cards on this day has always seemed quite romantic to me. Going back to my younger days, I remember admiring love cards in card galleries and floating into fantasy land pondering over those lovey-dovey, syrupy messages. Nonetheless, today as I see hotels and restaurants announce attractive deals and exciting packages to woo potential Valentines, I find myself at odds with the commercialisation that surrounds the spirit of love. Would a bling ever bring to one the warmth that comes with chatting endlessly with each other over a cup of coffee? Think of it!

Having been fervidly in love all these years, the insight to discern emotions from riches grows sharper with every passing year. Without sounding cynical at all and with due regards to all out there whose studs or bracelets bear the hallmark of Valentines Day, I find myself a misfit in the ring that entwines ‘cupid and coins’. I often wonder if it is my years of togetherness with my mate that makes me so impassive to merchantry and business that surrounds Valentine’s Day in modern times. On analysis, however, I realize that it is the pansophy that comes with age and, that makes for a clearer discernment. Now I can specifically say that  while money can never be a yardstick for love that grows with time, yet it certainly allows one the plenitude and profusion that helps one celebrate life. And if you love life, you  nurture it with love alone.

However, today, in the sixteenth year of a wonderful wedlock, I do look forward to what Valentine’s Day has in store for me. A bouquet of red roses, a card, a text message or a delightful e-card with a personalized message, anything that substantiates his desire to be by my side. Can this ever be replaced with a pair of impersonal diamond studs or a glittering bracelet?

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Ruminations 15th March

Bread, utterly simple and ubiquitous, dipped in a batter of eggs, seasoned with salt and pepper and fried  to satisfy the most ordinary tastebuds, makes for a delectable snack.
How similar is life....simplicity and modesty dipped in humour, seasoned with good temper and conditioned to love almost anything that lives. Doesn't that make for a wonderful persona ?

Friday, April 2, 2010

Of Minds And Motifs

My boy, all of twelve years, came back from a birthday party and showed me his return gift with a befitting delight. I exhibited an equally fervid inquisitiveness to witness what my little one undid so impatiently. “Wow, Mom, it’s a chain with a lovely pendant. Shall I wear it right away?” Wide eyed, I glanced at the thing that gleamed, as it swung on suspension between his thumb and index finger. My own tastes and preferences, never allowed me to acknowledge the need for boys, as young as twelve, to be accessorized with anything that could pass off for jewellery. However, I winked at what lay before me, for it was a gift given out so fondly by the birthday boy himself. As my boy expressed the desire of sporting the chain, I intuitively took it from him and examined the pendant before giving my consent. My lad, still in his pre teens waited for my response, resentfully, however. A steel chain with a pendant that displayed a skull and cross bones nestled in the cup of my palm. I looked at the piece of adornment with horror and distaste and cringed at the thought of my bundle of joy wearing something that symbolized not life or anything analogous with it, but its distinct opposite. I succeeded in dissuading him from wearing it, but because it was a memento from a friend given on a day that he celebrated life, I allowed him to keep it in his treasure chest.

I knew exceedingly well that the image warned of danger, and wherever one saw it, one would steer clear of the area or the object that bore the hallmark. Yet, to me, it meant something greater than danger, it meant ‘death’. The symbol displayed on bottles of poison or electric boxes containing high voltage does certainly mean death of life.

Though I do not restrict myself with superstitions, dogmas and taboos, yet I am immensely taken in by the slightest images and objects that appear to be suggestive of larger details and ideas. While flowers are emblematic of happiness and red roses of love and passion, children symbolize hope and the rising sun stands for life, growth and prosperity. Similarly, owls and bats being nocturnal, typify sinister images and skulls and cross bones become equally insalubrious. This is most rightly why I never agree to possess an item of personal use that bears the mark of skull and bones. Much to his chagrin, my little boy, has discovered my disregard for anything and everything that bears this image of danger and death. To him and to all others, the figure perhaps stands for nothing more than, ‘Danger! Keep off '. Seeing it on an outfit will probably distract them to think that getting anywhere closer to the user would perhaps be disastrous. That is it. They would not comprehend any more. I guess I’m the oddball !!

Even though, we change and outgrow certain beliefs and notions, I have somehow felt incapacitated in abhorring morbid images and those that suggest negativity in any form, especially on items of clothing and personal use. Recently on a shopping trip, I agreed upon buying my son a pair of ash grey long shorts with black prints all over. I was happy to see him drool over something that looked ‘cool’. At the store, I did not quite notice the prints, but a closer look at home revealed the same skull and cross bones imprinted all over the garment. Unsettling, as it was for me, this time I prepared myself to look over, as the characters did not seem particularly striking. Besides, my boy would, in no way agree to return or change his choicest pick. I realised I had to interpret the figures differently from what theywere. As I tried doing so, after the distasteful discovery, they appeared a pattern that made little sense, but to my relief succeeded in giving up their morbidity for something abstract.

The week later as I shopped for tops, I fell in love with a black one that seemed to be tailor made for me. I showed it to my husband, my companion on the trip, with utmost glee. He liked it as much. As I tried the garment that fitted me to a T, I cast an enthused glance at the sole motif that embellished the front of the dress. I looked into the mirror in the trial room, but to my shock and dismay, noticed the same skull and cross bones that glared at me, as I adjusted the top, to have a better view of the motif. This time the character appeared all the more devilish as it lay encrusted in lustrous white stones on a black surface. I hastily changed back into my own T-shirt and wondered if at all I could pick up the piece that required me to display an image of death.

Meanwhile, I held on to my selection as I looked for other pieces in the store, but nothing whatsoever could convince me to acquire something that bore an image which seemed incongruous with the beauty and harmony that life meant to me. The smooth texture of the fabric, the cut and drape, ensnared me enough to consider the clothing a valuable addition to my wardrobe, but the motif succeeded in bringing about my disparagement for the same.

I decided against taking it, ultimately announcing my decision to my husband, about the item that had instantly elicited a ‘go for it’ from both of us the moment we had seen it. The reason clearly amused my husband in an odd, quaint way who did not wish to interfere with my decision.

I left the beautiful black garment on the billing counter, and as we left the store with our bag full of other purchases, I turned around to look at the black top for one last time. A young woman with a baby clinging to her bosom picked up the piece and looked at it approvingly. I’m sure she valued life as much as I did, and loved the little life that clung to her, in the same measure that I loved my boy. As she got the piece billed and left the store within minutes, I wondered what differentiated my perception from hers. Probably it all lay in one's mind, for what seemed rightly repugnant and ominous to me perhaps appeared promising and positive to her. Probably it amused her to think of the fact that she would effervesce a 'drop dead gorgeous' look in the outfit. Funnily enough, with the hostile adornment she could also ward off unwanted attention !

I am convinced that an image casts an impression in the mind, and vision and discernment travel from the eyes to the minds that read the concept.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Ruminations...30th March

P E R F E C T ! The utterance reflects your state of mind. P E R F E C T I O N, too reflects a state of mind, but this time the strife and struggle to delete just the last three letters ...ION from itself. Interestingly enough,a PERFECTIONIST is someone who aims for perfection but never grows up to say 'perfect !'

Monday, March 22, 2010

Ruminations...22nd March

By keeping facts obscure we achieve not an obscurity, but arrive at a spectacle that takes away the light of the day. Honesty goes miles and fetches rewards that are indeed priceless.....

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Ruminations...10th March

Some of the fondest moments in our lives appear in a flash, but leave their glow forever ! We may not grow by them but use them to brighten up our darkest hours ......

Monday, March 8, 2010

WOMEN: IN CELEBRATION OF STYLE AND VOGUE

Commercials on television channels, advertisements in magazines and newspapers and hoardings across cities are all abuzz with the style savvy woman who wishes to sport a striking look that will see her through her times. No other decade has ever seen such a dazzling array of style and glamour. Trend and fashion have always attracted women, but earlier when it all looked farfetched, a domain reserved for models, today its flavors have been incorporated by women in all spheres. The extent and degree of this incorporation may vary, in persons and societies, but there is a marked desire in the modern woman to break free from the norm, and let her fun side out to play the time in a bit of glamour. However, as modernity outruns the conventional and trend obliterates the passe, it is seen that there is a defragmentation of the traditional, that paves the way for novelty. The process, which is often insensitive to the valued, sadly sees vanity vanquishing modesty.

Feminism is indeed an eclectic blend of beauty and charm, coupled with grace and poise, embraced with a marvelous fearlessness in the face of adversity. The possessor of this unique ability to nurture and nourish all she touches, is after all, God’s own Eve in Paradise. For, as she yields herself, she becomes an yield, this time of the world of trends, glamour and lifestyle that effervesces with its varied objet d’art.

The emancipated woman, as she peeps out of her snug enclave, is conscious of her affinity towards all things bright and beautiful. There are times when vanity overrules her sincere pleasures of everyday living, and she finds it alluring to shed her plain Jane looks and adopt a style that compliments her. This is when her dresser desires leading brands like Estee Lauder, Givenchy, LancĂ´me, Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent. Her fashion books speak of Vinci, Gucci, Prada, Versace and Alexander MacQueen. As the professional fashionista swirls in her work wear or a casual evening wear, her style file remains incomplete without accessories from Aldo, Nine West or Louis Vuitton. Her fetish shoe collection gives her a stride that says she is good to rule. She gets gorgeous with sumptuous fragrances, delicate body lotions, invigorating shower gels and rich hand creams. As she finds it hard to resist those Chanel earrings, the Tiffany's love band or the Cartier watch, the shopaholic monster within her coupled with her heightened level of brand awareness literally pushes the modern day Eve into an addiction for lifestyle patterns. The financial jargon like recession and pay cuts seldom affect her and the soaring gold rate does not dissuade her from her romantic association with jewellery.

As she celebrates her sparkling looks with scintillating outfits, accessories and well crafted jewellery, and enjoys a sophisticated style with passion, the ever watchful Adam wonders if this embellished woman is his ‘object of desire’ or the ‘desire of objects’.

The world of fashion that seeks its muse in the fairer sex brings out a creation that adds a host of feisty ways to break the monotone look. As the woman moves in an egalitarian society, her intrinsic beauty coupled with her warmth and intelligence, certainly become her benchmark as she pairs basics with a little modernity and mayhem to create a whole new look about herself. Even those who veer away from vanity do certainly agree that presentation matters. In such an age, a positive outlook draped in an assortment of visible hues, colorful patterns and an outburst of style, scores, if not wins.

Nonetheless, it would be inconclusive without mentioning that vanity becomes horrifyingly vain when it fails to integrate the soul with the spectacle. Any celebration of style, trend and vogue, is merely an adornment of physical beauty that is, after all, superfluous. The discovery of the simplicity that lies buried within us is the true essence of beauty. It is most comforting to live with the bare and unadorned, than to suffocate with a style that scrapes benevolence, a quality that needs no embellishments at all. It feels blissful to be a part of the genre that remains ignorant of the bold and glaring world of glamour and fashion. Much as, we celebrate style and outward beauty, we do completely realize that our need to celebrate the humanity within us is by far the greatest. Perhaps the most befitting conclusion to this piece would be the words of Yves Saint Laurent, the grand maestro of the twentieth century design, “Over the years I have learnt that what is most important in a dress is the woman who is wearing it.”

SHE



When you are brought into being, SHE battles life
When you prattle, SHE understands
When you are nourished, SHE thrives
When you are clothed, SHE feels snug
When you are lost, SHE seeks you
When you lose, SHE comforts you
When you are bewildered, SHE guides you
When you are lonely, SHE gives you company
When you are delighted, SHE shares your joy
When you are in pain, SHE is your balm
When you endure, SHE is your strength
When you are agitated, SHE soothes you
When you are blue, SHE extends compassion
When you get poetic, SHE is your muse
When you reach for the stars, SHE gives you the fillip
When you win laurels, SHE feels victorious
When you live a life, SHE loves life

SHE is woman,
Your creator, your nurture
Shower her with  love

SHE gives you the reason to be….

Saturday, February 20, 2010

MOVING MESSAGES - 'My Name Is KHAN and I am not a Terrorist……………'

The most recent Hindi film ‘My Name Is Khan’ sparked off a controversy even while it was due to be released, not because of its contents or any other publically unfavourable details, but because of the hardline Hindu political party Shiv Sena’s reaction to some recent remarks made by the film’s leading man Shah Rukh Khan (SRK) on the non inclusion of Pakistani players in the Indian Premier League. After the Sena’s threats of vandalism on the release of the film, theatres across Mumbai took stringent measures to have a possibly peaceful release of the film on the 12th February, 2010. While the Indian media galored with reports of security measures taken in the city on the eve of the film’s release, and actor Shah Rukh Khan’s stand supporting his views about separating sports from political warfare that brew between nations, the UAE went on to screen the film on the 11thFebruary, a Thursday, a day when films are released in this part of the world. It found an eager audience not just in the Asian expatriates, but crossed boundaries to interest the huge melting pot of culture that is Dubai.

Being an Indian living here, and an ardent fan of SRK, I made it a point to watch the much hyped film on the first day itself. I sensed a bit of exhilaration about getting to watch it even a day before it could be viewed in India. My family and I enjoyed the evening show over our platter of crispy nachos served with salsa and cheese dip.

As young Rizwan’s innate skills prepare us to view our hero in a larger frame, a doting mother’s unconditional love and support to her special child grabs the empathy of the viewers. We have already started identifying with the story line so far that takes us through a unique love story enacted by the most endearing on screen couples Bollywood has seen so far. A bit of the US is showcased most interestingly through a wonderful cinematography. Horrific images of the Twin Towers collapse transports the viewers into the world of terrorism and the devastation of human life at the hands of a few hardliners. In the wake of this collapse and the ensuing prejudice against the Muslims in the US, the love story of the couple from different religious backgrounds comes under stress post 9/11.

The most moving images in the film that permeate through one’s soul are that of Rizwan’s outcry against people divided by religion. At a time when the world crumbles under terror attacks at the hands of religious fundamentalists, Rizwan’s indirect attempts to unite people by their virtues and disunite them by their vices is not an extraordinary but a genuine, heartfelt attempt of a common man at diluting the boundaries that separate mankind. And while we all agree that love knows no boundaries, yet we certainly identify with the struggle of the couple, Mandira and Rizwan, and their search for their identity that seemed to have taken a beating in the pathos that had come to engulf their own religions, their relationship, their shared grief and the outlook of the world at large towards them in the wake of terror attacks.

Mothers from different races, communities and religions find themselves shedding common tears as a distraught Mandira weeps inconsolably over the body of her young son killed in racial attacks. The cyclone in Georgia and Rizwan’s larger than life’s efforts in helping the stranded, brings races together in the face of adversity.

Rizwan, who suffers from the Asperger’s Syndrome, has to deal with his condition even as 9/11 sparks a sentiment of prejudice and hatred towards the Muslims. The irony of the theme lies in the fact that a person who is incapable of expressing emotions is indeed capable of infusing a deep one into those who are largely capable of the same, but have remained indifferent so far. We are moved by the man’s determined efforts to meet the President of America to convey a message, “My name is Khan and I’m not a terrorist”. These words, most vociferously, echo the sentiments of an entire community of people who represent ‘Muslim’ as nothing more than a people confined to a region. As a community screams to obliterate the stigma attached to it, it is left to the rest of us clear the dust that has settled on a picture so pristine.

Rizwan strives to drive home the message of love and peace that his religion stands for. His efforts lie juxtaposed to the opposing forces that aim to use religion as bait to numb humanity. The film sends across a message about violence and most rightly advocates Islam as a peace loving religion. A most stereotype voice resonates in a manner so novel that the viewers are sucked into the quagmire of humanity.

Today, as the world in various parts grapples with terrorism, and Muslims find it difficult to be a part of the multi cultural ethos, primarily in the western world, this Bollywood film at heart, tackles an international issue and shares an international relevance, as its soul searching and soothing track beckons the audience themselves to break into a song , “People over the world, reach out your hands and love one another…..”

Monday, February 15, 2010

Ruminations...15th February

We have a subtle perception of life and always strive for a picture perfect....Suddenly there comes a let down.....It could be heart breaking but the calculation is to save this image; save all and view all. What you see is a collage, not subtle, not elusive, but a tangible mass of experiences linked by a common theme....LIFE. And those who accept it are winners all the way.