Sunday, January 5, 2014

His Confession

It seems like my words have just been reduced to one woman. When I write to her my heart turns into oceans and my words to shores. All the ocean knows is to come back to the shore, with no two waves alike. I can describe her almost perfectly.. from the spontaneous energy in her kajal-eyes to her beautiful fingers, and to that faint scar on her forehead. She talks of some great people and madness. She smells of euphoria and happiness. Her eyes look of intellect and soulful desire. She listens to my life. She makes me long to lie with her. And when she looks at the low moon in the winter sky surrounded by the mountains of forever -my words just can't stop spinning. Every time this moon shines, it witnesses the overwhelming emotion in my heart, and perhaps it nods at my determination to hold her tighter than time.

I want to write something heart-wrenching beautiful. I want to write something that would crawl under the readers' skin and reduce their souls to shreds. I want to write with the longing that we dare not talk about, the suffering that we carefully tuck away between layers and layers of darkness and secrets. I want my words to dance on their wildest imagination; crack their hearts open so that new light can shine through. But I am just useless.

Lately, I write to find that moment - the moment that led to me this madness.

-omi

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Madness...

Writing after a long time guys!!
Hope you like it!

She was desperate to find something, anything that would soothe her ache. She wanted to not feel the craziness of her heart. She wanted to forget and not want the things she couldn't have. She wanted to exchange her burned, scarred heart with a brand new one, and she was desperately hunting for the clean heart, for a fresh start.

When she met him, she knew. She knew it was the purest heart she could find, and she had to have it. She was so desperate to clean herself that she did not care if she dirtied him in the process. So the first opportunity she got, she pounced. She dug her nails in his skin, and ripped his chest out. And there it was, the most beautiful thing in the world, and she was about to have it. She was about to rid herself of all her crazy, and all the her madness. It was wonderful.

And yet, no matter what she did, she couldn't take it. He was smarter than she thought, he was better than she thought. She wanted a fix, and he wouldn't allow it. He actually loved her. It was almost cruel.

All she ever wanted was a man who would soothe her madness. That was the only way she knew. But he only burned it more, made her crazier. He was right: the cure was not to fix the crazy but to accept it. She wanted to forget. He made it okay for her to remember

Wish you a very Happy New Year!! God bless!

-omi

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Be Brave!


There are people who couldn't deal with the idea of a modern woman living her life independent and traveling late around the city. So they raped her - beat her - in a rapid moving bus in the nation's capital and then threw her out on the street to die. And with that - they have raped India and left its dignity naked on the street. They were six of them against her - all of 23 years of age. Practically a baby with the world yet to be discovered. The way India and each Indian failed this girl is utterly reprehensible and marks a moment of deepest shame for the nation.

In few weeks that followed the incident, I watched the social dialogue focused on the lack of law and order and on the demands of death penalty for the accused. India's politicians (including women!) ever representative of the pathetic state of the Indian government, came out saying ridiculously sexist and insensitive comments. In some instances even equating every rape victim to be a prostitute.

A few days back - that poor girl took her last breaths and has now left a nation of questions - of confusion - of anger and hurt and of a very uncertain future. Like most of India's intractable problems - the issue of injustice against women is systemic, its root causes embedded deep in the Indian culture.  And unfortunately like most times of tragedy, the dialogue has been about symptoms rather than the disease.

Yet another group of citizens have vociferously expressed despair. Statements of "nothing will ever change" have been written and heard in different hues all across social media and in discussions. Little do these people realize that accepting "Nothing will change" makes it a self fulfilling prophecy.

NO!  This is not a time to despair and lose hope. This is a time - if there ever was one - to fight! This is a time for each Indian to sit alone in a room and delve deep into his soul. And to confront his weaknesses. If you are a man - think about each time you have been unfair or uncourteous to a woman - learn to accept it - take responsibility for it - truly apologize for it,  and take steps to mend it.

If you are a woman - think about each time you have been ill-treated - or led to believe you are lesser than a man - but instead of fighting this lie you relented and kept quiet - think about each chance you have had to challenge this ridiculous notion and missed. This is not a time to despair. This is a time for Courage. Courage to face your flaws - Courage to do what is hard - Courage to stand up for those who can't for themselves.

The six wretched, depraved animals who robbed 'Amanat' of her dignity and forever stole her chance at a happy and successful life - do not deserve to live. But they do not deserve to die either - death in these circumstances is too merciful. These men should be sentenced not just to life-imprisonment - but a lifelong of solitary confinement. They should be kept under strictly regulated conditions - in a tall white room with smooth walls and bright lights - where there is nothing but the sound of their own voice - all day - all night - 24 hours each long day - 7 days each miserable week - until the end of their lives. Locked in a prison where nothing ever changes - no sound ever creeps in - no one offers death - or company or utters a single word - a prison with no windows - no features - utterly and absolutely nothing to spare them from the company of their thoughts and from the repent of their actions.  They should be given proper food and nourishment just to make them live another day. They should be prevented from taking  their own lives. They should be forever locked in a white box they try to escape - try and fail - try and fail all over again - every single day. May be - may be  - just may be - that will begin to atone for the barbaric acts they have committed.

And yet what does that do to mend your soul ? What does that do to bring 'Amanat' back and what does it do to stop that burning, excruciating pain you are feeling in your heart .. nothing. And so we have to rise and pick ourselves up and pledge to do everything we can to ensure no woman in India is ever treated this way again.  You may not succeed this week, this year or even in your lifetime - but when you get to the end, you should be able to hold your head high and say you fought with all you could.

If you want her death to mean something - you have to change the way you live and what you accept as normal - for the rest of your lives. If you are a man, call and talk to every significant woman in your life. And promise her to be better, kinder, and more courteous and to protect her against all dangers.  If you want her death not to be in vain, then - learn to accept your mistakes and pledge never to repeat them again. If you are truly a son of India - then take heart - for you were born in the land of Shri Ram - of Marayada Purushottam (मर्यादा पुरुषोत्तम) himself - and in your blood you have the strength to be righteous. If you are truly a Man, then promise yourself to stand up for the women in your life - against anyone - anything - no matter what the outcome.

If you are a woman - then remind yourself each day - that no one - NO ONE can ever rob you of your dignity. Remind yourself that 'Amanat' died because she fought back - against all odds and no hope of escape - she stood up for what she believed in - and though she may have died - she died fighting.  You swear with every red cell in your blood to fight injustice. Swear to stop at every instance you are wrongly treated as less than a man - and turn and fight this insidious lie.  Take a pepper spray - take self defense lessons - carry a rock or carry a blade - but you make sure you can hurt any man who ever tries to take advantage of you.  Swear to yourself to be fearless and to hit back at anyone who thinks you are vulnerable. If you ever get in a tough spot - take the name of 'Amanat' and drive your knee so far and so hard up his balls - that he no longer remains a man.

Stand India!! For this is the time for courage. This is the time to be brave!

Saturday, June 9, 2012

A Heart Break...



Just realized something.. its about heartbreak..

The heart doesn't break in a snap.  It doesn't fall and shatter on the ground; there is no cracking or ripping.  A heart breaks like a flower wilts - quietly yet.. suddenly...

She keeps the flowers on her desk. Roses, mostly. She likes Roses. They are cheerful and intense; She loves that. Their soft petals tantalize her skin whenever she touches them, and their colors brighten up the room. But then if she gets too busy to pay them much of attention... if she forgets to water them for just one day, they start to look sad and gloomy. The intense red is still there but they start to run low on vibrance. She waters them . Some life comes back, the breathing becomes easier.  Now she knows they'll last for another week or so. She hasn't hurt them enough yet.

But sometimes, its just too late. One day she comes into the room, and sees their necks down, even though their petals are still soft. Then no matter whatever she does, they will never look up again. They keep wilting slowly - dying. It doesn't matter how many times she waters them or give them plant nourishment, they are finished now. She can only wait for them to die out completely and disappear... only to become a memory for some time, and then forgotten.

This is how a heart breaks.

Monday, February 6, 2012

I love you..

When wandering through the internet and different webpages, I found an interesting article.
It was about greeks and their myths and beliefs. And take my point mates, they made sense..

Here is an extract..

Those Greeks had a very logical reason for the existence of a "soul mate".
They believed that humans initially had two heads, four arms and four legs.
They were then cut into half (not exactly, but yes.. cut is the most appropriate word I could find) as a consequence of some form of disobedience to the gods, thus creating the modern human, who was left to search for his or her other half - the soul mate.

A new age belief is that souls are made with a direct connection to one another, in pairs as they say, and it is the other pair of your soul, that is your ultimate soul mate.

In the life of every person, there is "at least one person" (yes, true for many!) with whom we make a very deep connection. The connection at times is too deep, beyond our greatest and wildest dreams.

And my dreams - the deams in my mind, the ambition that fuels my ideas, the mischief that runs through my brain, the light that permeates my eyes, the invisible tickle that makes me smile....

It's all you.

I just cant wait for your answer!!!
I.. am already yours!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Confused.. to the core...

आज सकाळी ऑफिसमध्ये गेलो तेव्हा तीच न्यूज flash होत होती..
मन बधीर झालं..
काय.. कोण.. काहीच कळेनासं झालं होतं..
साधारण पुढचा अर्धा तास कामात लक्षच लागलं नाही..
ऑफिसच्या बाल्कनी मध्ये कॉफी चा मग घेऊन उभा होतो..
मनात आलं.. की आयुष्य किती क्षणभंगूर आहे..
सकाळी घरून निघताना.. "येतो.." असं म्हणून गेलेले लोकं कधीच पुन्हा घरी परतणार नाहीत..?
A Wednesday पिक्चर आठवला..
आपण खूप लवकर used to होऊन जातो.. आता ही गोष्ट चांगली की वाईट हे काही मला कळत नाहीये..
आणि यंदा तर अतिरेक्यांना ही दोष देता येणार नाही..
आपल्या लोकांना फोन केला.. सगळे सुखरूप आहेत नं हे चेक केलं.. channel बदलून बदलून बघितलं की नक्की काय झालं.. थोड्याफार अफवा ऐकू आल्या.. "आपण" सुरक्षित आहोत नं? मग काय तर...
सकाळी पेपर मध्ये वाचू सगळं नीट..
इतका स्वार्थी झालोय मी??
आज सकाळी मी घरून निघालो तेव्हा नीलायम theatre पाशी traffic jam होतं..
एवढी लोकं थांबून बघतायत हे बघून मला वाटलं की एखादा accident झाला असेल.. किंवा शूटिंग चालू असेल...
आपल्याला कुठला आलाय वेळ???
सकाळी ९.३० वाजता कार्ड स्वाईप झालं पाहिजे.. या नादात मी पुढे गेलो..
आणि नंतर खरंच जाणवलं.. आईचा फोन आला.. पोचलास नं नीट? असं असं झालं म्हणे तुझ्या जायच्या रस्त्यावरच..
तेव्हा मी सुद्धा तुटक तुटक च बोललो आई शी.. काम महत्त्वाचं वाटलं मला तेव्हा...
आता कळतंय... मी खरंच खूप स्वार्थी वागलो.. रादर झालोय मी स्वार्थी.. स्वतःची आणि फक्त आपल्या लोकांचीच काळजी करावीशी वाटते मला हल्ली...
दुनिया गेली तेल लावत..
पण नंतर जेव्हा मी माझ्या ताई शी gtalk वरून बोललो तेव्हा खूप जास्त हेल्पलेस वाटलं...
ताई नी समजावायचा प्रयत्न केला.. मी ही समजून घ्यायचा प्रयत्न केला..
पण मी स्वार्थी झालोय हे नक्की..
पण मग स्वार्थी झालो तर मग मला हळहळ का वाटली??
डोकं सुन्न का झालं??
तो अर्धा तास मला युगासारखा वाटला??
घरी येताना त्याच रस्त्यावर २ मिनिट थांबावसं वाटलं.. पण नाही थांबलो..
घरी जायची ओढ लागली होती..
स्वार्थीपणा बोलवत होता..


I know this is a very confused post... but really, this is exactly what I am feeling.. right now..

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Last Kiss...


It had just started to rain when he stopped his car outside her house. She hesitated to get out of the car as she didn't want to get wet. He watched her hair as she watched the drops of rain fall down the window. Their evening coffee date was over and she was trying to leave him.. again..

He hadn't seen her since they broke up. Three weeks and two days had passed.. But to him, they were "twenty three" days of different life.. She turned back at him and smiled.. They both smiled.

"Thanks for the coffee dear!" She said. Her eyes studied his face. Reading every emotion he tried to hide. He didn't want to say.. But he did..

"I still love you!"

Her eyes fell. She played with a button on her jacket. He watched her fingers; afraid to see the look on her face.

"I know you do!" She said "things are just.. better this way.."

He nodded.. Still watching her hand. She stopped playing with the button and put her fingers under his chin to raise his head. His heartbeat stopped when their eyes met. Her face was close to his. He was not sure who moved first.. But he didn't close his eyes until their lips came together.

The sound of rain faded and only thing he knew was the feeling of her lips against his. The same lips he had kissed a thousand times before, but this was something special. But it was over.

She opened the door and stepped into rain without a word.

It was their last kiss.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara....


They say sometimes you have to be lost to find your way. I have stayed away from this place for a while now. And it has allowed me to look at *Panorama* from a distance, and I realized that in the thirst for being appreciated, I stopped doing on this site what I loved most - writing for the sake of writing itself. Writing became more a means to massage my ego than being happy. So in true spirit of the change, I am going to base this article on a completely unpretentious topic - a movie review!

'Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara' by Zoya Akhtar was a rather surprise delight. For the first time in a long while, I left the theatre feeling happy and light. Comedy films entertain you for a bit, but the laughter dies down later on. Drama films, when good, get you to think about serious issues, but the strain is unsustainable for long periods of time - and you soon tend to put it out of your mind and move on. But this film is different. More than laugh, it makes you smile. And by the end just delivers a simple message - as if saying - "Hey You!, Smile you idiot ( or sometimes - jerk! ) - you are alive and breathing, be happy for that" And truly celebrates the act of simply being alive. The jokes are practical and down to earth. The kind of fun you can encounter in real life when you are hanging out with friends. (There are many situations where we find that the jokes which we crack are much better than these.. but lets assume that they have a different style than ours.. )

The story is actually a snapshot of 3 lives for a week. Of three close friends meeting for a vacation. All of them are in some way occupied by their problems and baggages. But by the end of it, they realize that sometimes letting go is the best thing you can do to help yourself. The message is nuanced and I am not sure how well it might be received in main stream Indian audience. But the film is technically sound and should do very well none the less. (okay, i know you all know the theme.. but wanted to revise it.. ! :) )

The direction is simple, sometimes too simple but the photography is breath taking. The film aptly shows the coming of age for Bollywood and in some sense India itself. It has a global presence and theme to it. The shooting is on par with the best of the film industry. Larger than life when needed, it is still grounded enough to actually move you when intended. The music is exhilarating, fresh and alive in every beat. Guitar is to Spanish music what tabla is to Indian. And in this film, the songs are mostly guitar based. This gives them a simplicity and freshness that is the exact opposite of the audio palette of a semi-classical Indian song. The lyrics are beautiful and Javed Akhtar's poetry is sublime. I loved the cast, its youthful, uncomplicated and multinational. The kind of global citizens modern Indian youth would aspire to be. Hritik Roshan is subdued but ever present, he is too much of a star to be just a mere part of the story, Abhay Deol is pleasant and grows on you. But the real surprise is Farhan Akhtar - this is an actor who plays well within his own limits, and his rendition of the comedy is the most natural I have encountered on screen in a while. Katrina Kaif does her part well. It is impossible to ignore her when she is in the frame. And in some instances, you really do forget to follow the dialogues, the scenery and be simply in awe of how gorgeous she can be. (I can be biased.. ;) )

The location of Spain has clearly paid off. And for the song of "Senorita" - which is partly spanish, adds beautiful authenticity to the play. You have to give it up for the music director's guts to let a song be in a foreign language - and trust it entirely to the rhythm for the audience to love it. The Senorita song demonstrates aptly the sensuality and pleasure that is inherent in Spain and its singers. It is a remarkable contrast to the Indian culture. Where often times, in favor of seeking spirituality, pleasure is looked down upon. The Spanish culture on the other hand celebrates pleasures and the people for wanting it. These are a people who are not afraid to ask for extra helpings of ice cream, a more toungy kiss, an extra night with a lover and have a society that won't fault them for wanting it. It makes their poetry extremely sensual and its honest expression, endearingly human.

It complements the film beautifully in its message for asking people to celebrate life. Well - whats new about that ? True, we have heard these cliches for so long, we probably just tune them out by now. But there is something to it. A few years ago I became friends with a person who was genuinely happy. Not that there weren't any problems or sadness - but for the most part, this person was - happy. It got me thinking and I discovered the secret of happy people - they are truly able to live every moment. I know, I know ... what does that even mean - are we to stop our car every time we see a sunset or what .. Imagine that you are having a dinner party and are cooking for your friends. To indulge yourself, you are having a small cup of ice cream while cooking. And while chopping your veggies, you accidentally cut your finger. Most people will completely focus on the finger and the pain, its overwhelming and begs attention. The happy people I have found - can not only attend to the cut, but also savor the ice cream they were having in the first place. The thing is life seldom serves you ice creams on a plate with no distractions. And most of us when we think of happiness, want that unadulterated, undiluted and undisturbed experience of happiness. The trick is to savor a happy moment regardless of where it occurs. So if you enjoy rain, enjoy rain even when its because you have a flat tire and you are forced to stand on the road. And the people we find are most happy - are the people who are better at this. They don't lie to themselves or ignore their problems, but they don't trash the good things thoughtlessly either. And there lies the message of the film, so go out and see it and enjoy it. Go for a run, an evening walk, sit by the sea or like in my case, just get over yourself and write! Yes the Mantall the Bouys.. Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara...

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Stupid...


You know how we say, 'It is too good to be true?' How when something so wonderful happens that we can't help but thank our stars and feel so overwhelmed that we have to utter with joy: Oh, you are too good to be true!

But do you know what the actual, original phrase is? It's, "If it's too good to be true, then it probably is." I don't know why we take out the last half of the quote. We choose to focus on the half truth and not face the reality.
Like she did.
Perhaps, she didn't get the memo - she didn't realize that when someone is too good to be true, he probably isn't. she is a stupid girl who believed it when he said he loved her. She was the stupid girl who didn't see the heinousness behind those cute eyes she adored. She gave in, she fell hard, and was trapped in his spell that she couldn't look beyond him. She couldn't see what he was doing to her. She couldn't decipher his plan. She couldn't see how he would use the doll that she was and then throw her out in search of another prettier one. Perhaps because he liked blond dolls and she is dark haired. Perhaps because it was all a game for him - her emotions, her life, was nothing but a game to boast in front of others. Perhaps he thought that somehow he would be more of a man if he could conquer her. Perhaps because he always thought she was stupid while telling her how smart he was. Perhaps, because she really is stupid.

If it is too good to be true, dear readers, it really is. Always, always remember that.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

a night.. with you...


There were few times - very few - when he held her in the darkness after she woke up from a nightmare. But when he did, it wasn't as if the fear would leave her. It never made the darkness go away either. Her demons were still out there. The nightmares were still walking..
When he held her, she did not feel safe, but she felt better. "It's all right," he'd whisper in her ear. "I'm here with you. I love you," and then he'd go on to lie: "I'll never leave you."

Then, just for a moment or two, the darkness didn't seem so bad.

a night to remember
like a prayer that has no answer
a night so romantic
a night that makes me sick

A night full of love
a night full of butterfly
a night full of caress
a night full of kiss
a night of bliss

a night for indulgence
a intimate and an awesome ambiance
a night of touch
a night to remember...
A night with you.