SUSHANT SINGH RAJPUT… An Ephemeral Creature Of Transient Times…

Sushant Singh Rajput… A brilliant star in quest of stars, now in a galaxy faraway. 

His last thoughts (?) in my words:

An ephemeral creature of transient times…

I lived in the world of soulful quiet;

Firefly of the future, my soul found wings…

In life lost and stars-kissed light.

                 Words echoing from my deepest depths…

                 I owe to those who took my breath away;

                Living now, now dead…

                Neither regret, nor rejoice, nothing to say.

 Nothing like forever old and forever new…

For not in moments, in memories I live;

Born to die and born yet again…

Nothing to forget, yet nothing to believe.

              Past a beautiful lie, Present was existential angst…

              Future but an agonized quest;

             Scorched soul sitting on pierced wings…

             Flies me to distant shores- dark, day, or twilight.

 Nano particle in the void of time n space…

Infinity ensconced in a fleeting second;

Effervescent, enchanting, exhilarating…

Yet, in palm, are life n times ever held?

              An ephemeral creature of transient times…

             I lived in the world of soulful quiet;

            Firefly of the future, my soul found wings…

            In life lost and stars-kissed light.

Note: I wrote this poem in January this year. Didn’t know my words will echo the life and times of Sushant- a brilliant star, his astronomical quests, and perhaps his thoughts and emotions just before his journey to the faraway galaxy.

Sundowners at Sunset ! My Lockdown & Quarantine Musings…Journey from Serious to Hilarious.

I suggest savour the end-piece before the beginning. As Jacques Torres said-“Life is short. Eat dessert first” 🍨😊

After enjoying more than 2 months of Guwahati lockdown, now I am relishing Bangalore’s 14 days mandatory home-quarantine. And I feel freer than ever…not suffocation, but spirit soaring in the solitude. The silence 🤐 is eloquent 🗣, the limits and limitations are liberating. What with the wondering mind, wandering imagination, free flying thoughts…you get the drift. 🕺

I feel my wants and expectations from self and others reducing, receding…while I delve into the nature within and without. When I have rendezvous with the nature in my nature, the soul breaks into song n dance. Whenever I embrace the nature outside…the sky painted in myriad hues 🌈, the distant blue-green hills 🌲, the silvery-golden moon 🌙, the gloriously orange sunset setting the horizon on fire 🌅, chirping birds 🦜, fluttering butterflies 🦋…the window to the world opens many a windows to my soul. Oh, is the wind caressing me, or is it me caressing the wind ?🌠

Deleting toxic thoughts in tandem with unwanted mails and messages, I am trying to clear the cobwebs crowding my mind. Living with myself and my life, in my time, on my terms…I am coming to terms with myself. Doing away with dependencies small and big, I am keeping and making others safe from me😜

In my own beautiful company and in the spirit of ‘Ekla Chalo Re’ (Walk Alone), I am delighted by the days, lighted by the nights, and always ignited by the thoughts 🚶‍♂️🤔

Not that I am drifting towards ‘Sanyas’(renunciation)…far from it, for I find ‘Nirvana’(enlightenment) in the things material which I love most…reading what I haven’t in my ever-growing list 📚and re-reading what I have📖, furiously writing my unadulterated thoughts, devouring chocolates 🍬like there is no tomorrow (oh..‘temptation’ is so tempting), smelling its exotic aroma while gulping down endless cups of ginger-lemon-mint tea ☕️, listening to unbelievably beautiful lyrics of a Guljar and heavenly music of a Rahman or a Chopin 🎼, and occasionally enjoying a classic movie. But one indulgence I sorely and surely miss is the occasional sunset sundowner with back-slapping, name-calling friends 👥🍻

I think I will always be materialistic as far as these things go; and I hasten to add dark sunglasses, blue blazers, silk scarves, and a hat-at-perfect-angle, to the list. I have no shame in voicing my hedonistically vile vices. Let the style adorn me, if not the substance 😎🎩

To me these material matters matter. For me it will never be “Mind vs Matter”, but: “Man Minds the Matter”. Sometimes material is immaterial, and immaterial is material…who can sit in judgment ? 🧐

I have no quarrels with anyone, but sometimes with myself…which find expression in my prose and poetry. To quote W.B. Yeats: “Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry”. And let me add: Out of love with others we weave dreams; out of love with ourselves we live life. So I dream. So I live 😊

From life flows death. Seriously in a lighter vein, I know none among clan or friends will have the heart to write my obituary.📜 So, to save you the cost, time and trouble of hiring a professional obituary writer, I pen my own obituary. Publish it posthumously by simply replacing ‘I’ with ‘he’, interspersed with ‘Niru’ or ‘bro’ (not ‘bhai’ of the supari fame or ‘bhaiya’ the milkman, please), and “Woh” (for those who were romantically inclined towards me 💗), to introduce variety in the mundane foregoing text. Be stingy in your praise by all means, but a bit you must shower (for it is customary not to criticize the dead, however bad, ugly or both) 😂. And don’t forget to add these immortal lines:

“Oft beaten by life n times, he was a man offbeat but not off-colour 🌈, hence can’t be written-off without an obituary. With many a wild whims and questionable quirks, he insisted on writing ✍️what people didn’t want to read, particularly enjoyed reading about farting habits of fat pet cats🐈possessed by pot-bellied petty pensioners, and freely prescribed pills for piles to priests, peasants and pedants. He was harmless enough not to be noticed, and observant enough to notice the bird-shit sitting quietly on the right of his left eyebrow 👁. He decided early on never to decide what decision was good for him, and that decidedly decided his fate 😔. Some loved him (not his fault), most disliked him (serves them right), and due to his mysteriously enigmatic and unlikely-likeable persona 🧟‍♀️, many are perpetually in the in-between space of neither here nor there…now reluctantly liking him for 23 seconds…then reluctantly disliking him for 43 seconds…and the reluctant cycle keeps repeating 🔄. May his soul RIP sheltered from self.”😎

WHEN FATHER DEPARTS !

Dreams and memories of father waft into my nights like puffy clouds… sobbing memories, crying dreams… descending in hordes. Memories which keep me awake; Dreams pulsating and alive; Emotions overwhelming n choking. Memories of his infectious laughter, his magical touch and that naughty twinkle in his eyes… memories which beckon, dreams which whisper… tiny tendrils of tender thoughts… maudlin eyes tired of crying at times, but remembrance always wet…

With age he mellowed and sparkled like a fine vintage wine, yet father was a child. Innocent in his maturity and playful in his seriousness, he kept the child within around too. Father was full of life and gave so much of himself and his love. He didn’t preach goodness, but showed it in his methods n manners. Fond of small little pleasures, and with impeccable taste for finer things, he was neither greedy nor a hoarder, nor was he casual in his words, approach and life-style.

Father gave his best and looked for the best in others. He stood tall but never made one feel small. He appreciated all that is good and beautiful and left the world a little better. So very humane, father was among a few good men, a rare breed. He lived and died on his own terms… with dignity and grace, and in his own inimitable style! I grieve that he is no more, but am thankful that he was.

My unspoken bonding with father was such that there was little to be said between two of us. His silence was eloquent, eyes spoke volumes, and his smile or a raised eyebrow conveyed it all. Feelings ran deep and our understanding grew without trying. I wish I had held his hand more often and little longer; I wish I had hugged him whenever and wherever and for no reason; I wish I had sat by his side silently watching the sunset, sun or no sun; I wish I had stolen more of his mornings, afternoons and evenings; I wish I had drunk and devoured more of him… oh, how I wish!

Father went away, but will always be with me. He lives in my laughter and cries, in my joys and sorrows, in my sky and universe, in my days and nights. He lives in my thoughts, my emotions, my feelings. He lives in my breaths, my memories and my moments. I bask in the warmth of his love, I shine in his reflected glory.

After he departed, people thus console and counsel: life goes on as it keeps flowing like a river. But as Heraclitus said, no man enters the same river again…for it is not the same river and he is no longer the same man.

Sri HCS Photograph

Someone’s Pain, My Pleasure ?

The dead depart and the accused are arrested, but the world around rest of the crestfallen family falls apart. We relish gossiping about and deriving voyeuristic pleasure from tragedies befalling others. Gruesome details, innards and all, are shared and forwarded endlessly and instinctively with glee and become fodder for free entertainment. It is forgotten there are none without dark hidden side.

As evolved beings, can we curb this primitive urge, and show sensitivity by shunning the senseless and being sensible? Can we search deep within and allow a semblance of dignity to those who have to suffer ignominy for no fault of theirs? Can we just let them be?

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Life by Death ! Live by Death ! And Death by Chocolate !

Hi, my following piece on life and death is not intended to make you feel pessimistic or doomed, but to put the greatest fear of our lives, i.e., death, into perspective and leverage it to live by our values…..by what really matters.

When any near and dear one dies, we become philosophical and our values transcend to exceedingly good, and the importance of love, empathy, selflessness and so on suddenly dawns upon us. In those deathly moments we ask ourselves: does it really matter- this pettiness, this selfishness, this anger, hatred, ego, this one-upmanship, this attention grabbing and status seeking ? In the face of death, we realize the futility of it all, and the ultimate truth hits us hard:  I may not exist next moment and nothing will matter once I am dead, not to the “dead me” at least !

But these transformational thoughts are temporarily caused by death of some one close and evaporate soon. Therefore, does it make sense to make the temporary permanent ? Is it wise to think of death consciously and continuously, so that we remain transformed, so that we are naturally good…not artificially or by design, so that our values are not blurred in the hurly burly of life and we can be in command of our priorities? Remaining forever conscious of death may not be such a bad idea after all….. not in a forlorn, despondent, or pathetic manner, but in a life-defining, positive and reinforcing way.

In those few moments when we are aware of death, we let go of the superficial, the shallow and the sinister. This awareness then allows us to embrace the good, the beautiful and the worthy. Therefore, it logically follows that keeping knowledge of death as our constant companion, even if in the subconscious, simplifies and untangles everything…..from owning responsibility for “what a mess my life is” to ridiculing and rebuking myself for my sense of selfish entitlements, from accepting failures and rejections to allowing myself to be at peace with myself and others…warts n what not!

Change is the only constant and death is the only certainty. Our birth too was not a certainty…it could have been or would not have been…depending on so many factors. But once we are born,  death is a certainty….the only absolute absolute in life…and it comes at a time and place of its own choosing.

We can appreciate life more, live life more by being aware and accepting of death. Once we come to terms with our death (which is inevitable), we can let go of our fears as well as false values, dogmas, anxieties, and stupid sense of self-importance. It lifts us up from being mean, narrow and petty. That’s life in its true sense and in its magnificent glory. Death takes our lives away, but its knowledge makes our lives worthy by making inhuman humans humane !

So, shall we be in cahoots with death always while being alive ?

Yes ! if all that’s written above is true, then it is also true that:

Meaning of death gives meaning to life !

Death therefore define us, our values !

Death become us, for in death alone we live honestly and honourably and we do not become living dead !

Let’s not be in denial of death then, let us not lose sight of our destiny defined by death !

In this game of life n death, life is by death….so live by death !

And try Death by Chocolate…to sweeten it : )

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Two who left us…but will never leave !

I remembered them in the shower today ! The Two who left us but will never leave !

I remembered them in shower today, I don’t know why ! ‘’Anand’’ and ‘’Kishore’’…..the living metaphors who lived lives the way they were named. Both forever spreading happiness n joy, both forever young n bringing cheer. Their genuine warmth hugged us n goodness envelops us. One intoxicated by his laughter, while the smile of the other was so very  infectious. One could ask me the meaning of ‘slut’ without blinking, while the other wanted to understand the nuanced influence of wine vs. ‘bhang’ on senses. While one teased me endlessly about the things I was trying to hide behind my “kala chasma”, the other gifted me one. While one will discuss spooky feelings attempting cross- words, the other insisted on having me by his side to watch “Bhoot Bangla” on a dark ‘darawani’ night aeons ago.  They really scared the shit out of you at times, LOL ! Such was their camaraderie with young n old that none was foreign and nothing was taboo. Both so open that transparency became naked.

Both larger than life.…. They are no more but they defy death ! Yes they left…..but will never leave !

Goa portrait 2

Morbid Thoughts: The Final Moments- Tryst with the Unknown ! (As immortalised in Anand- “Maut, tu ek Kavita hai….”)

On the edge of Age…
On the cliff of Life…
On the brink of Death…
On the end of the beginning and beginning of the end….
When darkness has devoured the light and spark has gone…
When all seems to be lost forever in the abyss of nothingness…..
When time has timed out and space has shrunk ….
Mind drifts and dithers, confused and confounded,
Desperate to capture life’s journey in few fleeting moments !
Life….a kaleidoscope of colours n myriad hues,
But now all in black n white…nay Grey !
Life….a parade of people, places n peccadillos,
All that is left now is fragile vanishing memory !
Mind lucid no more…..now conscious, now unconscious…incoherent,
It tricks, it teases, it plays games !
Flood of Illusions, deluge of delusions !
A constant subliminal struggle !
And the matter matters not any more !
People loved n loving but are images hazy n distant !
Echoes come calling from far away shores,
But fade away in inaudible whispers !
It’s a different world out there……frightening but mesmerizing n enticing,
Blackest of the black hole !
It beckons, it calls, it tempts, it shepherds….
To the oblivion n beyond !
To keep the tryst with the unknown !

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Absurdity of Love n Existence… in the context of lover’s treachery

Deeply influenced by Camus and the absurdity of love and existence, I am writing this Blog about the situation of a lover who is cheated by his love and is now symbolically perched precariously and hopelessly on a cliff hanging by the fragile thread of hope so as not to be thrown in the abyss,…..I write about the life of this lover…life which is not a theatre of the absurd, …but a life of absurdity…a living, palpitating absurdity. I lend my words to the thoughts of this dejected yet spirited lover, pardon me if you find me insane and incoherent. I pen thus for this imaginary lover:

I never perceived the full meaning of lifelong struggle to get back lost love, as I was not a party to it, as I had not lost you then, nor ever dreamt of losing you ever. I am hit by its full import now as you have gone away and abandoned me for another, as I suffer and pine for you. To have you back in my life is my futile struggle reflected in my silent quest, in my hopeless hope, and the anguished cry which escapes from my soul, reaches your heart but touches you not.

Camus talks about this absurdity through the character Sisyphus….about the feeling that life is meaningless. Sisyphus is condemned to the unrealizable task of rolling a huge boulder over the top of a hill. The moment he reaches the top, he watches, as it tumbles back to the bottom. He is cursed to repeat the cycle for eternity. But Sisyphus carries on…on n on and on…unmindful n uncaring of the futility of this exercise. It is absurd, it is meaningless…..yet he never stops. So is the absurdity I face in my life now…I know you will never come back, but I keep asking, shamelessly, unmindful of the humiliating rejections.

Camus sees three possible responses to this state of hopelessness: reposing Faith in God ( but I am at best agnostic n think it is an illusion, and i question if God is there, why did he allow another man to take away my woman…as for the woman, I rationalize that she left me to punish me, but to go to this man…?…well even God will be a mad Dog trying to fathom this ); Suicide (but I am a coward); and Defiance…..in continuing to live (love) , despite understanding the futility of existence (struggle to get my love back).Therefore, I settle for the life of subjugation, to the misery of circumstances… with an attitude of acceptance.

My love, you will ask can meaninglessness be justified ? Yes, because, though I am fully conscious of my fate and futility,  I cannot escape the struggle…for i can endure it. By embracing the hopelessness, I am aware of the limitations of life…therefore, I discerningly revolt against my fate….this futility…by continuing to toil and try. And I rebel with inner strength and moral courage.

But I am yet to reach a stage where I am free from my anxieties about you, about return of love from you…for I keep hoping…Though I choose a life that is without appeal and hope, my heart still keeps appealing…and hoping…and I keep asking for your love. Though I am indifferent to the future, i cherish my present struggle for your love to the fullest, even if you…the object of my desire…find it deplorable and despicable.

You will be convinced of my arguments, my sincerity, my thoughts n feelings, and the seriousness of my efforts to regain my love only by my death, therefore I die thousand deaths daily.

I am continuing in my misery with a profound understanding of it…I wonder whether I am beginning to savour it. I believe seeking you, your love… is more momentous than suicide…..which serves no purpose. My situation is hopeless and gloomy….and the hopelessness and the gloom are eternal, but I am thoughtlessly immersed in my pursuit and I think neither of hope nor of hopelessness. I am fully aware of the absurdity.

“Basically, at the very bottom of life, which seduces us all, there is only absurdity, and more absurdity. And maybe that’s what gives us our joy for living, because the only thing that can defeat absurdity is lucidity..” (Camus)

And I am lucid enough to understand the futility.

And I stand triumphant in my tragedy !

And I love you !

 

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