Sunday, January 28, 2007

Guru-Shishya Parampara and other random thoughts...


For those who (after Anglicising/Americanising themselves and developing a superiority complex) believe that our Indian traditions and customs are only worth rubbishing, here's something for u...


Now it is no secret that I'm a big Gulzar fan... It is also indisputable that he is one of the great poet/lyricists of recent times... And yet, the man who wrote Kajraare and Beedi Jalayile that u gyrate ur collective butts to in every 'disc', also created an epic-proportioned ode to his philosophical guru, Mirza Ghalib... And not just the TV serial, the stamp of Ghalib is present everywhere in his works... At the very start of the serial (Ibteda), Gulzar narrates his Ode to his Guru, also published elsewhere as 'Portrait of Ghalib' -

Ballimaaraan ke mahalle ki wo pecheeda daleelon ki see galiyaan...
Saamne taal ke nukkad pe bateron ke kaseede...
Gurgurati hui paan ki peekon mein wo daad, wo waah-waah...
Chand darwaaze par latke hue boseeda-se kuch taat ke parde...
Ek bakri ke mamiyaane ki aawaaz...
Aur dhundhlayi hui shaam ke be-noor andhere
Aise deewaron se munh jod-ke chalte hain yahan
Chudiwaalan ke katre ki badi-bee jaise
Apni bujhti hui aankhon se darwaaze tatole...
Isee be-noor andheri-see Gali Quasim se
Ek tarteeb charaaghon ki shuru hoti hai...
Ek Quran-e-sukhan ka safaa khulta hai...
Asadallah Khan Ghalib ka pata milta hai...

Almost impossible to translate, though i shall try, for anyone who doesnt know urdu... imagine the fade-in scene at the beginning of the serial showing the activity in a late-evening Old Delhi alleyway -

The lanes of the area called Ballimaaraan, shaped like twisty arguments in Court...
At the street-corner housing the wood-shop ahead, the burial of birds dead in a bird-fight...
Praise for the poet emanating from mouths splattered with betel-stains...
A few ramshackle straw-thatched curtains hanging from the doors...
The sound of a bleating goat...
And the lusterless blackness of the diminishing evening
Moves with its face attached to the walls for support
Much like the Matriarch of the Chudiwallan Lane
Who, almost sightless, looks for doorways with her touch...
It is from this lusterless, dark Gali Quasim
That the little rays from a lamp emanate...
The first page of the Holy Quran is opened...
And one finds the address of one Asadallah Khan Ghalib...

Conclusion of this didactic section of the blog : u lose nothing by acknowledging what you gain from an elder or a guru... give them some respect and recognition...

* * * * *

Had a great time with the bhailog from school today, its always a lot of fun hanging out with u guys... Special thanks to Karan Gangwani for organising this impromptu get together... Lets hold something like this more often man, and do invite Happy Sardar everytime!

* * * * *

For Mirage: u can still comment on my blog if u read it, I'd still appreciate the odd comment if anything moves u...

* * * * *

Dinner should be had at least 2 hrs before bed... Otherwise u wake up with stomach-cramps and end up translating Gulzar into English and writing ur longest blog entry ever...

* * * * *

I think i dont have anything else to ramble about...

* * * * *

Or do I?

* * * * *

Zzzzz...


Thursday, January 25, 2007

The Eyes Have It...

Gathering clouds
Infest the blue canvas
The argentous border
Invisible to the eye
For here, the eyes disappear
Leaving hollow sockets behind
Dust settling into them

Yet the gaze is still directed upward
As if staring at the dark gray painting
And then it begins to drip
Droplets pregnant with colour
Dripping into the hollows
Delivering mud
The eyes reappear
Sightless.

(28/9/2006)

Friday, January 19, 2007

The Separation...

The light has gone out of our lives...
- Jawaharlal Nehru, on Mahatma Gandhi's death (1948)

And so it is...
My muse you have been
Turned me into a poet
Made me popular among my peers
Your presence, synonymous with mine
I have often take refuge in your comforting embrace
Ran from the world, adversity
You have been the eternal companion
But like all good things, this, I feel, must come to an end...
We have been together too long
I do not get the enchanting sensations anymore...
And so, I bid you goodbye
You will find another
More deserving of your company than I
I shall be better off without you...
'Put out the light, and then put out the light'
Fare thee well, my perforated friend...

(31/12/2006)


{P.S. - for those who think my wits have failed me and i have written an ode and a farewell poem to a cigarette, think again...}

Ode to my Muse (The Advertisement)...

She laughs
She laughs at my folly
She mocks my innumerable defeats
She stops
Sees my crestfallen face
She kisses me
Envelopes me in her embrace
Her aroma drowns out my sorrows
I am engulfed by her flames,
My perforated friend...

(23/7/2005)

Thursday, January 18, 2007

2007: An Introspective Odyssey...

They say New Year Resolutions are meant to be broken... They say promises are meant to be broken... They say hearts are meant to be broken... They say glass is meant to be broken...

And I dont want the world to see me
Coz I dont think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken
I just want you to know who i am...
- Goo Goo Dolls, 'Iris'

Quite an uneventful 31st December is what sets the beginning of 2007 apart from the rest of them, for me. No party, no alcohol, no chicks; just the family sitting at home in Jaipur and shivering... And of course, the eternal companion had left my side by the time the New Year rang in...

2007 has begun on a very retrospective/introspective note... A lot of inexplicable binaries have sprung into existence... Thats what inactivity can do, u know... Take this for example - Bhai was leaving on the night of the 11th... When i wished him goodbye with a fist-punch and a pat on the back, what images should pop into my head but those that we spent up in the attic room in Jaipur, laughing away to glory... He would suspend me inverted from his bed, Richu holding my feet firmly while he would tickle the soles... Pure torture... And now, he is an American citizen, got a job with the federal govt, everyone in his age-group is getting married, etc... Can those days of innocence ever return, Mr. Blake?

Life in 2006 has seemingly been through the twisty alleys of Ballimaran... Moving out of college to a place where no one belongs, the ups n downs of life with Meiya, the 'INCIDENT', the new love gone sour, the loneliness among a class of 120, and the parting with the companion. Lets see what the 'year of Bond' (borrowed from Times of India) brings...


Blog Archive