Is it just NAMEsake….

The idealists love to quote Shakespeare’s ‘What’s there in the name’ (do not recollect the exact archaic phrasing), but how relevant is this supposedly immortal quote in today’s urban chaos. Today we are all in a rat-race to carve out a niche for our names. It’s the name that gives you power and recognition under the sun. It is not surprising when a 5year old promptly corrects you when you spell her name wrong; such is the dearness of our names we grow up with. Right from couples fighting to get that perfect name for their baby, to the rebellious teen blaming his parents for giving him such a lame name….there seems no truce when it comes to the ‘name’. Its your name that can make your life through high school a living hell, its your name that can help you get a coveted job( your last name i.e.), its your name that can help you get past the door of a crowded pub or even come handy to pickup a girl at the bar….
Mundane reasons apart the concept of one’s name is certainly a double edged dagger because when we hear a name instead of associating it solely with the individual(the prime purpose of the concept of name) we end up associating it to his/her bloddline, religion, caste, creed…the list seems to be never ending. It is man’s this subjective outlook of one’s name that has complicated the whole concept. When we hear the names Ibraham and Arthur we do end up associating it with their religion, tracing back to their nationality and at times even stereotyping. These are the preconceived notions that have given the name the ability to draw borders and even shed blood since time in memorial. What was supposed to be a mere means of identification has numerous societal strings attached with it that can put you at an advantage our make the walk of life a little more difficult. The world would be a better place if we associated the name solely with the individual….without any concern of his lineage, religion or nationality. Each one of us are striding here to carve out our names on the stone in given our lifetimes, so ideally the world should not be biased on the basis of the name he goes by….
Then again what looks impressive on paper barely finds its place in the real world practice. We are humans, and basic instincts are always tough to overcome, but then again there can always be a beginning…. So the next time you meet a person acknowledge him for the individual he is and not what his name conveys….Let him and his conducts define his name and the other way round…then maybe tomorrow would be a better place to live in…

Good ole days…

Why did the world seem so simple when we were kids. When the only major used to be to convince parents to let us play for that extra half an hour. We perceived the world so differently when we were shorter than the fridge. Mom’s hug was the very definition of love, Dad was the strongest man ever, Grandma’s fables brought a smile on our faces before falling asleep, and even a bar of dairy milk was enough to contend us. Getting high meant standing on the rooftop and bad was yet to become the new good. Telephone was meant to get in touch with distant cousins and cell phones were an alien device. Video games could keep us going across the longest summer afternoons without any complains, when family dinners and birthdays were all that parting meant. Politics, malice and manipulations weren’t a part of our vocabulary. Man’s best gift to his kind was chocolate. Acquaintance and friend were synonyms. The eyes shone with spark of innocence; and the genuineness & warmth of that smile simply priceless. A time when the hues of fantasy and reality mixed on the palette of life. There were movies you were barred to see and magazines not allowed to read, reasons you never knew, minds brimming with questions, some of which left subtly unanswered by the adults. When bedtime used to 9pm and the 6:30 alarm meant a gush to get ready for school. Night-life was limited to late dinner parties with loud aunties engrossed in gossip and balding uncles engrossed in supposed to be intellectual discussions over whiskey, while we had our ball over rather mundane games. Sundays meant an eager wait to accompany Dad to the market, and a siesta hearty Sunday meal. Weekdays flew away in School; School a word that needs no description…seven hours of exuberant fun blended with the studies( read the teacher teaching while we are in our own world of bliss), and with friends boredom and monotony found no place even in the confines of the classroom. The fun during those 20minutes of recess unmatched today even by parting at the plushest of the night club. The Games period that kept us on the toes for the complete 50minutes of the previous period. A time when attending social functions weren’t such a pain in the arse. A talking dog and his group of wacky friends or a cat-mouse chase was the very definition of television (not to forget home theatre was an alien concept). The list would be ever ending…something to which each one of us can add a new think every time we reflect back on time. An as I barely brush my teeth and walk out of the house early morning, I see a group of a school kids dressed in white boarding a school bus, I just smile and jog past…to a new day and to life…

Shadow:

It walks with you on a lonely moonlit night, sits by you on a candlelight dinner, and stands by when you light the bonfire… Call it a natural phenomenon or a manifestation of your very existence; it proves itself to be an abiding companion. It stood by you when you queued to gain entry to that rock concert and sat by you when you secretly wept on the basketball court after a breakup. Been a companion by your side, alike in both rejoice and agony, there to share all shades that life has to offer. It seems like a friend who has always been there, would follow you till the brink of earth, always lends an ear to your pensive thoughts still never passes a judgment. People may be black or white, rich or poor, Hindu or Muslim but the shadow evades all these differences. Breaking all bounties disparity and creed, the same dark cohort sits by the poor begging for alms and trails the superstar on the red carpet. It braves the scorching heat before you on the sunny day and watches your back on a lonely night.


Some literature and myths may symbolize it as a sign of gloom or malevolence, but for me my shadow symbolizes that even when it seems totally dark there is still a gleam of light somewhere to incarnate the shadow. When your shadow leaves you that’s when you should realize that it can’t get any darker. I see no streak of grim in my shadow nor any stroke of gloom, it’s a reflection of my being, a companion who knows no gold or rag, and will stand by me throughout my walk of life...

On being 20….(in India…)

[*This is not even most distantly a literary piece, just a volley of thoughts with gross ignorance to grammar and conventional writing styles.]

Still standing on the threshold of adolescence and adulthood... Parents expecting you to be responsible adults when it comes to your conducts, while restraining your freedom on the pretext that ‘you are not yet matured enough to make your own decisions’. A phase each one of us has lived or are still living…

Fired by the intense desire to make it big, to outrun the rest and snatch your coveted position under the sun, while longing to relive the innocence of childhood at the same time. The peer pressure that strongly dominated our lives back in high school seems to have taken a backseat, though their influence on our everyday life still inevitable. A phase of battle between making our presence felt to the world ,and escaping to world of carefree oblivion…

Howsoever enigmatic the above lines may sound, these are golden years. We may loathe about the absence of the freedom (freedom, the word we have learned to worship since stepping into our teens) that our counterparts in the west live; but an innocent smile ‘here’ helps us get away as kids even now. It’s a time of rediscovering yourself and what you want from your life and this world, it’s the phase when parents slack the noose of parenting to ‘let us be’, the smell of this new found liberty inexplicable.

But for most of us today,in urban India, barring basic academic obligations and maybe an occasional summer internship, the word responsibility and other allied ‘big’ words are thrown into the sack of stupor. It’s the time to rejoice and live those last few carefree days before being stamped as adults with heap load of responsibilities to last a lifetime. This age is about burning the midnight oil before exams because you had befriended procrastination for the rest of the semester; convincing parents that extra circulars are equally (rather more :P ) important as grades on the resume so pursuing them is a necessity and not our bail for ignoring academics. It’s the time when you have that fag of cigarette with friends and then using the deodorant to make sure the hostel authorities do not take notice of it. It’s about waking up with a bad hangover from the ‘shots’ at the party last night and convincing each other(read friends) over lunch to never try ones ‘capacity’ again, only to forget it by the next Friday.

A time when facebook & googletalk are no less than a parallel to our very existence, unable to explain elders how your fingers seem totext and chat with a mind of their own…. A time when everyone is convinced(what else are friends for…) that ‘Hukha’ barely has any tobacco and that Mocha and Seesha are Gods bequest for mortals like us to unwind, and in the senior year every weekend is equivalent to parting under the pretext that it’s the last year together(with friends). It’s a phase when life without internet seems no less than an exile to Guantanamo Bay… and downloading movies and songs online is not even distantly regarded as piracy... Googling for the the pub with least cover charge, searching for the latest cellphone scheme with maximum discount charges, bragging that Simpson’s tshirt that you always wanted while your Dad is amused by the fact that you are sporting a cartoon chest print at 20!

The above lines may portray a very irresponsible and flawed picture. But it is just one side of the coin. Yes, we are impulsive at this juncture, driven by the fire to live most of what life has to offer, snatch our piece of this materialistic world. I do not deny that most of us want to have a piece of the cake and eat it too, but we are aware of the fact that we are nearing the hour to brave the world. We have lived our share of the innocent childhood and the carefree teens, its only a matter a time before we have to spread our wings and fly out of the nest into the open sky, the sky that does not merely offer freedom but also bring about responsibility and obligations, of family, friends, conducts and oneself. We do know that scores on the grade sheets today are a parchment that would affect the fate of our lives tomorrow. The parties and long drives are not an escapade, rather a rendezvous with our youth and innocence. They are not an excuse the snub adulthood but a reflection of who we still are, memoirs of the teens and a rejoice of the present. A phase that our parents have lived and smile back upon, and something even we would cherish seated in plush cabins, defining the epitome of responsibility in the years to come. But for now while we do justice to our academics and conduct, we want to party and live every moment that life has to offer, to keep the kid within alive and still carve out our niche in this humongous ocean…

They call it.... HOLI

Holi the festival of colours, of advent of new season, of the triumph of good over evil, of love, and a celebration of and to life. Holi , a riot of stunning and unparalleled display of colours; touch of green, a drop of blue to cool the hue, a tinge of red for zest, and a splash of yellow for warmth. The carnival of colours has ancient traditions dating back to the archaic times, but in today’s contemporary urban India it’s a day that transcends all social barriers, a reason to celebrate life amidst the urban race for survival. Here on campus, for us students its yet another reason for frolic and footloose celebrations. Still being rooted to the traditions, Holi has undergone some major metamorphosis over the years, today it may be played to the beats of stereos blaring contemporary music followed by rain dances, but the sprit and zeal remains the same, so does the sumptuous spread at homes and the love in the air. A feeling and ambience that words fail to describe. So no more scribbling, let the pictures do the talking….

[Disclaimer : The pics haven’t been clicked by me, are some images I googled , donot slap me with charges of Plagiarism, :D :P am not minting money, just posting random thoughts ]

Black White n GREY....

Does black and white blend to form grey, or does our obliviance miss the intrinsic presence of grey in black and white, in palette of LIFE. Today as I look at the humongous race to get one’s coveted position under the sun, it is not surprising to witness lines being crossed and conventions being compromised or altered. As kids we are asked to put everything in black and white, be it the high school science tests or when trying to save one’s skin after being caught by parents (something every teenager learns to dodge with time…). I know I am barely 20 years of age and just stepped out of the threshold of teenage , my experiences of life being thoroughly limited, but it doesn’t take an Einstein but a mere reflection to realize that life isn’t about only white and black but a million shades of grey neatly imbibed. I am not trying to send out a message that life is grey and grey is murky so life is murky. Rather my concern is who decides what is White and what is Black? These are merely the outcomes of archaic conventions, some like ethics & conscience still hold true to a good extend, whereas some social norms are crying for a radical revision. Being human, its our tendency to view the world through the tunnel of our own life’s experiences, which more than often lead to a biased picture. How often do we conceive an individual beyond what is conventionally right and what is wrong? Do we ever try giving second thoughts to what made the girl across the alley take up prostitution, or what compelled a juvenile to steal, what were the circumstances that lead to adolescence drug abuse and suicides… Blessed in our own shoes of comfort we choose to overlook these questions, simply because it is always easier to label the world by conventions than trying to write afresh on the slate. What we miss is the fact that each one of us is a unique individual subjected to even more unique and usually unprecedented situations, and conventions being the last resort to judge one’s consequent actions. We all vouch for the notion of omnipresence of perpetual evolution, doesn’t this call for reviewing these conventions. Grey according to be is not the shade to ascribe the traits of an antagonist as used in the thriller novels we all grow up reading, it is the colour of evolution, a colour that substantiates the very character of mankind. Life is abstract and has been evolving since genesis, not under the governance of theorems and axioms but with a new stroke that is painted on its canvas by every soul that walks this earth. I do not vouch to rebel against conventions or to use the realm of grey to get away with wrongdoings, it’s a question I ask myself in a pensive mood….what is GREY ? A mere amalgam or a shade that has carved out its own niche? Even on a blissful monsoon evening the nature paints the sky in a picturesque shade of grey, a grey that is most certainly not murky or gloomy but an indicative of transition,of not just seasons, but an onset on the citadel of hope and prosperity, something that makes you forget the everday azure of the sky…