Posts Tagged ‘philosophy’

Of shining pearls and a flying peacock

April 15, 2016

Content I am.  With a smile on my face and a glow in my eyes.  That I had just been in a dream. Moments flew on feathery soft wings.

We smiled for no reason but for being happy.  We gleamed.  We shone.  Not like a firefly, nor like a diamond, but like a pearl.  Soft and milky white.

That we rode in parching heat, like it was a breeze of early summer mornings.  That we pulled off the road, so that the time should halt.  That we fell into embraces like how much we belonged there.  That we tasted the nectar like our lips had never tasted love before.

How would it matter what we were? The two eternal souls randomly collided in the complex machinery of existence?  Why would it matter?

That we existed is truth. Like the peacock that flew right above our head and no one else but we two saw it.  If we two had not noticed it, would it mean that the peacock never existed? It did.

Song without a voice

May 31, 2014

He was struggling. Don’t know for how long, but for the past week – when he had been ill and lying in bed all the day and night – he had been struggling – not only with the fever and the vertigo it brought – but also for the something that was still elusive, still out of his reach. What was it that he took birth for? The thumping in his skull – which lingered even after the fever was gone – was somehow from his own pain.

“mera dard naghma e be_sadaa..”, he murmured. Faiz’s poem. My pain is a song without a voice. Why? Song? Without a voice? He again fell back into his headache – feeling awful like Gregor Samska.

Headache – or this feeling like pressure – like a lot is stuffed pack into the hollow skull – what? A song? Where’s the voice? He felt miserable, utterly miserable.

Many thought he was sad. Many others thought he should not be. But this song stuck in head finding no voice to come out, and not be sad? Not having a song is okay – you have a whole skull empty to fill with happiness, but now this something is not finding a way out – where to keep the happiness?

“What’s the default state of human mind?”, he again fell into a philosophy. Happiness? If it is, then I’m certainly not at equilibrium. Equilibrium.. the ability to see a coffee pot like a coffee pot..

“mere dard ko jo zubaa.n mile, mujhe mera naam o nisha mile..”, he was still not out of Faiz. If my pain gets a voice; I’ll get my own identity. His headache.. “mujhe daulat e dono.n jahaa.n mile..”, fever, falling asleep. I’ll get the worth of whole world.

The song, voiceless, kept thumping on the inner skull.

What is God? I need ideas!

February 10, 2012

Here I am back, this time not to tell something, but to ask all of you “what is God?”  I know this is one of the toughest questions one can have, but I don’t want to know what God really is, neither do I mean to ask “does He exist or not?” (now call me a sexist for calling Him “He”), I just want to know what God is for you.

Which way leads to Thou, oh God!

I want to know your personal opinions and not what your religion thinks about it, but if you are putting your thoughts as a representative of your religion, please put a note to let me know such.  You can put your thoughts in comments, or if they are lengthy enough, you can trackback on your own blog.

I hope this ordeal would help me to get a better understanding of one of the most complicated ideas of human conception, and hopefully I will get some insight into my philosophy of God too.

Lest we, the people of India, forget…

November 26, 2011

November 26! The Constitution of India was adapted and enacted on this date in 1949; exactly 52 years ago. Surprisingly, most of my fellow citizens do not know the importance of this date and those who know tend to forget it for some reasons (it would be a topic for a separate post)!

Constitution of India, the supreme law of the land, is the document of foremost important to us. It’s the originator and the guardian of the rights we enjoy: The freedom of expression, freedom of religion, right to equality, just to mention a few. While all of us benefit from these rights, most of us conveniently fail to attribute the due respect to the Constitution of India. Most of us just think that we have this freedom because it has naturally been such for ages.

I have seen many of my friends thinking the Constitution of India is only to benefit a section of the society while they see it as an obstacle for growth their individual growth. But my dear friend, if we need to grow as a nation, we must keep in mind:

The growth of individuals does not constitute the growth of a nation; if we must grow as a nation, we must grow as a whole.

And if you are on the sufferer’s end, then someone needs to be there. If the nation asks a part of your individual growth for the growth of the community, you must be the happiest person to offer it.

On this November 26th, let’s pay our tribute to the supreme law of the land; lest we forget it is the Constitution of India that makes us what we are!

Can I ever get out of towel?

October 10, 2011

This is not a post-a-day post.  I would write it even if I were not on a post-a-day mission.  This is why I had started this blog — The Blog of Reflections — to catch such of my moods, the times when I am lost somewhere, somewhere in or around me, or you, or don’t know where!

I should really take some classes on how to live life.  At this moment, I should have been singing Alvida Alvida loudly with Kailash Kher; I am instead scratching this post lowering the volume of my speakers.

Yesterday, as I was coming back from Reshimbag ground, a 30-something-year-old guy was arguing loudly with his companion on some stupid subject; it was all going in English (so uncommon on Indian streets).  They were apparently drunk, so steamed up, arguing with passionate hand movements, loud voices, a perfect drama.  I sat down on footpath and watched them fighting for long until some other guy came and took them away.  I got up and started walking back to home.

There was some van standing outside the bar.  They were offloading the wine packs from it.  Bottles of different shapes and sizes and colors.  People were coming in and out of the bar.  How lively they seemed!  I cannot even think of drinking, yaaack!  But then why don’t I look as happy as they d0?

Can I ever go out of towel?

Can I ever get out of towel?

I came on main street.  Some procession was going on, Durga immersion (don’t know how it came after Vijaya Dashmi)!  Really loud loudspeakers, heatingly fast drums, some bizarre steel-plate-like instruments making loud cymbal-like noise–mischievously tickling to the eardrums!  Everything so perfect to make you dance, move on the beats.  I stopped.  Watched the procession going, the drummers beating the drums synchronously, in high passion, all in sweats, dhan dhana dhan dhan, guys and girls dancing, playing fugadi–and me–I can’t even dance, not because I have two left legs, but because I don’t have the heart that one needs to dance.  For a moment, I felt I should go and just move, just move as bizarre as I can, that I should forget myself, forget the weight my soul needs to bear 24×7.  I didn’t do that.  I just reclined back to a car parked there and watched the dance with a calm that would suite only to an unrelated funeral.

I want to forget this stuff.  I want to forget what I am; in fact, I need to forget that I am, that I exist.  And just and enjoy the life, the breath going deep in my spastic lungs, the breath coming out of my nostrils.  I want to go out naked on the road when it is still dawn and feel the cool breeze tickling my senses.  I want to go out and sing loud without damn caring about what the next guy will think.  I want to go at some deep dark place and make a loud cry until I lose my sane.

Hmm, enough with impotent thinking–I know I can’t get out of towel even in the bathroom.

Killing time

May 30, 2011

I don’t know what’s this place where I’m sitting; or let’s say I know what’s this place, but I would rather not disclose it for the interest of my security reasons (as if I am Omar Abdullah @abdullah_omar)! I would describe this place with the shair of Shaharayar ‘Yeh kya jagah hai dosto’ just because this line sounds good, poetic etc., but I’ve reserved that shair to describe my home (especially for the second line: had e nigah tak jahaa.n gubaar hi gubar hai)!

So, this is some road in the city of Nagpur and I am killing time sitting on some red bench! I don’t know who this Parinay Ramesh Fuke is, but may god bless him; this bench seems to be placed here with his courtesy!

Okays 🙂 so I’m in a bit of philosophical mood thinking what shall I do to feel a bit more narciccistic (hell with this word, I’m not gonna check it’s spelling)? I think I should try to make daily clean shaves and remove the blackheads on and around my nose 😉 Hmm, i need to stop, character limit 😦