I know This Feeling!

she was standing, on the opposite platform. There was a distance of few meters between us. I could see her. The metro entered from the other side. It took over the distance between us.I could see her waving a bye, before metro engulfed her. And I was fucked. My heart crumbled. She was inside the metro. I cud see her no more. And in a moment she disappeared like the morning fog! I knew this feeling of desolation.It was not strange to me!

It was not for the first time I felt it. A sense of parting is quite present in my subconscious mind. I know, how much it pains when a thread breaks! SHe is here to stay. And yet i felt it! Perhaps this is what we call love! I am not amazed but numb. Love makes me numb. My heart pounced and I was full of deep anxiety. I wanted to deboard metro at some next metro station. I was almost in tears! And I was thinking, but she is here to stay!

In the hindsight, I cud feel the separation. I am aware of longings and love. Memories haunted me for years. She made me forget every mental torture. May be it’s her sight I don”t wanna lose. As she sits next to me, all my senses roam like a drunkard! All that I cud sense is she. All that I feel is she. All that I wish I cud ever have is she. I am not possessive. I am passionate for her, like a spectator is for the game. The only difference is that, I am there for her in her lows as well. Perhaps I have engendered her into my mind like a nerve cell. And I cud not sense beyond her! Perhaps, I could not dream her disappearance ! I know this feeling!

Emotions are so integral to human. Perhaps makes us human.Amazing that sometimes , how short do we fell of words and couldn’t express in exact terms , what we feel! Love and belongingness was cited as a need by Maslow. That there are some emotions and they almost make us feel so connected ,  truly amazing! Notwithstanding the past or future, love assures us of its magnificence . Love is a medium within medium. All I knw, if thr is some thing which lies within my chest, where all my anxiety rest, is the true source of love, for it is in her presence that I could find some solace at that place. And when I saw her disappearing behind metal wheels, I felt anxiety at the same place where I could felt solace in her presence. I know this feeling and it was never strange to me , yet She took with her, all my solace!

 

The Excess of “Gyaan”.

Sitting opposite to my interviewer,I was feeling strange-not nervous at all.I wanted to be nervous, but coudn’t manage to achieve it. He stretched his neck into the laptop and asked me to introduce myself. It was strange,for my resume covers most of me.I was numb for almost two minutes and then he argued further,”resume doesn’t talks”..to which I replied in haste, Ohhh!! You want me to talk..As I started pouring all my “Gyaan” infront of him..but i forgot to introduce my readers with this word called Gyaan..It means knowledge.Gyaan is a hindi word.So i strated pouring all my gyaan about my self infront of him, which invited unwanted attention and subsequent questions…As it enters into it’s final stage, My interviewer asked me , “why did you skip Kashmir and chose other news items”. To which i humbly replied that , I dont follow Kashmir..and invited a subsequent question, why?? I added further, I cannot see a state perpetrating atrocities on its own subjects..But the interviewer was a patriot, how can one criticize govt infront of him.He argued for stop reading ‘The Hindu” as its anti state..I was bewildered with this excess of Gyaan being poured upon me..I chipped in and countered, it’s pro people, pro citizen thinking and might at times be conflictual with the orthodox govt view but to change govt’s orthodox views on the matters of rights of individuals is what a responsible citizen and press strives for..The interviewer was confident, like all patriots.And he must be.He was overflowing with gyaan.And i was confused.

As we evolve, our abilities to understand things gets better.This doesn’t necessarily means that we ought to be responsible all the time. As a biological machine, we ought to make mistakes.To err is human, a famous saying argues.With evolution, as our capabilities enhance and some of us become more equal then others, we often get overwhelmed.Overwhelmed by the sheer joy of being an intellectual and a thinker.And sometimes a practitioner.There are ideas which captivate our imaginations. We make them our ideologies. I donot see affection but an attachment to ideas and ideologies.Its necessary at times, for it puts much needed passion and gravity in our actions or efforts.We strive and argue for and against and often in the process forget to learn.The idea of human machine is a self evolving one. How do we evolve?? I think by continuously challenging our preconceived notions and prejudices.It’s a much needed exercise which challenges the orthodox in us and enhances our rationality, before we go obsolete.The state of perpetual proclamation of sovereignty over knowledge and overwhelming zeal to act as the guardian of ideology is what I call as “Excess of Gyaan”. Is it harmful-in the relative terms it’s destructive.All of us, once or twice in life go through this zeal of overwhelming urge to pour our knowledge onto someone else and contend a right over his inability or confusion.So sure we do feel.Like my interviewer who was so sure of his acumen that he argued against a newspaper which has a history of fighting against britishers and socio economic and socio psychological disparity.How well thought he was before he astonishingly dethroned a millenia old newspaper from its right ful place.The argument here is that, how do we judge? Judgement demands understanding and subsequesntly I argue, do we have time to understand?? Most of us usually never bother of thinking.Perhaps that’s human nature.Then how do we evolve? How do we better ourselves? How do we break such stereotypes? It’s a bit tough situation.The argumentation has crossed limits of self correction.In order to put ourselves frankly, we are enforcing ourselves onto others.Do we ever think, whether to argue or not to??

This question brings me to another observation. Most of us argue in order to defeat.The argumentative character is somehow missing.The debates get passionate as huge amount of ego’s clash and inorder to attain somethinh we attain nothing but a demise , notonly of the level of public discourse but of the tradition and learning as well.The excess of gyaan hurts us severely here.Inability to understand that one must think whether is it necessary to make an argument and will it judge the other guy and if it does what rationale and reason do we have to substantiate our argument, is ironic.

At the core of argumentative nature is  a zeal to learn and as Professor Sen argues, an ability to not to get overwhelmed by an idea.The excess of Gyaan is a curse to healthy public discourse.It hampers growth and evolutionary process.It’s imperative to develop within ourselves a tendency to accept and embrace our existence along with counter currents as well.

“Äre You Here To Stay”

I saw you.I never saw anything similar to you.I saw you from almost one hundred yards and yet I cudn’t believe it’s you.I shivered in excitement.I was moved by my longings.I foresaw two parallel universes submerging into one.I took long strides.It was chaotic their.I cudn’t hear anything except you.You were on your phone.I saw your face first.Nah, it was hairs.Like bristles of brush, they were soaked in golden paint as if falling sunbeams were reflecting a golden state of mind.Your lips were moving like leafs of a sesame tree,striking different chords at the same time.I wanted to see you before this dream could break.I longed for this evening for like years and when it was right there standing infront of me, I just dont wanted to move, to take a step further, for I was afraid of loosing this glimpse of hope again.Sometimes the best thing is life is to observe, without being a part of it.No?I saw your feet next, but before that my eyes slipped through your top onto the off greyish denim of yours.I loved the color.Its kinda soothing to my eyes,but the top was a bit crafty and classic with imprints of “pacchekari”.I loved the lines and the games they were playing on your top.All of you were not visible at one glance.I saw you in bits and pieces and the whole as I joined them all came out to be greater then the parts.I was still on the right side of the road and you were on the left.I am always confused with your right and my left.So to say that you were standing on the oppoiste side of the road, it wont be less if I argue I travelled many lightyears just to reach upto you as if you were the supernova my eyes were desperately waiting for.In moments i was standing on the devider. I travelled with a speed of light.And i was in no hurry to reach upto you.The mind argued, but the heart-already was standing next to you.There were buses, there were cars, there were motorcycles and there were other vehicles as well.You were like a shadow appearing every now and then, like it was a cloudy day.But the winds were calm and i had no idea what my feet longed.I saw you once and then twice, peeking through the small distances inbetween moving lights.I wanted to hold your hand before I stumble.And I could wait no more.I took courage and give my hand to the desperately forward moving superman, sitting in a car…Next moment I was standing right infront of you.I looked at your face and your hand.And i saw your lips and ears.I saw you teeth.It was a flash.I sneaked at the edges of your lips, they contracted a bit to let open a shimmering light into my dark world.The ebbs were gone from the sight, i was captivated by the might, of the love, belonging and happiness that just hit me like photons hit the electrode surface.May be I saw your eyes first or perhaps it was whole of you-conjured infront of me like a shooting star.You conjured a magical universe infront of me.I talked to you.We started to move.In the same direction we headed to spend an eve.I watched your denim only to find it flawlessly falling on your golden sandals with black strips attached to it.I could hear the sound of my moving heart.As we moved and crossed impediments over impediments I felt numb and ecstatic, ironic but true.The golden shades of brush flowing in the wind and under the shade of which I could experience the warmth of love and coolness of morning breeze.Before you , my emptyness had no meaning, you filled it with your presence and made it meaningful.Like a winter night your sight fell upon me in a moment and i could do nothing but to get dipped in it, like I am the tall oak covered from tip to toe in snow and feeling the might of night falling upon me, not bit by bit, but as if a whole blanket was thrown upon me.I was in fear before I met you, but I couldn’t distinguish it the moment I saw you.I saw your sharp nose, the edges of whom were peiercing a hole into my heart and the sharp chin, curvey at the two edges.And i saw a red mark right in the middle of it where it dips in a bit to raise your lips towards me.And I saw it all while moving and while you and I were stand still.So long in fear, I couldn’t understand whats going on.As if like a caged bird i forgot how to fly and laugh when i could see liberty bowing at my feet.I longed for you and here I am trying to figure out , are you for real or again i conjured you out of my deepest desires.Are you here to stay ?? I asked again and again …

“Losing it all”

She: I think we should stop talking

Me: I knew this was coming…..

She: If you know everything, then why at the very first stance you did it? Anyways, who am i to say anything to you??

Me:Everything…..

And this is how i lost another friend of mine.Does it hurts? Ofcourse. DOes it pains?? Ofcours yes.But then as once Sen argued,  that we have layers of heart if one breaks the other one covers it up. Making friends is not my habit, but losing one seems to be.I don’t count assets as friends.Some does, but that’s their problem.I don’t make too many friends , some does, that’s their problem.I lose too many friends , some do not and that’s entirely my problem.I can count them all on my fingers-I celebrate it-and slowly and steadily I am amputating one by one all of my fingers-I pity that.My contact list is shorter than an A4 size paper.Some envy it.To me it’s a luxury-perhaps I don’t even bother about storing numbers.

We are limited. Our horizon is regulated or perhaps amputated.Sometimes we move upside down, just to have another way , another angle and another measure to visualize this world.I tried it, but still didn’t find any way to secure a friends due presence.I think I’m dumb.I read Simon.He argued that our rationality is bounded.I tried rationality and yet failed to find any way to secure my friends.I was bound to fail.May be my friends were extra-rational organisms.I read Follet, she said , conflict occurs when two different desires intersect each other.I tried to dominate, but she argued, do not..I then tried to compromise ..and she argued that compromises exacerbate desires..And then she asked for integration…And I was dumb enough to integrate every other desire except mine and yet, I failed.Mc gregor once said, a good manager steers away right in the middle of conflict without exacerbating the conflict but by resolving it.I tried to steer but they sank my boat by arguing , Dont fucking manipulate ..

Sometimes i think, am I the only one losing it all.I see human as an accumulation of all that they are not.We are a conglomeration of relations , assets so on and so forth.We accumulate.And in this way I find myself weird.I think I am less human.Other then fundamentals, i have nothing else to rejoice. I never made friends with ideals.Once, before leaving, a friend called me an “Idealist”.I was perturbed.Love is fundamental, how can you call a person,  who beholds love and compassion above rest of the world, an idealist??? I was bemused. I think I am dumb.Couldn’t get her.I pity my understanding.I think i talk a lot.But then another friend said,that “you are very patient.You give me space and time.you listen to me.”I am abnormal.And as an abnormal person i feel the heat of opinions.Sometimes i don’t care but on the other occasions, I use to delete my contact list and profiles.I have no physical friends.Probably few.Sometimes I think I m losing it all like my mind and on the other occasions I am full of anxiety.Not of losing people–its a routine ofcourse-but of amputating my fingers.Do you understand ??

Why do we lose people? Or perhaps why do we accumulate them in the first place. In “The Social Contract”,Rousseau argued that , “man is a social animal”.Solitude is a luxury but social interaction–a necessity. Jainism argues that, the moment we are born our meter starts to run.The Karmic meter.”Karma is the bane of soul”–Jainism.Relations I think are Karmic in nature.”We are our choices”, argued Satre. A bad choice and we are done. That’s what happened with me……May be or perhaps i have no right to put people into categories of good and bad or right and wrong.If on a generalized plane I could see, i think the most fitting thing for them would be– is to leave me.Afterall Affording stupidity is un-economic and unhygienic.No???I don’t know about others , but I lose people, coz I care for them and love them.This is an abnormal activity.And I am particularly good in all of my bad habits.I don’t wish to prune myself of it.

Will it ever stop?? How long can i afford?? How many left? Who is well deserved? Should I go into Social seclusion? Noooooooo..Never..Okey…can I think of deleting my contact list and social media profile ..like..Once again!!!!!!!!

The anxiety of loosing it all, of being alone at the end.Its like heaven.A heaven without people to interact, to listen, to cheer, to share and so on….You loose people and you realize nothing is more prized then a shared happiness and a sorrow being discussed.You loose people and realize how sane this world is and how insane the things in your room are.You loose people and realize..Love hurts..You loose people and realize..all hurts are momentary but to some wounds ..this hope that their is no transmigration of soul gives a sigh of relief…Alas, with the last breath, their will be an end to all of it…

 

प्यार का तरीका

बाबू तू सोयेगी नहीं I मेरे कानो में यह आवाज़ जाते ही मेरा मन लपका उस ऒर देखने को I मिनी बस की सबसे पीछे की सीट पर , कोने में खिड़की से चिपकी एक महिला I कपड़े कुछ मैले से , आँखों के नीचे गाढ़े काले रंग के धब्बे I हड्डियों के बीच चेहरा लापता सा अपने आप को ढूंढ रहा था I रंग के नाम पर सिर्फ भूरे रंग के निशान I सर्दी के कपड़ो में लिपटी वो , शाल से ढकी अनैमिक लग रही थी I उसका सर बार बार झुका जा रहा था I नींद के झोंके उसकी गर्दन को मनो मरोड़े जा रहे थे I उसका पति एवं दो बच्चे उसकी ऒर आस की नजर से देख रहे थे I पति उसके गालो पर थप्पड़ों की बरसात किये हुए था I इरादा उसे सोने नहीं देने का था I किसी फेमिनिस्ट ने नहीं देखा , भला हुआ , नहीं तो मामला कचेहरी तक पहोच जाता I कभी कभी प्यार कैसे किया जाये यह भी एक मसला हो जाता है I उसका पति उसको घुसा दिखा रहा था I अपनी पुरानी ज्यादतियों की याद दिलाते हुए उसको धमका रहा था I किसी भी हाल में उसे सोने न देना ही उसके पति का एक मात्र लक्षय था I इन सब में प्यार भरपूर था I कुछ लोग मैले कुचले कपड़े देख किनारा काट रहे थे I उसके बच्चे निश्चिंत हो आगे की सीट पर बैठ बiहर का नजारा देख रहे थे I मनो हॉस्पिटल जाना उनके लिए पिकनिक सामान था I महिलाएं पति को घृणा की दृष्टि से देख रही थी I प्यार करने के तरीके में एक पुरुषत्व था I पितृसत्ता की झलक से ओत प्रोत था वह दृश्य I कभी कभी सोचता हु , जरुरी क्या है , प्यार या उसका तरीका ?

And It’s Half DOne Yet

I looked out of the window.It was cold out there, colder then in here , inside the room.Strong ground guzzling sound of trucks was penetrating the feary silence of night.Every nook and corner was infiltrated by the haze.A shallow mist hanging right few feet over the ground.Like all of a sudden, distance between stars and the earth collapsed into few meters.The only visible object was a neem tree.Silent! standing like a branched pillar.Leaves were calm but sad, not sleepy at ol.I looked around.I thought , He will come.My friend Rupesh.He left half drunk.I observed continence. I usually do not.But at home, U cant argue against ur principles.Yes, sometimes i do get carried away.After all we are human’s. Made to err, No? By the way, I registered my self again on Facebook.Though I feel Social media as an important way to express ourselves, yet something in me argues for solitude.I prefer books over People.Often, Dog’s fight at nights act as a reminder, Not All are Asleep…No? During the last six days, the number of dogfights overtook actual number of dogs.Sometimes I hate it.Yes I know, Its an expression of life, But it’s fucking chaotic.It breaks the rhythm of night. Nothing , I feel in this world is more beautiful then the rhythm that night attains.Its smooth and as a friend Calls every time, “Nice”. This calmness looks nice.To seek it in chaos, makes it more valuable.The day to day chaos.Past six days flew like a bird.There was fear before that.A fear not of failure but of an nonviable attempt to success.The barrier was high.And our weak mind often construes meager things as an exaggerated  expression of reality.Fear was natural, for an insight into losing some very attainable point of peak experience fills us with a deep psychological pressure.I turned so many pages, that i forget counting them.Black ink soaked pages.Repeated underlines had a different story.That someone went through them many a times, yet failed to recollect them.No, Not the meaning, but the exact expression.Word by word.For some it’s important that u become machine in process.They force you to go through same things so many times, that you will become a simple cog in the machine.A fitting nut–maybe.Some nights went sleepless, Almost. And some went in fighting with the sleepy hollow.Green carpet on my floor almost got occupied with a heap of useless waste.The A4 size waste.The whole spine went through the tyranny  of constructing a machine out of this meaty loaf called body.I think I m exaggerating it.Often I took it in lighter way.It needs to be, for human has much to achieve and aspire  than to become mere a bull.Doing repetitive tasks ever and ever again.The whole nature of modern system has changed into an exploitative one.Six hours of continuous writing on a wall, and yet the demand remains unsatisfied.As and when I looked down the two floors, to the ground from the balcony adjacent to the rum where i was allotted a no, I saw machines.Knowledge workers , may be.After ol attempt is to make exploitation symbolically attractive, No?I differ with Marx. Strongly differ with him.His ways were radical.Aspirational.His attempt was bold.But his understanding was one of the best thing.The most lucrative thing, for any oppressed.Though i differ with him yet somewhere when it comes to recruitments into civil services, I cannot but confer with him.The whole attempt is to make it elitist.More machinic.More distant from the general conscience.If there were some not so good things then there were some good tooTall girls attract you immediately.But the percentage was below 2%.See quantification has become an inherent trait.We use to pass smile.Sometimes , there was a strong urge to reach out to her.Her pencil bottom jeans, reaching just upto her bellies.Oh! no, it was a converse shoe. Her round face, with a mole right below at the left of her lower lip.Not adjacent but a few centimeters away from it.She was calm, pleasant and her nose was sharp pointed.Chin was round. Overall face was round and complexion a bit dusky.Dusky looks sexxy No.Six days we met and had eye contact. No words exchanged.May be she was expecting me to take the first step.May be i was to thinking the same.May be there was something tied inside me, which revoked myself.  And finally we crossed each other and walk along different lines, May be to never meet each other, Perhaps Yes.

SO the fight is on.The effort is for a change.And to bring forth change one requires authority.”Authority commensurate to responsibility” as Fayol argued.After all these moments of last night fights one feels, what the fuck have you been doing  through out all those years.But to remember, Human beings suffer from what Simon called Bounded Rationality.The utility maximizer after all these efforts feels, So much for so little ,”And Yet, Its Half DOne”.

Shiven

 

A River of Memories

Last time we talked, it was march at its top. Previous night, a whole bucket of water ran down and broke the troughs of normalcy at my wall. With my legs folded, entrapped , encircled under my hands and my eyes fixed on the screen of my laptop, my heart yearned for a walk into the past.Broken chains, dismantled traumatic events, signs of no relief , I looked back in a deep sigh of despairing longingness.Some songs doing rounds and silence so provocative….Some nostalgic moments hanging on walls of my heart.Hanging and hinged.The nails run deeper into the valves.And with profound despair i longed for you.longed for the hugs and the kisses. Longed the cuddles and early morning misses.Longed for the voice of u on the phone, for some of ur caller tones.Longed for the kajrari eyes and the glares.Longed for the winds rolling down ur hairs.Longed for the Scent of ur body , sticky sweat.Sounds while you pee..Your thought lingers longer than it seems.Like a snake our memories roll over me and in midst of ur hisses I often plunged into a river–of memories. A river of dark ruminations–of chain of events–long forgotten.So to say that i miss u took me longer than i presumed , notwithstanding this, I feel u are  distant then i cud ever assume.Ur voice sound familiar but the behaviour so strange.Some say judging is crime, but that’s what all judges do.

I felt, you were standing on the opposite side of the river. Your voice filled me with a hope– ruined off soon.As i digged deeper into my being.I  Felt–Wounds are here to stay–it doesn’t matters whether we forgive or forget.I wanted to cross that river and run into you and tell you all the truths I have been through.But the stranger in you sound bold….My burnt soul whispered, Hold on–for you can’t see–now this person exists on the parallel side of the river…You questioned–i was in fear.It was u–My  worst nightmare.On the opposite side of the river, standing in ur tall boots, u hardly know..What i  have been through.We shared this river of memories.We shared those cuddles.We shared those hugs.We shared those kisses.We shared some bites.We shared casual fights.We shared some laughter while ur eyeballs shined.We shared some common space and lived in each others place.We shared some moments of mutual love.We swam in river holding each other’s hand.We were there when the sun sat on the other side.You found refugee in my lap, when nights were cold and the moon was dark.We shoot the stars during starry nights and made tunnels through constellations .

People change , I often see.They become stranger, that perplexes me.You said u lived under my skin..And ruined me of the the very soul so akin..I hope some day, while passing through riverside…u might see the mighty tides of belongingness..It all turns cold and dark..like the Red sea.And may u  feel..How notwithstanding time, love bleeds…….

#Shiven