You are a name wound within my fist
I carry your destiny, your very soul
A prism of glass, where colors twist
And quiver, evolve to transparent gold
You're a force I reckon with, as I must
To hold your storm, and steer your flight
So your path is strewn with pretty stardust
So your hands will cup their full delight
You are a sliver of underwater, new
I lay down pebbles, and watch your swifts
You wash the wind, drink of grass's dew
I swallow the rain, the earth, I shift
You are a mountain goat that wants to play
I teach you to yearn after faraway moors
The sky is a knife, its blade of grey
I turn it to red, of evening lure
You are my wind-chased daffodil
I hasten to lift your sun-smile brow
I weep when you cradle my heart, until
We bury each other in the valley below
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
A Children's Day Lesson
I spent the whole of yesterday in the company of little people who somehow managed to make me feel small.
Being Children's day, I was invited to be a guest at a grand competition for kids from all across India and the neighboring countries. Contrary to my usual practice of turning such things down, I agreed, and I'm glad I did.
Are kids just getting smarter with each passing decade? How can that be? The world is getting to be a worse place to live in, what with the global warming, and the holes in the sky, and excessive pollution, and the harmful pesticides in crops and blah blah blah...well, that should result in dumb, lethargic children who are doomed to fail or die early.
But happily, that is as far from the truth as is possible. Those kids were 'out there' to say the least. I remember myself at the age of 15- bashful, an introvert, terribly lacking in confidence despite the fact that I had some accomplishments in music and I was a very good student. Still, I could never bring myself to announce those facts to an audience of strangers. But oh, those kids seemed to have no such qualms.
'They are very confident, aren't they? Some of them, too confident even!' Thus spoke the judge on my left. I had to nod my head in agreement. Thankfully, there were a couple of bashful kids as well, who turned out to be extremely talented and smart, and that provided some comfort to my 15 yr old self's bruised ego.
Talent aside, what made some of them really special was their level of awareness and empathy. The work that some of them had done was truly amazing- raising funds for cancer, working with HIV+ children, sponsoring the education of Dalit girls in a remote Nepali tribe... The passion, the drive, the belief that they could, in their own way, change the world, all that seemed remotely familiar to me. And then I realized, with a pang of guilt, that all my awareness and empathy had dissipated with age.
Why is it that most of us morph into such self-obsessed adults? Why does the need to do something entirely unselfish for someone else gradually diminish as we grow older? Is it because we 'grow up' and realize that the world would only exploit such kindness? Or is it because we have failed to 'grow up' at all?
As I watched those kids strut their stuff, I suddenly grew anxious. I wanted to tell them, don't let the world get to you! It's a cold, hard, cynical place, but don't let that change you! People you love will hurt you, friends you trust will desert you, money will evade you when you most need it, courage will be inaccessible when you most require it... but don't let that kill your beautiful spirit!
Then I remembered, that kind of thing happened to me all the time. And I used to be so scornful of those preachy adults, who tried to teach me about the world. Because in my mind, I could do no wrong, the world was mine for the taking. I had everything on my side- youth, ambition, dreams, talent. How could I possibly fail at anything that I set my mind on doing?
I hadn't counted on the fact that maybe those adults weren't just preaching after all. I hadn't counted on the fact that being good at what you do and having a good heart, is nowhere near good enough. I hadn't counted on the fact that the world doesn't give a damn about good intentions. And I hadn't counted on the fact that the world really doesn't give a damn about anyone, including me.
But how can you say all that to a child, bright-eyed and glowing with success after having won the competition?
Being Children's day, I was invited to be a guest at a grand competition for kids from all across India and the neighboring countries. Contrary to my usual practice of turning such things down, I agreed, and I'm glad I did.
Are kids just getting smarter with each passing decade? How can that be? The world is getting to be a worse place to live in, what with the global warming, and the holes in the sky, and excessive pollution, and the harmful pesticides in crops and blah blah blah...well, that should result in dumb, lethargic children who are doomed to fail or die early.
But happily, that is as far from the truth as is possible. Those kids were 'out there' to say the least. I remember myself at the age of 15- bashful, an introvert, terribly lacking in confidence despite the fact that I had some accomplishments in music and I was a very good student. Still, I could never bring myself to announce those facts to an audience of strangers. But oh, those kids seemed to have no such qualms.
'They are very confident, aren't they? Some of them, too confident even!' Thus spoke the judge on my left. I had to nod my head in agreement. Thankfully, there were a couple of bashful kids as well, who turned out to be extremely talented and smart, and that provided some comfort to my 15 yr old self's bruised ego.
Talent aside, what made some of them really special was their level of awareness and empathy. The work that some of them had done was truly amazing- raising funds for cancer, working with HIV+ children, sponsoring the education of Dalit girls in a remote Nepali tribe... The passion, the drive, the belief that they could, in their own way, change the world, all that seemed remotely familiar to me. And then I realized, with a pang of guilt, that all my awareness and empathy had dissipated with age.
Why is it that most of us morph into such self-obsessed adults? Why does the need to do something entirely unselfish for someone else gradually diminish as we grow older? Is it because we 'grow up' and realize that the world would only exploit such kindness? Or is it because we have failed to 'grow up' at all?
As I watched those kids strut their stuff, I suddenly grew anxious. I wanted to tell them, don't let the world get to you! It's a cold, hard, cynical place, but don't let that change you! People you love will hurt you, friends you trust will desert you, money will evade you when you most need it, courage will be inaccessible when you most require it... but don't let that kill your beautiful spirit!
Then I remembered, that kind of thing happened to me all the time. And I used to be so scornful of those preachy adults, who tried to teach me about the world. Because in my mind, I could do no wrong, the world was mine for the taking. I had everything on my side- youth, ambition, dreams, talent. How could I possibly fail at anything that I set my mind on doing?
I hadn't counted on the fact that maybe those adults weren't just preaching after all. I hadn't counted on the fact that being good at what you do and having a good heart, is nowhere near good enough. I hadn't counted on the fact that the world doesn't give a damn about good intentions. And I hadn't counted on the fact that the world really doesn't give a damn about anyone, including me.
But how can you say all that to a child, bright-eyed and glowing with success after having won the competition?
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The rain that falls...
The world has been scrubbed clean today. Everything green stands out in defiance to the blanket of gray-dominated sky.
There is still the after-math to deal with - over-flowing potholes, flooded lanes, rain-sodden clothes that couldn't be saved in time, the occasional accidental electrocution, tell-tale mud splatters, spells of darkness, televisions blanking out, roofs that cave in, doors that can't keep the water out, mosquito colonies reinstating their supreme power, spineless umbrellas, truant school-kids sailing their ill-fated paper boats while determinedly dodging their over-worked mothers' repeated calls to come in...
It's poignant somehow, this ritual of rain. The way it falls, regardless of who or what it might be drenching, as oblivious to the spurts of joie de vivre as to the desecration of things, places, people...
It makes us fall in love, it makes us long for comfort in cocoa, it turns us into children again, it erodes our sense of permanence...
And it always, always makes me yearn... for what, I don't yet know.
There is still the after-math to deal with - over-flowing potholes, flooded lanes, rain-sodden clothes that couldn't be saved in time, the occasional accidental electrocution, tell-tale mud splatters, spells of darkness, televisions blanking out, roofs that cave in, doors that can't keep the water out, mosquito colonies reinstating their supreme power, spineless umbrellas, truant school-kids sailing their ill-fated paper boats while determinedly dodging their over-worked mothers' repeated calls to come in...
It's poignant somehow, this ritual of rain. The way it falls, regardless of who or what it might be drenching, as oblivious to the spurts of joie de vivre as to the desecration of things, places, people...
It makes us fall in love, it makes us long for comfort in cocoa, it turns us into children again, it erodes our sense of permanence...
And it always, always makes me yearn... for what, I don't yet know.
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