Saturday, June 21, 2008

Rain Messenger's Diary 5...Across A Thousand Wants

There was a time when I wanted to be free but then I realized it wasn’t easy. The stranglehold of circumstances was forcing me to react rather than take charge of it. I tried to fight it as there was a time when I wanted to be courageous but then I realized that courage was just a measure of how desperately you wanted to shield your cowardice.

I believed in my capacity of being happy. Emotions or feelings were not who I am, merely symptoms for those capable of seeing…to understand who I am. ‘I’ stood alone…distant from feelings…from fear…from mediocrity…from the monstrous virtues of the world…‘I’ stood free...‘I’ stood because ‘I’ existed…I survived…I loved every bit of it…not the spiritual enlightenment…I never believed in it but loving the very physical aspect of my existence…taking pride at the capacity of being able to look at myself with a detached pride.

I met a woman.

The feeling was not tender…the feeling of was not of a loving companionship…mellow and mild…it was a volcanic eruption shaking the very principles of my existence, it was the feeling of ownership and the feeling that I would gladly subjugate every bit of me to that which was mine and still the victory would be mine…

Victory…I know it is an unlikely word to use while talking of love…but you see, I do not believe in love as you believe in it and it doesn’t matter to me if you cannot identify with it…what for you is the base ‘lust’ is for me the crowning glory of my love…the celebration of my life…the exaltation of our existence.

She mocked me.

She held me at her power. She owned me. She knew that I who took pride in my power to be ‘I’ would stoop…would bargain anything and still want her …she teased me as a passing pastime not even worth a second glance…she insulted me and each insult, to me was a kiss sealing our bond. She broke me. There was no joy in her victory, but we could not exist together. She was too free and I wanted her to fly in my sky. She broke me because I was weak…She broke me because she understood that I needed to be broken.

She broke me…so I love her.
I know my love for her is worse to her than being lashed with a spiked whip…she bleeds.
We both travelled across a thousand blades, detesting each other…fighting each other and yet holding on desperately as if to our last lifeline.

Then, she broke apart.

The purpose in my life was gone and I was the most depraved being—the man without a purpose, yet somewhere I knew I had it in me. My strength was the ability to act…I had lost it. For months, I did not even look for it seeking refuge in the revoltingly cheap consolations…nothing really can be done…nothing really makes a difference…you have done your best…or the worst of all…everything will be alright.

Along came a friend, not with the sympathy of a brutal killer but with the harsh discipline of a military general and with an assurance that almost seemed like an absolute truth…that the answer lies inside…and then I searched. It wasn’t easy, it was as if the universe conspired against me, the grief lay heavy on my heart, the barbaric betrayals drove me to violent bursts of anger yet I found the calm…as now I could act, now I knew the way, everything was easy. My friend held on. The pain of my effort finding expression in her face and the strength of her belief finding expression in my steady defiance... Greed--- that is the virtue…I discovered. The greed to be the best, to achieve what we can without compromises…without consideration of the unworthy have-nots because by being the best is how we can ‘best’ serve individuals………society does not exist, individuals do…and the only way to respect their existence is by respecting mine because if I don’t make a difference, who will? Now, I am greedy…

Again, I ask myself now…what do you want?
To be free, answers the friend inside.
Siempre…

Rain Messenger's Diary 5...Across A Thousand Wants

There was a time when I wanted to be free but then I realized it wasn’t easy. The stranglehold of circumstances was forcing me to react rather than take charge of it. I tried to fight it as there was a time when I wanted to be courageous but then I realized that courage was just a measure of how desperately you wanted to shield your cowardice.

I believed in my capacity of being happy. Emotions or feelings were not what who I am, merely symptoms for those capable of seeing…to understand who I am. ‘I’ stood alone…distant from feelings…from fear…from mediocrity…from the monstrous virtues of the world…‘I’ stood free...‘I’ stood because of ‘I’ existed…I survived…I loved every bit of it…not the spiritual enlightenment…I never believed in it but loving the very physical aspect of my existence…taking pride at the capacity of being able to look at myself with a detached pride.

I met a woman.

The feeling was not tender…the feeling of was not of a loving companionship…mellow and mild…it was a volcanic eruption of the shaking the very principles of my existence, it was the feeling of ownership and the feeling that I would gladly subjugate every bit of me to that which was mine and still the victory would be mine…

Victory…I know it is an unlikely word to use while talking of love…but you see, I do not believe in love as you believe in it and it doesn’t matter to me if you cannot identify with it…what for you is the base ‘lust’ is for me the crowning glory of my love…the celebration of my life…the exaltation of our existence.

She mocked me.

She held me at her power. She owned me. She knew that I who took pride in my power to be ‘I’ would stoop…would bargain anything and still want her …she teased me as a passing pastime not even worth a second glance…she insulted me and each insult, to me was a kiss sealing our bond. She broke me. There was no joy in her victory, but we could not exist together. She was too free and I wanted her to fly in my sky. She broke me because I was weak…She broke me because she understood that I needed to be broken.

She broke me…so I love her.
I know my love for her is worse to her than being lashed with a spiked whip…she bleeds.
We both travelled across a thousand blades, detesting each other…fighting each other and yet holding on desperately as if to our last lifeline.

Then, she broke apart.

The purpose in my life was gone and I was the most depraved being—the man without a purpose, yet somewhere I knew I had it in me. My strength was the ability to act…I had lost it. For months, I did not even look for it seeking refuge in the revoltingly cheap consolations…nothing really can be done…nothing really makes a difference…you have done your best…or the worst of all…everything will be alright.

Along came a friend, not with the sympathy of a brutal killer but with the harsh discipline of a military general and with an assurance that almost seemed like an absolute truth…that the answer lies inside…and then I searched. It wasn’t easy, it was as if the universe conspired against me, the grief lay heavy on my heart, the barbaric betrayals drove me violent bursts of anger yet I found the calm…as now I could act, now I knew the way, everything was easy. My friend held on. The pain of my effort finding expression in her face and the strength of her belief finding expression in my steady defiance... Greed--- that is the virtue…I discovered. The greed to be the best, to achieve what we can without compromises…without consideration of the unworthy have-nots because by being the best is how we can ‘best’ serve individuals………society does not exist, individuals do…and the only way to respect their existence is by respecting mine because if I don’t make a difference, who will? Now, I am greedy…

Again, I ask myself now…what do you want?
To be free, answers the friend inside.
Siempre…

Sunday, June 15, 2008

When Rain Falls


When rain falls…
On the evening sky
Shattering the sombre silence
With the sparkling swords
Unleashed from grey sheaths
The world looks up to see
The pattern of eternity
Etched on infinity
Waiting to be deciphered…
Waiting to be understood…

When rain falls…
On the dawn-lit end of night
Heralding the morning freshness
With a platter of myriad colours
Trespassing on sun’s kingdom
While it looks on with indulgence
The present of love
On the grey-dom of humanity
Waiting to be embraced…
Waiting to drown…

When rain falls…
I wonder…
Would it rain…
Just for me…
To hold on to…and live

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Rain Messenger's Diary 4...On Atheism

Revolution and Religion, two of the most abused words in history, which has become synonymous with hypocrisy, façade and elaborate masquerades behind which details of human being’s fall is hidden. The story of death, power-hunger, and human(dead, usually…)ladders. From the Jehads to the Crusades to riots, it has served but one purpose that of anarchy and ultimate ruin of common man while keeping some happy enough to sing the glory of a shaped-stone.

The utter uselessness of the demarcations of the “super-being” and consequently, the outrageous con of creating a “super-being” is so ridiculously evident that most choose (safely…) not to see it. And, thus came…the ‘Nastiks’, ‘Kafirs’ or ‘Atheists’ branded, ostracized from society looked upon as pitiful beings for whose souls the other “blessed” souls must pray. Thus, came the handful of men unrelated and unknown to each other but bound by a deep courage to face the truth rather than live clutching a fairy tale. Men who would accept the truth that we are terribly alone and nobody is watching over us or our actions (except maybe the police at times…) and we must face the consequences alone…no benevolent God to bail us out of this one…

The point of this article is not, however, to reprimand those “lolly-pop” sucking kid-adults who are still engaged in childish games of bowing to a burning ball of gas which will unwaveringly bring about their ultimate ruin…or dangerous ones such as killing other fellow-children in the name of petty tribal feuds…called clash of religious ideals or riots. The point of this article is to talk to or about the pseudo-atheists or theists corrupting atheism as they have no idea about what atheism is.

Atheism is not being different as a stunt like a crow wearing peacock’s feathers nor is it meant to be a statement that “I’m a hero…courageous and valiant…O’ bow to me…”... then he is the most religious person ever…because he seeks a fan-following. But, most importantly atheism is not meant to be spread for the simple reason that it cannot be spread. It is a realization of ideas…of facts already present. It has to be done by oneself…trying to spread it, is like explaining that time is relative to a kindergarten student…(now please do not get cute with me, atheism cannot be taught even when the kids grow up…for the reason that people who believe never grow up…they live in “belief”-land.) Atheism also does not mean looking down on people…lets look down on the fundamentalist chameleons but please, let us learn to differentiate between them and honest victims who really do believe in religion. Atheism is about letting them be…it is about standing against everything that religion stands for…group-ism…do’s and don’ts…divide and rule.
Atheists are meant to be people quiet not vociferous in their knowledge but at the same time firm in their conviction of the truth. Atheists are meant to be people restrained not overboard about proving that they are right but at the same time holding on unwaveringly to the fact that they are right…and wait for the change in tide of things.
Atheism is an extreme philosophy, it does not stand for half measures…either you are an atheist or you are not…if you are not then why pretend?

Rain Messenger's Diary 4...On Atheism

Revolution and Religion, two of the most abused words in history, which has become synonymous with hypocrisy, façade and elaborate masquerades behind which details of human being’s fall is hidden. The story of death, power-hunger, and human(dead, usually…)ladders. From the Jehads to the Crusades to riots, it has served but one purpose that of anarchy and ultimate ruin of common man while keeping some happy enough to sing the glory of a shaped-stone.

The utter uselessness of the demarcations of the “super-being” and consequently, the outrageous con of creating a “super-being” is so ridiculously evident that most choose (safely…) not to see it. And, thus came…the ‘Nastiks’, ‘Kafirs’ or ‘Atheists’ branded, ostracized from society looked upon as pitiful beings for whose souls the other “blessed” souls must pray. Thus, came the handful of men unrelated and unknown to each other but bound by a deep courage to face the truth rather than live clutching a fairy tale. Men who would accept the truth that we are terribly alone and nobody is watching over us or our actions (except maybe the police at times…) and we must face the consequences alone…no benevolent God to bail us out of this one…

The point of this article is not, however, to reprimand those “lolly-pop” sucking kid-adults who are still engaged in childish games of bowing to a burning ball of gas which will unwaveringly bring about their ultimate ruin…or dangerous ones such as killing other fellow-children in the name of petty tribal feuds…called clash of religious ideals or riots. The point of this article is to talk to or about the pseudo-atheists or theists corrupting atheism as they have no idea about what atheism is.

Atheism is not being different as a stunt like a crow wearing peacock’s feathers nor is it meant to be a statement that “I’m a hero…courageous and valiant…O’ bow to me…”... then he is the most religious person ever…because he seeks a fan-following. But, most importantly atheism is not meant to be spread for the simple reason that it cannot be spread. It is a realization of ideas…of facts already present. It has to be done by oneself…trying to spread it, is like explaining that time is relative to a kindergarten student…(now please do not get cute with me, atheism cannot be taught even when the kids grow up…for the reason that people who believe never grow up…they live in “belief”-land.) Atheism also does not mean looking down on people…lets look down on the fundamentalist chameleons but please, let us learn to differentiate between them and honest victims who really do believe in religion. Atheism is about letting them be…it is about standing against everything that religion stands for…group-ism…do’s and don’ts…divide and rule.
Atheists are meant to be people quiet not vociferous in their knowledge but at the same time firm in their conviction of the truth. Atheists are meant to be people restrained not overboard about proving that they are right but at the same time holding on unwaveringly to the fact that they are right…and wait for the change in tide of things.
Atheism is an extreme philosophy, it does not stand for half measures…either you are an atheist or you are not…if you are not then why pretend?

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Rain Messenger's Diary 3...The Singular in the Plural

Inspiration, they say, is a spark, a sudden unwarned entity that comes on you stealthily and claims its prey when you least expect it, which is totally unfair in itself, as I feel proper warning should precede such an inspiring bout. Creativity is equally uncooperative, even though it is said to be at its sublime best when you are close to nature reverent in its majestic power, it rarely comes at the moment when you want it to fill you. Both, however share a deep bond, its useless to have just one of them (maybe you can still work with neither as I have seen and heard many do) I, inevitably, find it beyond me to catch the both of them in what most heroes in thrillers could do in “one elegant fluid motion” . I am left “slipping and sliding” and looking for uncertain footholds in trying to express what I see or maybe, what I don’t see and rather would have seen.

I am writing this sitting on a lonely beach at night. It’s new moon’s night. I looked into the infinite darkness over the sea. It seemed there was nothing beyond except a huge void waiting to draw me in…of which I knew nothing. The absolute blackness was jarring…it seemed obscene, the perfection of the black envelope almost intruded on my senses it was almost as if it was a personal insult. It reminded me of the incorrigible sea of ‘humanity’…teeming millions yet unworthy of notice…unforgivable in its mediocrity…its forgettable convictions and its sickening desire to do with whatever is given to them as leftovers of someone’s charity.

Contrary, to what you maybe thinking now I am not bitter towards them neither do I feel pity…its just an observation of a statement like the sun rises in the east (forgive the cliché…somehow all of us come up with this only one example when talking of absolute truths in this relative world)…and in the irrevocable truth of the statement I also find a resigned acceptance of fate. I do not feel or dream to be the avenging crusader who will change the order of things. I merely, observe and sadly, comply with the mass trying to be “as honest as you can make of a dishonest thing”…as in spite of it all we are nothing else but an assimilation of masks and unabashed liars---human liabilities.

Call it weakness or cowardice but somehow I do not think the Howard Roarks (or maybe you cannot refer to them in the plural they are unique in their singularity) are real in today’s world. Is it really possible to hold on to one’s belief…one’s idea of ‘right’ in this world? In this world where truth is merely what the majority believes…Is it possible to hold out against all the scavengers of the hypocritical civilization with just one’s perception of the ultimate beauty as the sole weapon?

The strength comes from the acceptance of numbers and no matter how indifferent we are to their ignorance …it pulls us down. It is something like what we learnt in Physics called ‘group velocity’…you may have a very high velocity of your own but you are still moving at the group velocity.

However, this does not mean I believe in bending over or changing myself according to the whims of the mass, which sadly is more unstable than the Indian Bureaucratic system. It is just that I feel in order to make a small difference in the system you have to be part of the system. If you are out of it, then you are just an insignificant nonsense caught between the infinite void of the universe and the infinite void of the mass’ mind. We have to be singular in the plural.

It is surprising how people change in groups, how one’s perception of beauty with what other so-called experts say is beautiful. No one will ever say he disliked a piece by Rembrandt, because then people would question his sense and brand him naïve and hence, we blindly comply, we fall in, and march on to oblivion.

As long as it is complicated enough, or seemingly complicated enough to appear incomprehensible respect comes naturally to us, it is like the truant who respects all his textbooks but never touches them. How is it that one sees or recognizes perfection? It is again not advisable to talk of perfection in a world that believes in “self”-lessness…that believes in the greatest lie ever formulated---“working for the greater good” and “work without expecting results.

We are all egotists or rather we should really want to be egotists, to take pride in what we do and not crib and go crawling on our knees for approval, looking for redemption begging for pardon as for the sacrilege we have committed for doing something just because that defines us, makes us stand apart…ugly yet beautiful in its blatant refusal to be the textbook hero and ride into the sunset.

The greatest egotist is maybe Nature. Its insolent indifference to all the adulation and appreciation heaped on it by mankind and yet its absolute ignorance of the apparent insolence that it exhibits towards humanity, makes it so loveable to all of us and yet its distant beauty is never touched, seldom understood and rarely remembered but the Nature goes on. Its motive itself and herein lies its success. We are all lonely but how many find it in us to be indifferent to it?

The Sea Inside


I tried to learn from the sea
The ease with which
It finds harmony
In the ceaseless symphony of chaos

Driven by the unsatisfied hunger
The undefined urge to achieve
I sought its energy
To withhold the pressure within

The bittersweet nostalgia
Of meeting an old friend
Remembered in the crashing of waves
And the whiff of salty air

Stinging my eyes
Bringing unwanted tears
Yet it’s great to be back
To find that someone’s always there…