June 10, 2010

I just came yesterday from a week long trip from Dehradun, my grandparents’ house. Though I dont have a great inkling to write a travelogue, I had really saturated and had no real inspiration to actually start this post. Simply put I have really been in a pretty gay mood and this I think is the most strangest thing that I have yet come to know about myself. Many a time, posts that I have written when I have been in a sad mood or have been upset. Right from the point where i actually started this blog, all posts have only one inspiration: sadness. That aspect might not come out as clearly but that fact is not hidden from me. Even now this post that I am writing has some inspiration: the coming DU cutoffs and the subsequent fight for DU seats

Rather than sadness I should correct it to say frustration, fear or just plainly some aspect or factor that I have not been able to put my finger on. The fact is that an unhappy moment is what has usually been the catalyst for all my posts. Not to say that I am a sad and forlorn personality per se. The thing is that when I dont have anything to write about, I usually search deep down and look for the most forlorn aspects that I have encountered in my life. To elaborate further, during examinations what I write in the English examination and the tone and the emotion and the underlying theme is governed by what I have encountered in the morning whilst I was coming to school. Usually I walk and that gives me ample amount of time to recollect the important aspects of the exam and also think about what had transpired the past few days. So if during my walk if I remember some joke, the subsequent tone and the emotion will be jovial and funny. If I see some sad happening like a beggar, then the theme would be sad and angry and aggressive. If I see some fault of the authorities or some other aspect for which I feel strongly then the theme would be sarcasm. So different moods warrant different themes and never is the converse true.

Infact, many posts I have not given any title. That is because its have been more of a conversation with myself. Even now this is a conversation with myself. This is just a transcript that the readers will be going through. Coming more to the point, the queer aspect of my writing. Today, I am not unduly sad, neither am I unduly frustrated and afraid. Even then there is no feeling of happiness just a feeling of well-being. Thats not a bad thing, you cant be happy all the time. But the question is why am I writing this?

After reading this draft again, there is an underlying feeling that comes out very clearly. I have clarity of thought yet I am confused. Confused is the aspect that has driven me to write this.The clarity is pretty evident as one line of thought follows another. Yet there is the feeling of confusion that I have still not countered.

Confusion. This is what many of my peers, whose judgement I regard highly as well as my teachers use to give me hints of but never state them explicitly. Many times I have heard them telling me that once you start writing there is no stopping me. But the line of thought has been ever clear to me. The only thing that has actually eluded me is the reason why I write so much even when there is no need. There is this habit of unduly stretching things and then talk about them, rather then coming to the point,. Maybe this whole exercise was conjured somewhere in my mind to answer this very notion. Yet I had no prior knowledge neither did I realise that by the end of it I would have come to such a conclusion.

AHA! When I wrote my first post it was about the power of the mind and the lengths that it took me and now I have come to it again. BUT, the fact is that I have again veered off from the original point. Again, I cant understand why> i do try to stop myself from veering away and writing endlessly. Perhaps I am like Forrest Forrest Gump who just keeps on running. In quite the same way, once I start talking there is no way to stop it.

Published in: on June 10, 2010 at 2:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

Individualism (contd)

I am trying to amalgamate two of my previous posts into one consistent theme. In my post titled May 22 2010(https://dhruvsharma.wordpress.com/2010/05/23/may-22-2010-2/), I had recounted on how I dont notice anything and other stuff.

Let us say that you are reading a book. What does the author want you to see? He wants you to see the environment and the setting. He tells you about the characters, their feelings and then he brings you to the conversation that is happening between the group of people.

Another folly of mine is that whenever I read a book, I concentrate on the conversation. That’s why most of the time I end up reading the book twice or thrice. That is what I am trying to imply. The beauty of individualism that is so inherent even in the smallest of my actions. The fact is that I believe any book, of fiction atleast, is written with the sole aim of narrating a story. In that story, there are characters and their experiences. The fact is that the most important aspect according to me is the piece of conversation that is going on between the two. Whatever other input that the person is trying to give is important but not as important as the piece of conversation .

In my mind, whenever I recreate a scene or produce something new, the person comes first, then comes what he is trying to do. Only when I have decided on all those variables will I ever go on with the story or the poem or any other thing. To me the centre of the human community is the individual. The individual actions, his decisions and his emotions are what determine his life and his way in the world. The individual should not base his decisions on what the society thinks. He should base it on the simple aspects of what his right and what is wrong by his own accord, his own conscience.

Though it might just contradict the community way of living that is so inherent in humans, but still the center of even the most connected (for lack of a better word) communities.  Every matter discussed,. decision taken and motive acted upon is governed by keeping the individual in mind or thats my way of looking at things.

Published in: on May 29, 2010 at 6:06 pm  Leave a Comment  

May 22 2010

My folly is that I don’t notice too much. Countless books have I read and to each of them I subscribe a certain level of imagery and vividness. The fact is that many a time the author in questions tell us about the setting and the environment. But whenever I write the main emphasis is on the people and the people alone. Never have I veered off to explain the setting nor have I ever pressed on to express the environment. In my visions and my dreams I only see the person whom I am thinking about. Never have I thought about the way he is standing or the way a particular person is walking. I have only seen the person or two persons. When the persons become too many my mind conjures up a setting. So in a way my visions have an inverse kind of property to them. Many writers will first think of the setting, then the temperature, then the wind speed and then they think about what the persons are talking about.

Yet this kind of imagery is not inherent to me and neither does it come naturally to me. Most of my writings and my thoughts come to me in the night and there is one constant factor, a sole factor that is the inspiration. Sometimes it comes and I imagine it to be something positive, the sole property that attracts me to it. In fact, it is always present in my writings in some form or another. I won’t veer off much.

See that’s my other folly. I veer off too much. It seems I have no control over my thoughts. Once the chain of thoughts is established then nothing stops me. It’s me and the pen or in this case the keyboard. But the fact remains that my train of thoughts don’t seem to have any inherent connection. Yet the motivation of the next chain of thought is quite tied to the previous one, though one may not be able to see any connection. That’s what I want my readers to do. I want them to work out the link between specific chain of thoughts.

This is another aspect of my persona. I want challenges and I love giving others challenges. Challenges are what I love most. And that’s what I want to give the reader. He should work out the meaning and the motivation of my work. I don’t care whether the person is right or wrong. That’s never a problem. Opinions have to be respected, though I may seldom subscribe to them. But the beauty of it all is that the person whose opinion is in question: how well is he able to defend it and how well he actually feels its true. The opinion should be true for him: that’s the most important aspect of any exchange.

All in all, I don’t know why or what the motivation behind what I wrote. I seldom do. But that’s what the amazement of it all is. The thoughts and the expressions, the emotions and the feelings that are so much a part of human thinking as they are of human existence should never be stifled. Whenever you take away a person’s right to think for himself, or the right to emote, you take away the most important right that nature provided to us: that of the right to be human.

After reading the above, one might that start to ascribe to the notion that this is a diary of sorts, a diary where I pen my thoughts. Well I differ. A diary, in my opinion(see opinions again) is where you pen and write down your day to day experiences. I haven’t done any of it. Suffice to say, my experiences aren’t quite dramatic. Sorry to disappoint. Yet this is a memoir of sorts. No  that’s not right. Well, how should I sum it up.  It’s a pensieve, but of a rather different kind. This is not some place where I put my memories. It’s a place where I put my thoughts, my emotions, my desires, my likes and dislikes etc. it’s a mirror of sorts. A sneak peek to what I think. In a way, I am surprising myself by writing all this down. Its all up here: in the mind. The most powerful and potent tool there is. It can fabricate, create, destroy, nullify, reconstruct, reproduce almost anything. But its not on demand. You have to know yourself before you train your mind. You need to know the most intimate truths about yourself. And this process will never be complete. Its an ongoing process; a process where you learn to know about yourself and more importantly learn “how” to know about yourself. The mind is YOU. Its your charcter, personality your desire; everything from your little toe to your pituitary gland, its all in the mind. Learn to control it and you learn to listen to yourself.

Sometimes I wonder how I might react to certain situations. My other big folly is that I react too late. In the case of a casual discourse or conversation, I might not be the swiftest. But then again certain predicaments do exist where my senses are highly acute and they respond almost instantaneously. It’s a reflex. When in a debating mood, I can rip you apart. But if it’s a friendly banter, I might even become the target of many a ridicule.

AH….. Mood. That very strange looking word and an even stranger state of mind. What one might call a moody person, I would call a person  who has very limited or no control over his mind. He doesn’t know when to actually react and how to react. In a way, again mood is something that you can control. The most masterful of people are really good at hiding their true moods, their true states of mind. They are the ones who have learnt to master their mind.

Another aspect that comes across as extremely fascinating is that fact that the mind does not care itself about why, when or where after some point of time. What it does teach is to answer the question how. Suppose you have to pick up a glass. The mind “knows” that you have to pick up the glass; it knows “where” the glass is (maybe on the table, on the ground perhaps or is it a mirage); it knows “why” you want it(maybe you are thirsty, or just plain curious). But the tool that has to do the job is the hand. Only the mind tells the hand “how” to do it. That is the fallacy of the mind. It cant answer “how”. It can only command the other parts to do “how”. And that’s why we need the mind to tell us “how”

Published in: on May 23, 2010 at 8:43 am  Comments (1)  

Why man cut the tree?

The tree was first a sapling in the beginning like we all are, a baby, helpless without protection.

There through the corner of its eye, it saw the baby; it heard the sound of his crying he thought. Why does the baby cry he asked?

Years go by. Both the tree and the baby grow together. After the initial curiosity of the sapling, he matured and became a tree. That’s what the boy’s mother and the boy called him. The boy had leaves, roots and eyes. The tree had arms and legs but were were his eyes?

He didn’t need any?Why? He heard. Yes he heard. He heard the birds, the ruffling of his own leaves .

As the years went by, the tree grew stronger and its arms grew longer, its legs became longer. But what of the boy. He grew old and weak. Why thought the tree?

Why?Why Indeed?

The baby walks out this time on three legs. With small steps on the earth, he makes his way to the tree. Its autumn for both of them

The baby has lost something. He is sad. The tree has lost many. Except one.

It too is in the autumn of its life. Its the last leaf on the tree. The baby looks up and sees it fall on the ground.  The tree looks at it falling, almost with desire. And then it falls.

The baby asks the tree “Aren’t you sad?” “No” replies the tree.

Its winter for both of them. The baby now slower than ever, walks over to the tree once again. Asks him, “I have nothing left. Love has left me. Life has left me.” “It has left us both”, replied the tree.

“Aren’t you sad?”


“But why not?”

“Because, they never leave me. They always come back”

Spring comes. Both the baby and the tree lie together on the earth.

That’s why man cut the tree.

Why you ask? That’s for you to decide

Published in: on May 22, 2010 at 2:12 pm  Leave a Comment  

Who I am ?

He was born as any other mortal. An infant who came crying into the world. The child learnt the tales and fables of yore, relished the sweet taste of food and before long, he started his long journey into the world. Before he began his journey, he had to go through another, different kind of journey, shorter but important all the same.

The first few years he flourished without incident. But then something happened; extraordinary.

No, No Wait. There were two of him. The real him and the other a wax replica. This event caused the wax model to take control of his life. The real him was lost somewhere. On an island, a mountain peak. Wherever, didn’t matter to the other.

But where was the real he?

There he is. On that island. With the beautiful sunshine. At the tree top, do you see him? You missed it. There he has built himself a den. A cove beneath the canopy.

As the wax model, grew in stature and displayed tremendous virtues. As he grew stronger, the real him didn’t venture out at all. He started living in the cove. Alone. No there was someone, a light. A beam of light. Looked like sunlight. But it was with him at night too. This was no ordinary light. He talked to it, and it talked back to him. It knew the wax model too. And it knew him. But a storm was brewing. Even the light didn’t know.

As he started to live more in the cove, fires raged outside. The wind howled and creeked. It scared him. But the light was there. He slept. And the fires raged ever more. Then came the waves crashing on the cove. Water, yet he was afraid of the fire. As the fire grew and the water bashed, the wax melted. He had to come out of the cove. Again fear of fire as the waves grew ever stronger.

Then the inevitable came. The waves eroded the stone. The cove was gone. And he had finally been thrown out. As he lay prostrate on the sand, he felt the heat of the light. It wasn’t fire. It was hot but warm. It was friendly. The light was there too. And as he stood up, the light grew ever stronger and then he looked up. He couldn’t. he ventured again. It was beautiful. Opened his slumber and as he looked down, a wave came and touched his feet. There was no fire. As he looked into the water. There he saw, why the waves were coming. He had finally seen himself. and he knew who he was, where he was, and more importantly, what he was.

Published in: on May 21, 2010 at 12:41 pm  Comments (1)