From Ring-a-Ring-a roses to Rumi

When I was a kid, rain evoked only one emotion. 
Happiness.
A waterfall outside the window. A temporary lake around the house. The possibility of a new raincoat. The freedom of wearing slippers instead of shoes to school. The frequent power shortage and holidays. 

The weekend that passed also happened to be a rainy one. Today morning, I took stock of the emotions I had experienced.
Sadness. Love. Pain. Breakdown. Hope.
A lonely, wet road. A fallen tree entangled in the wires of a transformer. The dry clothes on a terrace getting beaten up by rain repeatedly. The continuous line of water drops illuminated by a flickering lamppost. A group of street dogs cuddled up close to one another.

The more agonizing realization was that the rain had not changed a bit. All the change had been internal. 

A dawn dilemma..

Waking up to embrace nature in its true undisturbed form is a blessing.
For some reason, many of my friends take pride in stating that they have been a witness to just a handful of sunrises in their lifetime. Oversleeping seems to be a honorary badge they are proud of wearing.
I feel compelled, at times, to explain the beauty of a newly born morning to them. 
But waking up before the sun comes out, walking a few miles to find a landscape untampered by cement and gravel and losing oneself to the human-less silence is a bliss better left to be described by Wordsworth and Walden.

In the midst of such experiences, there always exists an inner conflict - Should I capture the moment or just be in it?!

The soul wants to just be. 

The ego wants to create an evidence. 

There are days when the soul wins and there are days when the winner is the ego.

I try hard to control the outcome.

But the alternating victories seem necessary.

The artist needs the human and the human needs the artist.

Beauty!

If only beauty could be sucked..
The beauty of the moss covered walls of an ancient building
The beauty of the cement-filled smile of a construction worker's child
The beauty of the hungry crow scanning through one eye
The beauty of the rain drop wriggling down a rested umbrella
The beauty of the worn out end of the security guard's wooden stick
The beauty of the elastic hair band and the entwined few hair strands
The beauty of the blurred bathroom mirror after a steam bath
The beauty of the circular wood shavings from a flower designed pencil
The beauty of the pot-hole pimples in an empty road
The beauty of the sentences uttered in a crowded elevator
If only beauty could be sucked..

Purpose!

As I stepped on the terrace of our apartment, I checked the time on my mobile phone screen. 5:40 AM. The sky was a mixture of orange, grey and white. I breathed in selfishly a large whiff of the morning air and began walking around the terrace. It had been more than a week since I had seen the sun rise from its slumber.

As I looked around trying to observe the morning life in the nearby apartments, my eyes caught the sight of a dove seated on a dish antenna, a few apartments away. It seemed to be in a meditative state. The sky behind it looked like a painting lavishly splashed upon with a can of orange. The patches of grey amidst the orange splash seemed to increase its beauty. A momentary smile appeared on my face before it disappeared. I repented having forgotten to bring along the camera and rushed below to my home to fetch it. One storey down from the terrace, I realized that I could have captured the piece of beauty with my mobile phone. I stood there, baffled as to proceed upwards or downwards. I do not know what made me proceed downwards but a few minutes later, I came back panting on the terrace with my camera only to find the dove flown away and the painting spoiled by blotches of white.

I relaxed for a couple of minutes. Then I began clicking random shots of the sky. I then paused and started searching around for specific images of beauty. A group of pigeons had gathered over the water-tank of a nearby apartment. As I tried to frame the shot, another image caught my eye. A saree clad lady, a reddish towel bundling the hair behind her head, was spreading wet clothes over a clothesline. From my position, the image seemed a potential for a beautiful silhouette photograph. I directed my camera towards her. I immediately lowered it down as I thought about the possible risk of my intention being misunderstood. I decided to let the image go.

A flock of birds hurriedly made their way over my head. I quickly raised my camera and captured an image. As I looked at the picture on the camera screen, I realized that a black-and-white picture of the same would create a more solemn atmosphere. I changed the mode and waited for another flock. The wait was not long. I followed the flock with my camera, clicking continuously as an airplane made its way into one of the images. Delight filled me as I looked at the image.

I kept roaming around the terrace, the camera leading my way for some more time. But then as I came to the spot from where I had first seen the meditating dove, I could see that the orange shade had nearly disappeared. Blue had begun to dominate. I lowered my camera and looked at the sky.

The camera had made me forget the real purpose of my visit to the terrace.  I placed the camera on the terrace wall and seated myself some distance away from it. My focus did not shift from the sky for some time as the shades of the sky slowly changed and the birds flew above in all the directions, not a care in the world.

As I began making my way to my home sometime later, a question suddenly popped in my head.

Was art making me forget the purpose of life?

A mildly terrifying feeling overcame me. I tried not to think about it and entered my home. My mom who was cooking called out to me. I entered the kitchen and she asked me excitedly to show the images I had captured. I handed her the camera and walked away. A couple of minutes later, she came to me and returned the camera saying that she would try to accompany me the next day to the terrace. She added that it had been a while since she had taken time to notice the beauty of sunrise. 

I smiled hearing her statement.

She had unintentionally cleared the frightening doubt that had overtaken me. 

I slowly placed my camera inside its cover and went ahead with the day’s duties that waited, having had a happy revelation.

Art can only make a person understand the purpose of life better. Never the opposite.

Musing on the sun

Every nature photographer has his/her own natural 'muse'. 
The sea. The sky. The leaves. The hills.
But irrespective of their likings and interests, every photographer would cherish one natural entity in particular.

The sun.

How could one not?

Imagine a leisurely walk on a road. The sun is about to set. As you walk on the path ahead ignoring the sunset, a tree captures your attention. A tree not burdened by foliage. The leaves that are so sparse appear to be waiting for their freedom. And as you slowly walk around the tree, standing at a spot that enables a direct face-off with the sun, you get to witness something poignant. 

Something that makes you happily sad.

Like when you find your puppy seated silently near the doorway with a sorry face after having erased the rangoli drawn ten minutes earlier.

Like when you find your kid brother's sketches of Pokemon characters on your school laboratory record note the day before the practical examination.

Like when you find a fallen flower filled with light life.

The hopeless romantic

As I saw them fallen
Brew an anger inside uncontrollable
A sight, not the first time, to my eyes
But the blood boiled nevertheless
'How vile an act!' my mind screamed
I kept staring at the culprit
My heart filled with despise
Despise for a being so rid of love
And I determined to question him
Question how he could be so loveless..

Looking above at his face, I screamed
"Do you not know love? Is your heart so wooden?"
There came not a reply
"Speak out, you big fellow!
Do you not feel an iota of attachment?"
There prevailed silence
"Why hold back now? Not the first time, is it?
Every year happens this cold act. And you seem not a bit affected."
The leaves rustled a bit now
"See how close they stay to you. 
And what in turn do they get? Separation under the veil of autumn!"
A branch squeaked somewhere
"And now these poor ones?" my hand pointed to the fallen flowers
"Were you burdened by their beauty?
Did you sell them out to the wind and the rain?"
The burning anger in me was expressing itself
Every single word, its play
But not came even an alphabet in reply from the big fellow
And I scorned at him
This was after all, a routine to him
A big old wooden tree that he was
Why then would he care?
And I walked a few steps ahead..

But I stopped and looked up at him again
I needed not a reply from the cruel fellow
But I wanted justice and I walked towards him
Looking above, I raised my leg
Pulling it backwards, I directed all the energy to my feet
And landed a blow on his wooden heart
A blow so solid and strong
Oil would have sprung out had it landed on earth
But on this guy, it had no effect
Or so thought I for a moment
Before happened something unexpected
A reply for all my questions he gave
Not in words, but by that act -
A shower of tears poured down
A shower he had been holding back for long
A shower he had been holding back in his leaves
A shower he was so relieved to have poured out
Intermittent were the tears for a minute
And as they slowly stopped
My feet took a few steps back..

Drenched in his tears, I looked at him..
The blow I had landed had shook him
But his response had shook me, my perspective now altered
And as I looked at him now, I understood
Why he had been silent
Why his heart had become wooden..
I thought for a moment the pain he would face every year
Letting go of the ones he had so long cherished
Be it for the season or be it for the wind
And having to start over all anew
Year after year after year after year
And I closed my eyes
A silent prayer that never should one be faced with such a love affair..
I apologised to him, a terrible blunder on my part
And slowly walked away
Only to turn after some distance
And see the poor guy silently standing there
Rooted by the grave of his loved ones!

ENTROPY/CHAOS

(Order - Act I)

The child/WIND

Sitting down on the floor

Fresh and filled with energy, as the clock struck six,

Not a trace of exhaustion from the tedious school hours visible

The 7 year old poured out the contents -

Building blocks they were, from the pouch..

Slowly segregating the smaller and the larger pieces

She started joining them..

As the pieces attached themselves

Suddenly her mind wavered

Like a wind wandering undecided

And she removed the attached pieces

Only to join them differently

Stacking them one above the other in an order 

Slowly building her own home!

The woman/WATER

As she finished folding the dresses

That had till then been tortured by the sun's heat

She entered the kitchen

Her mind calculating the hours left for the day

And the tasks to be completed..

Being a skilled one at household chores

Taught by 8 years of marriage

Her thoughts seemed clear

Clearer than the undisturbed lake..

Happy with herself, she opened the tap

And scrubbing the utensils one by one 

She started washing them, delighted 

Her plans were getting executed one by one as usual!

The ant/EARTH

Having finished feasting on the cockroach

That was dead and turned upright

The colony started making its way

Toward the ant-hill that lay at the corner of the garden..

Marching slowly forward

One behind the other

Like a well-organized republic day parade

Little doubt in why they were called super-organisms

Having learned to share their labors among themselves

The most planned of all species, the ants..

9 in number they were

And they covered every inch, not fumbling but solid and stable

As solid as the ground below them

To keep marching towards the ant-hill

In a straight line, completely ordered!

The man/FIRE

Getting down from the bus

He walked slowly towards his home

His lunch-bag in one hand, umbrella in the other

And the executive-bag on his shoulder..

A few meters away, hiding behind an abandoned old van

Stood the villain, holding a knife in his hand

The face of his victim flashing again on his mind

Having seen the man walking on the road, gotten down from the bus

The hatred in his heart started burning

Like the fire that was set to the garbage heap at a corner

Which was the only source that lit up the street..

He had been waiting for this, 10 long months

Since he had been sent to prison

By that very same man walking towards him

Not accepting a bribe offered by this villain

And showing the law his good side

Making the villain bad and his family detested..

And now was his chance

In that empty street, lit only by a single flame

And as he saw the man at a few feet's distance

He jumped out of his hiding place

And held out the knife towards the man

Waiting to execute his well laid out plan!

(Order - Act II)

God/SKY

Waving his hand, God cleared the sky

That was being filled with large black rain clouds

Looking below at the world, he smirked

Fully filled with buildings

It seemed to have adopted its own design and order

Unlike the one that God had designed..

'What have they done?' he asked his attendant

'Probably the result of your own statement' the attendant replied

And God looked at him, his eyebrows raised

"I am God almighty. Be fruitful and multiply.

A nation and a company of nations shall come of thee." the attendant quoted

Verse number 11 from Genesis of the Bible..

The number 11 caught God's attention and he laughed

'They have created a lot of fables with this one - 11' he said

And the attendant agreed

'In 11, the 1 stands for the greater force, the Lord,

And the sum, 2, suggests the duality or the balance quotient of the Lord

- This is how Hinduism signifies it' the attendant completed..

The God remained silent 

Anger building up within him

Like the clouds that were building up ready to burst

'How dare they set me a balance quotient?

These humans set themselves order and balance

And they now are trying to include me in this petty game of theirs.

I will show them what imbalance and chaos and disorder is!'

He said and stared angrily at the world below him!

(Disorder - an act within the 'Order' act II)

Life/ENTROPY

The child placed the last block at the top

The woman washed her last plate, waiting to add it to the shelf

The ants were nearing the ant-hill, their line undisturbed

The man stood shocked at the sight before him

The villain was readying his mind to plunge the knife

God was waiting to unleash his anger upon the ordered world

And in a second it all happened!

(Disorder - Act I)

A very strong wind blew its way through the window

And the 'building-block' home came falling down..

Tears flowing out of her little eyes at the fallen home

The girl rushed towards her mom at the kitchen

Screaming and crying, surprising her mom

Who having washed the last plate, rotated the tap to close it

During which it broke out loose, water spraying and splashing all around..

Shocked, the mom tried filling the hole with her hand

During which the water sprayed in an inclined angle

Falling out the window, over the colony of ants..

The line shattered as the huge droplets started falling like atomic bombs

And the ants scattered all around, a few rushing toward the ant-hill..

As the fastest ant reached the ant-hill, the ground started shaking

And the mom in the kitchen, trying to stop the water flowing

While consoling her crying daughter, realized it too..

She grabbed her daughter and leaving the kitchen, 

She hurried towards the door

As she crossed the hall, she saw their family photo-frame fallen down

And as she glanced at it for a moment while hurrying out,

She wondered where her husband was..

(Disorder - Act II)

The man, as he stared at the knife held before him

Felt the ground trembling beneath his feet..

As he looked below, the villain standing before him also bent

And in that fraction, the man pounced on the villain

Hitting him with the umbrella

Unexpected by the villain, making the knife slip from his hand..

The villain hit him back and as the man fell back

The villain bent down to pick the knife which kicked by the man

Went flying far from his reach..

As the villain rushed forward, landed a blow on his face

The umbrella being the culprit

And the man jumped to the ground

Which was still shaking, to pick the knife..

And as he grabbed it, the villain had stood up again

Seeing the knife in the man's hand

He was hesitant for a moment..

They stood looking at each other

The villain now weaponless and the man holding the knife

When the fire that was burning went off.. 

Knowing this was his chance, the villain jumped at him

Only to feel steel piercing his skin

And as the pain hit his brain, he let out a scream

A scream that seemed a mere whisper

Before the thunder that roared that moment..

As the villain slowly fell down, the man 

Shocked at what he had done, looked around

Darkness was what he saw, not a single human

And pulling out the knife, the man started running towards his home

His mind, blank, and his feet trembling along with the ground..

(Disorder - Act III)

From the end of the street, he had seen the collapsed buildings

A result of the quake that had shaken the ground

Increasing in its magnitude with every step he had run towards his home..

And as he reached his home

A heavy downpour had started..

The rain slapped over his face, flowing down with his tears

As he saw his home that had collapsed

But it was not the pile of fallen bricks he cared about..

He pushed open the gate

And entered in when struck a lightning

Showing him the two things he loved the most in the world

Standing in his garden, the daughter and the mother holding hands

And he let out a scream of relief..

Hearing which, the women rushed towards him 

And he hugged them like he had never before

And there, before the collapsed home, stood united a family..

(Order - Act III)

A week later, as the family woke up 

From a small tent in the refugee camp 

The speakers at the camp blared

'Our world has faced one of its worst disasters in the human history.

It is going to take us very long to return to our normal lives.

But never lose hope. We, the surviving leaders of all the nations have

Come together and have devised a well thought-out plan.

Let this be the beginning of a more united world.' the voice ended

And the family held each other closely, their hope rekindled..

'A plan again? Don't the humans ever realize their mistakes?

When would they possibly understand

That order and balance are mere illusions?'

God wondered out loud to his attendant..

'They would never.' the attendant replied

God remained silent..

'They would never because they are humans'

The attendant emphasized this time

And God looked at him confused

'Then, how is it that they overcome every obstacle

Only to appear stronger than before every time?'

He asked out loud..

And the attendant smiled

He knew the answer but he knew that it might anger God

And so letting God ponder over it in length

The attendant kept the answer to himself.

Love!

The rainy aftermath

Puddles of water all around, water droplets all over the leaves, birds so beautifully ruffling their feathers to dry their bodies, the scent of the mud so strong that it would break our civilized lives to pieces - a walk in the morning after a rainy night is one of the best encounters a man could have with nature.

Nothing ever symbolizes the human mind more lucidly than the ripples that keep forming and deforming in a puddle with every droplet that falls from the leaves of the tree above it. 

No wonder that the 'rain' and its aftermath is one of the most favorite subjects of most writers or any creative person for that matter.

Romancing in the rain

I looked at the sky. Dark clouds loomed large threatening a heavy downpour. And I slowly lowered my head and looked at her. She had never seemed more beautiful.

I knew I had to do it but the anticipation before the ultimate moment always excited me and I kept looking at her, my heart filled with joy.

Then I brought my head closer. A whiff of hot air brushed my face and I firmed my hold on her. As I slowly bent further, our lips met.

I closed my eyes. The sound of the breeze blowing and the rain drops dripping from the branches of the tree above seemed to have no effect upon me. I was in heaven. I let go of all my inhibitions and let myself be taken over by the beauty of the moment.

The warmth I felt, both in my heart and in my mouth, made me forget all the worries that had set up a tent in my head. And I slowly brought my lips apart and moved back, letting her go. As I loosened my earlier firmed grip, I could feel her warmth in my hands. And I looked at her, mesmerised by her perfect blend of sweetness and hotness.

Darn! How lovely she was in the rain!

I brought her closer again and we had our second kiss. A longer one, this time. And as I slowly moved my head back after the kiss, I was shocked. She was no more.

How could she leave me so soon? How could she, after the beautiful romance we had shared?

I felt my heart getting heavy. But I decided that I was not going to let her go so easily. I put my hand inside my pocket and as soon as I felt the touch of metal, I rushed to the shop ahead and shouted,

“One more coffee, please!”