An Encounter between Past and Present

“Look at the smoke”, said I and kept saying it until I could say it no more. No one looked at me as I stumbled on my way to the restroom. My friends were too lost in the music to notice me leave and I was too drunk to make’em notice me leave.

Fortunately the lights weren’t too bright when I entered the restroom; saved me from the sudden pinch I usually feel in my head. The room looked empty to me as I sat on the floor, right in front of the big mirrors on the wall. I felt an urge to puke and thought I was gonna pass out until, surprisingly, this little girl of about 10 years old ran before me into this dark corner of the room. Curious, I followed her into the corner where she tried to reach the sink and wash her hands covered with mud.

Appalled by the possibility of how they could let a little girl enter a night club, I convinced myself that I was hallucinating. So I went back to the lightened part of the room and sitting on the floor once again, anxiety filled me up; I realized I was sweating and wanting so desperately to scream, I couldn’t open my mouth. Maybe I was asleep and all this was a dream, but why would I need this to be a dream? What was so bad about this situation? No, there was no sunshine, no birds singing but only darkness, and this darkness seemed so usual and familiar that it didn’t scare me. There was nothing negative about it.

Perhaps it was the possibility of the unusual presence of the little girl that bothered me. Hoping my initial doubts of hallucinating to be confirmed, I went to the same dark corner once again only to see her standing frozen like a rock, shivering, wanting so desperately to scream but I guess she couldn’t open her mouth, while a strange dirty huge man did whatever he wanted to do with her, using her however it suited his evil purpose.

Not being able to believe what I saw, I puked, ran out of that cursed place and dropped myself on the floor in front of the mirrors looking at myself in one of’em. I couldn’t even tolerate the stare of my own reflection at myself, nevertheless I kept staring back at it until I finally saw her, the poor little girl replace my reflection, and that is when I recognized her in myself.

It all comes down to Sacrificing

1 My insides were empty before the sacrifice.

They swell with honor and a sense of spiritual fullness now that I’ve given a person what he really needed. The sincerity of his need and my empathy of it provided me the strength to sacrifice mine.  And it did me no harm, it only made me stronger to move forward, which would have been very difficult otherwise.

2 To give up is not always cowardice, it is something I can’t figure out yet but it’s definitely not cowardice. After all, what are you supposed to do if you are forced into doing something out of necessity? And you believe them when they say it is for your own good, and when you know that even if it does turn out as good as they said, it will only be superficial.

I write my name on the shore, the sea wave comes and washes it away. I write my name on the shore again, the sea wave washes it away again. I try to emphasize myself but they won’t let me, just like the sea. Obtaining delight out of vexing people like me is their hobby but I’m not vexed.

I know you are not like them, my dear, and that’s why I’m speaking this out to you. But I can’t go on like this, so I give up and it’s not out of cowardice. Perhaps it is a sacrifice; perhaps he needs it more than I need my life. So I’m giving up not for him but to save myself, I can only hope he finds solace in that.

3 I can see the truth so I will paint you in my words. I’m sure no one has had the chance to see your sacrifice but me and that you’ve served your purpose for someone else, but now that I’ve seen the divine truth in you, I’ll serve my purpose for you. I’m not giving up anything writing you down in my words, I’m only making you eternal as you continue to make me grow.

You, the one who sacrificed to move on, and you, the one who sacrificed to benefit someone else, you will live on forever in Art, Art which is mine and which I’m expecting not everyone will be able to understand this time.

Anne Frank

Looking at the seagulls flying in freedom in the vast azure, she says, "in spite of everything, i still believe that people are really good at heart". She puts me to shame too, just like she puts her father to shame. Shame of believing in a religion of faith that couldn't prove as trustworthy as she thought of it; that a brave little girl, inspired by nature, whose heart was a dwelling of Wordsworth, was forced to end her life only because she was a Jew. What a shame!

Little Anne discovered the beauty of words, writing her expressions out in her Diary or Kitty as she called it. She could have been a greater writer if she were given a chance to live. Nevertheless she made her mark in literature with her single writing that she never intended to get published. She won in her defeat. Nazis ended her life in the name of religion but they couldn't defeat her. 

So what if she was never able to go out for ever since the Franks got into hiding, she had her imagination to take her out to the same park where she would walk around the bright flowers on the side of the lake with her Father, whom she loved inevitably. She and the others had to put on the same clothes for those unfortunate three years in the hiding without washing them, they had to keep the lights out almost all of the time, they could not walk around in shoes for the fear someone on the floor below might suspect their presence, they had to sleep with the continuous music of the alarm sirens and air raids outside. Those eight people lived in a suffocating small floor and sustained themselves by dividing their daily food equally among themselves, food which was meant enough for only three people at a time. In spite of all this, little Anne considered her present abode to be a heaven, greatly better than what the other Jews were made to live in, outside in the concentration camps during the World War II.

How ironic and yet magnificent it was to look out of the window and find peace in other's freedom while she herself lived inside this room for the last three years. How courageous was it of her to be cheerful when everyone else was afflicted with the inevitable angst that didn't leave their hearts at all, and to be hopeful while looking at the door of the hiding place, waiting for it to be trampled down upon by the Nazis who were coming to get her and her family to the concentration camps.

It will be too obvious to suggest the wrongness of the Nazis who inflicted the worst of tortures upon the Jews for no logical reason. All that we can do right now is pray silently for a moment for the peace of all those people who were a victim of Hitler's misguided pride and mind. They were not victims, they were martyrs, and greater were the common German friends who had enough courage to hide and help their fellow Jews.

A little Love

As the hostel bell rang early in the morning, I woke up and hurried for my Art class. While on my way to the Campus, I found a little puppy sitting and whimpering on the footpath on the outskirts of a garden. Fighting my urge to take him with myself back to the hostel, I tried walking on but couldn’t. I gave him my lunch which he, to my surprise, devoured quickly and I resolved to take him into my lodgings. Too occupied as I was to notice that he had a leash on and could be someone’s pet, we walked on like childhood buddies with the same stance. His little white furred body trotted beside me to catch up with my pace and made him look so little a treasure that I felt impulsively protective of him.

I hid him in my bag as I entered the gates of my hostel since animals were not allowed inside the rooms. Tired as I was from this long walk, I lay on my bed and could see his head jump up a second after another accompanied by a singing bark from his throat as he tried to jump up on the bed beside me but couldn’t because of his small size.

I did not realize that I’d fallen asleep until there was a knock on the door which woke me up and I noticed the little pup streak across the floor, tossing up the rugs as he slid, and not stopping until he crashed into the door with a loud thud. He then hopped up on his hind legs, yelping wildly. This is when I realized that this little creature was not a delicate angel but a vigorous, slightly crazed devil that was yet somehow joyous in its eyes. I knew that calming him down would be of no use and I opened the door with a slight queasiness to see a hostel member asking me to take the dog out.

I did not know what to do with him but surely I did not and would not let him be on his own all alone and not looked after. Nevertheless, I decided to take him to the same place where I’d found him in the hope that his owner might come around finding him. When we reached the place, I sat on a bench in the garden adjacent to the place and tried to keep the little urchin entertained and wagged a stick in front of his face. He stared at it as a starving man would stare at a loaf of bread. “Go get it!” I shouted, and hurled the stick as far out in the garden as I could. He jumped up the low concrete barrier in one spectacular leap and galloped down the steep in the garden out into a grove of plants. He came charging back up onto the bench with his prize in his teeth. “Bring it here!” I yelled, slapping my hands together. He pranced over, his whole body wagging with excitement, and promptly shook the leaves and mud all over me! And I thought to myself, this is what overexcited energized bunch of animals were born to do.

The little devil

It was like I was living with a wild horse and was assured that this little creature can teach me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He could teach me to appreciate the simple things- a walk in the garden, a fresh energetic evening and to miss classes for an enjoyable nap.

I wondered if it was possible for a dog- any dog, but especially a nutty, wildly uncontrollable one like him- to point humans to the things that really mattered in life; and looking at him I believed it was!

And this is the reason why I did not name him because then it would have hurt me more to let him go than it would hurt me now when I’d not named him. Be it whatsoever, I found it amazing and unbelievable that how attached I grew to him in matter of just a few hours. However, interrupting my sad brooding, I heard the little devil’s bark that filled my heart with all the love for him and I continued playing our game with him, not knowing and caring of the future.

God Came To Me

I want to escape to the place I remember…melt away in the sunshine that fell on my shoulders when I visited those peaceful Churches. The sunshine that made the green trees look golden overwhelmed my heart with joy.

Some are lucky, like me, who have the tendency to express exactly what they feel, so much so it gives you tears of joy. I feel fortunate for I have such memorable and positively frightening memories that I consider worthy to write about.

I will never forget the day when I had that little pink dress on with the white beads resting upon my neck. The Christ chain that I bought and which destiny had to take away from me will never be forgotten. More of a pilgrimage it seemed to me, with Anya, as she accompanied my soul to this sacred place in Goa where the remnants of St Francis’ human body still remain. The rush is over but the memory will live on forever.

As we walked on our way to the car in which we had arrived to visit the blessed Church, came across the same old man who had helped us with the directions to the famous Baga Beach a day before. He was dressed in the same white clothes and with the same contented look on his gentle face, he smiled at us from a distance. He looked like someone I knew very well in my sub-conscious mind, but I did not have enough time and interest to make an effort so as to figure out completely the face and identity of the person I, now, could vaguely recall.

Pretending to be ignorant of the man, Anya and I moved nearer to the car until we noticed a small earthen shop that sold only ethnic miniatures of Jesus Christ. Something compelled us to enter the shop and as we entered, we couldn’t help but lose ourselves in the magnificent paintings that pictured the Virgin Mary and Christ in their benevolent manners. As I decided upon to buy the Pietà, (a sculpture that depicts the Virgin Mary cradling the dead body of Jesus), disappointed, I realized that I’d left my wallet back in the Church while I sat on the wooden pews and prayed. Helplessly, I confirmed the shopkeeper of my return to buy the statue after I’ve visited the church again.

As we entered the Church gates again this time, we made sure to light the candles and began to search for my wallet until we found it right where I had left it. After expressing our reverence to the Gods, we took the same road backwards and had almost reached our car when in the middle of the road, long after searching for the same earthen shop for more than an hour, we could not find it anywhere. We did all that we could, from asking every person in the vicinity to every neighborhood that stood adjacent the road, but to our surprise EVERYONE denied the existence of any such shop on that road. The futility and the perplexity of the situation forced us to return to our car, and furthermore to the Hotel where we rested for a few hours.

After having dinner, I went outside to take a walk when Anya called out from the balcony of the room, “Don’t go too far! It is too dark. I’ll be down with you in a minute.”

It was not too dark as she’d mentioned, rather it was too peaceful and calm as the moon bestowed its shining light on the face of earth. And as I walked on, I caught the figure of the same old man walking towards me! Instantly, I knew in my mind that this was supposed to be unusual and that I must return to my lodgings ASAP. I should’ve been scared but something comforted and encouraged me to wait for the man walking to me. I could see the same contented smile on his face as he stopped right in front of me. The bright shining stars and the moonlight made his garb and beard appear even more unusually bright.

I could not speak and I did not want to speak. My mind was too indulged in his voice and the warmth that I felt as he, suddenly, spoke to me, “I am sorry for thee, dear child, for thou hast lost thy Christ ornament, and to compensate with thy loss, I giveth thee thus.” Speaking in an ancient English dialect as thus, he placed the Pietà in my hands which I had greatly wanted to procure from the shop I could never find.

I was dumbstruck, a multitude of emotions filled up my countenance, yet I could not speak and I did not want to speak still. My stare at him turned into a look of gratitude and worship as he blessed me saying, “God bless thee, my child.”, and went away until his figure vanished in the dark.

I stood frozen until Anya came and broke my trance and I chose not to tell her anything regarding this incident as it appeared too intimate and personal to me.

My Transient Muse

The Innocent one with those curious eyes

Been a long time since I've been inspired.

The Artist

Suddenly I feel drugged by a piece of Art I would not name. The backdrop is all about attachment, it ends and begins with voices, views, visions and directions; and is initialized by a young Muslim woman, beautiful both spiritually and physically, who is married..and the Artist can see that she's not happy. Yet on the surface, as she tries to feign her happiness, he believes her pretense of happiness just for the sake of believing HER. And the outcome is nothing but pain, and a lot of money that the Artist doesn't care about.

The poor helpless boy

Another backdrop is about the helpless young boy who knows his brother is murdered, when everyone is fooled into believing he died accidentally, yet he can't do anything about it. The story is of the sacrifice he HAS to make because he has no other option. He has a cat, an old mother and a little sibling to look after. The hardships of having to earn enough food by working the whole day and to  live under a home that has exactly on room, he understands the pain of another and makes his sacrifice so that the 'other' doesn't have to make the same sacrifice on her part, merely cause he cares for her and she doesn't even know about it.

The ordinary 'other' girl

Another backdrop is of the ignorant 'other' girl who is learning, and is growing to finally reach the same place as that of the 'helpless boy', and is in love with the Artist, but is yet to reach the level of the artist. She is on the right track and is a NICE person. She is good, only good.
The first and the last backdrop is of the girl who is writing and is doubtful if she is doing justice to this piece of art. All she can express is that she could not FEEL and had not been INSPIRED since a very long time until she experienced this. She's just realized that it was better when she was little, when she could imagine easily. Now it's tough with all the growing up and maturity she's gained. But just wonder how influencing this Piece of Art could be that it moved her at last.
I cant get the pictured out of my mind..the painting of the bangles, the beautiful sparkling bangles, the beautiful innocence of the girl wearing Burqa and walking around in the Elephanta caves with those searching curious eyes, the suffering yet satisfied eyes of the helpless boy, so much pitiful so that it would make you love him; and the empathy with the painter's understanding, I understand why he is a loner and why does he, if at all, seem rude to others. I get it all.

My Words

I feel grey when I am numb
In my mind spirituality succumbs,
Spirituality which is dumb.
Where am I?
One tiny upright speck of flesh,
I whimper for you my love,
I whimper for your 'yes'.

Does this happen to you too?
When you know that it is for no reason,
When you know that it will only win you a treason,
And when you cant see any signs..yet you know,
That you're going lower..too slow.

I am startled when I realise
What you want in me is Christ.
There is no time and only space,
Who can say it was life you would not embrace?
And my soul can't leave you wherever you are
Because I know this happens to you too

When you know that it is for no reason,
When you know but you won't admit..love had you imprisoned,
And when all this time you ignored the signs..though you knew
that you loved me too..and you still do.

But I wont give in
My fists are shut, my mouth set fast.
I will not take that direction
to the darkness, into the holocaust.
I walk towards the glowing town
where you are..where you will be.
And I will make us last,
baby I will let 'us' go free..