धुआँ

In Thy thoughts

The sea waves washed the shore,

They spoke of your arrival,

The water sprinkled awakening me,

From a deep slumber

Into a consciousness of my emotions,

Of my trembling heart,

And of my voice deep within

Your sapphire eyes looked deep into mine,

You called my eyes beautifull,

I looked deeply into yours,

Wishing to know your soul

I tried to hold your hand,

To see for myself the unknown universe 

Your breathe touched mine,

We flew around each other,

As if birds free from the shackles,

I found freedom,

Freedom to dream,

Dream once again of hope, wilderness and courage

Contemplations of the Night

While, it might seem to be a straight title and an obvious one, I am sitting at 1:00 AM in the night with my myriad thoughts, trying to jolt them and concretize.

I can fondly recall the nights of my hostel room in Ahmedabad, more than a year back. I used to sit for hours thinking, pondering over life, trying to see myself few years from then and of course that what I was currently. It used to be Saturday mostly (as it is today) when I would stretch deeper into the nights. A stare into the silence, distance sounds of insects and yet witnessing its liveliness and energy was revitaling, though enigmatic. Such ponderings did a great job to help reclaim myself, pull myself out of deep disdain and under-confidence. In those hours (which follows even today) I have been able to pour my heart out, speak to myself and weave poetry soothing to myself beyond the words and meter. 

Night have a sense of calm about themselves, conveying deep (sometimes deafening) silence, stillness and telling me about the redundancy of over-thinking. They have come to become perfect timings for all the thoughts to gather and summarize them all. I can recall Nehru talking about his contemplations about night in his remarkable The Discovery of India while he spent years in prison. He beautifully renders and compares the waxing and waning of the moon with life. A time therefore to do my own bit of philosophy about life. 

Such contemplations have silently told me to be okay with what it is and it will pass too. Nothing is bigger than my life. In times of distress they ask me questions whose answer are naturally within me. They vehemently ask me many questions, reminding me of times gone by. Weren't you the one to stand when no one did? Didn't you do away with your fear of speaking and singing before a crowd of hundreds? Didn't you stand for your own principles which you consider dear? And didn't you call yourself different from others? Won't you show a bit of courage again?

While I speak all this, I must not exonerate the night of its aloofness and loneliness. The dark side to it is quite associated with absence of light and flowing negativity. With its silence, stillness, there is a crude attached sense of being alone, stagnant and depression. Although its all a matter of perception. 

As I close this post, may be its not too late in the night yet. I am contemplating to plan a better tomorrow, no matter how down I may go today with all my self-doubts and questions.

There is something enigmatic about night, there is something enigmatic about life.

(A photo I clicked at Brahmaputra, near Guwahati; sun about to set and spell of night about to begin)

Prisoners of our own device

"And she said we are all just prisoners here, of our own device...", reads one of the lines of the most celebrated and cherished songs and reminds me of certain structures which we have created ourselves knowingly or inadvertently and now are trapped helplessly. "Didn't you check your WhatsApp? I had already posted about it on the class group last night" one of my friends said one fine day morning after I missed a lecture. Indeed certain things created to connect people have now ended up becoming the utmost necessities, so integral that its hard to dispense with them now.

"Will you WhatsApp me your class notes?" a close friend of mine asked me. The inherent nature of platforms like WhatsApp or Facebook is/ was to provide a platform to people to interact, falling within the domain of "social media", for exchanging pictures, videos, etc., for recreation, to preserve the moments, to get 'in touch' with the ones who otherwise are 'distant', and for other myriad reasons. Sometime back WhatsApp introduced a feature of exchanging documents and probably the traditional place, emails (if not since ages, then at least since last few decades) would soon be finding a little space for themselves.

The recent feature of video calling on Facebook and more recently WhatsApp has further enhanced the way we have communicated and an attempt has come to fore to substitute reality or if not substitute, then get closer to it and reduce distances. This feature to an extent seems to meet the criticism of the social media platforms for losing the personal touch. The video calling feature however does pull out the users out of their comfort zones of texting. Texting involves fabrication and manipulation of the situations to a great extent and at times the person on the other side has to rely on presumptions (so its easier for me to send a laughing smiley on being asked if I am alright but even when I am actually not!), and on other instances interpret things, and self-compensate for the absence of tone in the messages sent, sans audio or video calling.

No doubt these social media platforms today are the fastest means to disseminate information, but at the same time to to disseminate wrong information, for both Arab Spring and several communal riots across India have taken off from these platforms. At times the source of information is difficult to verify and a user who does verify different claims or does not 'interrogate' or 'investigate' is likely to fall in trap and the consequences ensue.

However, indeed we are addicted to these structures or a part of them and perhaps after writing this the first thing I am going to do is to share this over WhatsApp and Facebook, because thats how you make something reachable to the people and it is inevitable!

R.K.

11:30 PM, perceived well beyond the "safe time" for any woman to be out on the roads of New Delhi, we were travelling through Gurugram after hiring one of the many online cab services. A larger than life size poster of a sensational hollywood actress covered the back screen of his Wagon R. His car seemed to have gone through many rough faces, for the scratches and the broken headlight seemed to tell many stoic stories. On the driving mirror hung a teddy bear keychain, with the soft toy carrying a small heart in its arms and read the obvious "love".

Wearing a brown leather jacket, the sleeves of which would fold, given its improper fitting, as he put his hands on the steering wheel and a tattoo "R.K" would be visible. Given the darkness inside the car, I had to wait for a series street lights to throw their milky lights so that I could see the tattoo clearly.

He gave a flash through his eyes at us by looking in the driving mirror. As we hit the highway, "the girls of today have no sense of decency and modesty" he exclaims after being quiet for a long while. "Many of them come drunk, smoke in my car... how can they do it?! They are women, don't they get it?" His voice grows energetic as one after the other he unravels and narrates many incidents of his relatives before coming to the one of his own. He poignantly puts how his own best friend was caught cheating on his wife, "he was not clever enough! foolish, bastard he was!" "These women are the most clever species on the earth, all they want is money, fashion and their own lives and interests" "Its the man who looks after everything." "Unka kya hai, jab tak paisa hai sab theek hai" (what else do they want once they have the money). 

Few from the political class of the country have been quite demonstrative of their prejudices. The stands of these political leaders is more than just a perceived irresponsible comment, but a reflection of the deep-rooted prejudices and sense of patriarchal ordering of the society where defined norms are forced to be set as standards and words such as "modesty", "decency", "western culture" tend to trivialize and boil down the sexual offences against the women and provide cover to the ghastly acts, for everything ends up blaming the women for being women herself. Perhaps unsurprisingly and may be obviously, this extends far more to the common "citizens" of this country, ranging from public spaces to one's own household. A sense of "loyalty" is expected from the women to adhere to the set norms which if violated, the impending punishment is what they would get in return. Even though the set norms themselves sometimes do not go in tandem with the masculinity which is forced upon the women, resulting in the offences our newspapers are filled everyday with.

He did have plethora of abuses to hurl at the girls who had been in his taxi and his own near ones. Don't they know that women shouldn't drink? They wear small clothes and walk into our cars, how they don't expect for anything to happen then?" ye aurat jaat hi kharab hai, khud karti hein sab aur naam aadmi ka (the women community itself is at fault, for they themselves do everything and blame it on men). According to him they deserve much more abuses. His reasons were justified to himself, for he had no reason to tell, but an ideology to reflect which is perpetrated all too well through a lineage of male adults. He wasted no time in arriving at his own life experience with women and the pride he showed in doing all of it was perhaps no astonishing because we had already come to terms with what we were going to hear, based on what we had been told so far. Whatever he had to tell were no surprises. "bas ek din dimaag satak gaya aur bahot maara usse (one day I just felt like beating her up), he says after narrating how good the initial days of marriage were and how one day he just "felt" like beating her.

"All that I do every week is that I just switch off my cellphone for a couple of days, find a dhaba and just drink." "I too need a break from seeing her everyday, the same old boring her." Before the obvious question could pop up into my mind or I would try to learn from his age, he himself tells us that he had been married for one year. "What would she do when I go back home? Nothing! she would be angry with me for a while and then she would herself feed me with a smile on her face."

A gap has propped up between the patriarchal conservative values in the society and the distorted sexual impulse which they find impossible to resist. The feelings of repression and subjugation on the one hand and the "manly" desires do not find a nexus and the latter is often invoked in pursuit of the former, even when if the two are taken together only inconsistency is what would emerge. For, on the one hand, the same values tend to exorcise the idea of gender equality and freedom and impose sanctity over the female body and on the other hand the desires which are "natural" to men. 

The sense of these notions is perpetuated from generation to generation. The key issue therefore becomes, far away sensitivity, the immediate reformation of these point of views, where gender sensitivity could either supplement it or come in the second instance. Laws obviously have a secondary role to play as the deterrence or harsh punishments cannot do away with the mindset which prevails and takes pride in exercising its power of subjugation over the women. Therefore even after being convicted for a heinous offence, the male members of the society with prevalent mindset would waste no time in giving a laugh to the justice system and proclaim victory and their demonstration of power. A stark image of a handcuffed man walking out of a courtroom after being convicted of a sexual offence, far the signs of regret, rather with a broad smile on his face is a disappointment to the justice the system and the question which needs to be answered remains the same all the time - what, where and how was the "justice"?

A broad smile engulfs his face as he tell us "Where will she go? After all she is mine, I will do what I want with her! Who earns? Her or me? Its the man who toil day and night!" Machismo and objectification had been quite prevalent through his entire narrative, and before he could continue we had reached our destination and the trip ended. There was a huge difference between the teddy bear keychain hanging from his driving mirror and the grotesque ghoul of the masculinity which he spoke of.

The most crucial question which I believe needs to be answered is where do I stand in all of this? All I could do throughout the entire journey was to either sit silent and listen and nod in agreement to all his defined structure and signify my helplessness in doing anything. Putting an argument was beyond point and perhaps a foolish thing to do. But this does confirm my belief that every space is replete with the narratives of machismo and a talking ground for discussion is to be achieved first, before talking about sensitivity, for in absence of agreeing to the fact that indeed there could be any talking ground for gender equality, no notion of sensitivity can creep in. Indeed the next time I see off any of my female close relatives, cousins or friends to a cab, worry is what would grapple me until she reaches safely. I should bear this in mind that this was only a cab driven by a person who is part of the thinking whose father, grandfather and forefathers have all carried on in the same vein. There are many more spaces and "safe" spaces. Law cannot always take the place of a required unprecedented reformation and change of thinking. Much more than that is required to be done.Lets not be content with the tiny teddy bear smiling at you with a little red heart in his hands which read "love".

And may be all of this is not surprising and we already know it.

At ease with the thoughts

A number of ideas exist, some which provide respite, howsoever brief, and others constantly put you under some disturbing thought process. Certainly, you do not choose over your thoughts and ideas because they essentially emanate from a particular set of circumstances. Everyone loves the sight of a smiling person, no blood poured on roads, no beggar and yes people reaching different milestones in their lives and of course, the social media being buffed with smiling faces. We humans have found our own respite in the thoughts where we do not have something adding up to the life and probably because they are a part of our larger lives which in turn are ingrained into our respective cultures. Perhaps this is the beautiful part of our lives that we have been able to identify arenas and reason to cheer. Say, if Indian cricket team wins a cricket match, our sudden idea of camaraderie comes into play, we stand cheering up as 'Indians' and take proud in every moment surrounding the event. Most of us have witnessed things reaching to the climax as soon as the national anthem is played. These are our areas of happiness and our moments of respite, momentary break from everything transpiring in our lives. 

However, often a certain kind of tendency ends up developing that there is a constant running from the thoughts which are disturbing, for e.g., rising victims of terrorism or say more people dying because of cancer. We try to avoid these facts. There is an inherent problem with this because it is inextricably connected with the notion of concern, compassion and empathy towards a certain issue. The tendency is to be indifferent as long as we are not a part of the problem itself, while ignoring that at large everyone gets affected, directly or indirectly.

We select to feel bad and sympathize. If yesterday 39 people were killed in Iraq in a bombing, the same are nothing more than mere numbers and we attribute deaths in Syria or Iraq or any other such places to the volatility of the region and its tendency to violence. We have selected when to be responsive and when to be not!

Another tendency seeks to find respite in certain ideas such as less violence, less deaths, less loss of property, etc. I call this ignorance and indeed "ignorance is a bliss" for as long you keep yourself away from the touch of reality, things are pretty pretty a bliss. This ignorance in turn fuels insensitivity. Therefore, unless we see a tangible nexus to our lives getting affected, there is no idea of a shared grief and larger notion of humanity and forgetting that while I spent my night out with my friends eating out, roaming on the streets, some miles away (hundreds or thousands), the people from the same race were probably tortured last night, or was shot dead or raped or may be people of an entire family or community were extinguished. While I was rejoicing in my 'freedom', there was a much larger than life size fear engulfing individuals, families and communities with no end in the near sight. But we are at ease with our thoughts, because a bombing in Iraq didn't affect my sonorous sleep last night nor it would for times to come. Neither would a farmer suicide affect me as long as I would continue to receive food grains and properly cooked chapati. 

We may turn our faces and rejoice into the fact that less people died in a bomb blast at some place the next day, but reality indeed is stranger than you can suppose. The insensitivity has been let a way in, but the idea of shared responsibility is put aside, because our 'concerns' are different and we will carry on normally with our own lives, with our own problems and our respites.

Kashmir: the other side of the Valley

What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about Kashmir? Paradise on earth? Our neighbour nation? bloodshed? or may be Article 370, due to much furore over it in the recent months?

There cannot be a second opinion on the fact that Kashmir is a truly paradise on earth, the very heaven created by God on earth. And this reminds me of the beautiful and famous lines about the valley: Agar ruhe zami asto, ami asto ami asto ami asto...
Undoubtedly, Kashmir is a beautiful place, and truly a paradise and perhaps one of the best places I have ever visited in my life. The mesmerizing Dal lake with hundreds of colourful Shikaras floating, the ever blowing cool breeze, slowly sipping sweet Kahwa, especially during the peaceful morning or the evening hours, I sat on one of the Shikaras. One could see tall mountains behind, covered with snow, shining as the sun rays fell on them. On the top of one such hill gazes the fortress of Akbar, which has now been closed for some security reasons. A large number of houseboats line up along the boundaries of the lake hosting the guests of the valley to give an unparallel experience through their hospitality. Further, Mughal structure could make anybody to stare at them. The Nishad Gardens, the Shalimaar Gardens, Chashmeshahi, Pari Mahal etc., are the perfect examples of the fineness of the Mughal art.

Moving on, the connecting tourist destinations, viz., Pahelgaam, Sonmarg, Gulmarg further exemplify the existence of heaven on this very planet. The glaciers, mountains- extending beyond the skies, waterfalls and what not. One would not hesitate from uttering- Nature is miraculous!

Kashmir could capture anybody's heart through its scenic and unparallel beauty. Its snow covered mountains, lash green valleys, breathe-taking hilly terrains, rivers, Mughal Structures and yes, the people are simply admirable. 

However, besides its beauty, the other side which is brought much in to discussion is the pertaining border issues, bloodshed, brotherhood and a claim over its integrity.

As one enters the city of Srinagar, one could see army barracks everywhere, with soldiers patrolling within the area of every 400ms, or even closer. It feels like that its not Srinagar, rather it is the 'Fortified Srinagar', with army keeping an eye on every single step of a person. Well thats for the security reason. As I passed through the streets of the city, all that I could think of were the regular bomb blasts, curphews, riots and similar things, as that is what we hear the most through our media.

For the first time when I saw an old man eating Rumali Roti with tea during the morning hours, I was shocked. It was quite different from what I saw everyday here at home and perhaps anywhere else. But afterwards it became quite normal for me as everywhere I went I saw people doing the same thing.

How easy it is for us, the people of the rest of India, to claim it as our integral part, without perhaps looking at the costs of such integration. The army is doing a commendable job of trying to prevent things from falling apart, while most of the times the masses sound disgruntled.

Its youth is ambitious of a bright, azad Kashmir. "We will be free one day, and thats what we hope for", says Shehzaad, the driver who we hired for the tour of Pahalgam, driving speedily through the mountains, making us to hold our breathe, singing songs all the way, commenting on his passing-by colleagues, in short, enjoying.

"Abdullah has done nothing for us. We brought him to the position because of the promises which he made. Mufti will come this time. We hope she will deliver her promises and do something for us", speaks Jahangir, our driver.

Tourism is the main source of income for the people. They work hard to earn the every penny. I wonder, what would have been the condition of the state, had there been a dearth of tourists.

"Illillah..., Illillah..."(the rest I could not understand), they shout as they pull our sledge-cart to the top of the hill. "Allah gives us strenght to pull", speaks Mehfuz, a boy of around 18, smiling, with a shining face, without any wollen covering on his body in the freezing cold, yet seeming full of energy. Trust me, it is very difficult to pull a sledge cart. Yet there were teenagers pulling up the carts with heavy men, women sitting on them. Truly, only God must be giving them such a strenght.

"What do you do in the off season then?", I asked the boy who was holding the reins of the horse which took me up to the hill on the difficult track of the Gulmarg valley from the Gondola (rope way). "We use the horses, down in our village for carrying goods. And sometimes we pull the sledge-cart as still many people visit during the winter." 

There is more to Kashmir merely than its territory, its beauty. Visit there not just to admire the miracle of the nature, but also meet its equally beautiful people, ever-ready to host the guests to the valley.

Though both the sides might be having the genuine claim over the territory, yet the minds of the people of Kashmir are free, far away from the debates of the Parliaments of both the nations.

Travelling Kashmir was altogether a different experience and truly its the meeting with people which enriches your sojourn and makes you to appreciate the diversity and integrity of the country in an even better manner. After all it is not just about travelling and seeing landscapes, its people are as equally important and without talking to them, not just a trip to Kashmir, but any other trip would be incomplete.