I tread on my daily path today just like each day in the past six months. This journey leads me to my college. Not a place I am really fond of, but one that has made me adapt to the changes that have occurred lately in my not-so-long life. Whatever it is, however it is, it has made me accept life as it came to me. But this is not really what I am here to discuss so let me not catch up the wrong path.

 

I caught my college bus like each other day, and as always I didn’t speak much to the people around me. Instead, this time, instead of playing with my thoughts I chose to free lance my environment and microcosm to which I always belonged but never gratified.

 

And this time I realized that I had more lessons to learn from the people around me than ever were taught. Values as dedication, sincerity, selflessness, beliefs, acceptance of reality summoned me in a manner I never had thought!

 

I saw the austerity in happiness of a little child on walking with his grand father; The love in the company of a younger sibling; the freedom of a man in his daily mundane tasks. I witnessed the religious morning offerings of an old man on the corner of the road; the unspoken helplessness of a man wearing a shirt that pronounced freedom of speech, actions and thoughts even as he stood on a dirty road corner reading a newspaper that announced the sufferings inflicted in the name of religion.

 

I always valued my thoughts galore. But on witnessing a society more thoughtful, valued and content than me… I learnt to look beyond. Significantly or insignificantly, the journey of those around you is their own, but you always tend to be a part of the non dynamic chapters of their lives.  

I proudly watched the defense forces parade past my lane as I stood on a parked scooter a few yards away from the marching forces. I reinvented the lax necessity of witnessing a parade being a citizen of this republic.

Before today I had watched a live parade but I cannot trace the number of years that have passed since then. As I climbed on the scooter and watched the smartly dressed young men and women pass by I realized how ludicrously I had missed showering the accolade on the young patriots.

My eyes kept shifting from the performers to the audience. How each one struggled to get a glimpse of the march past was appalling. It was at that moment that I felt envious of the young marchers… I thought of the pride they could boast of being a part of the parade as people crowded around just for a glimpse of them…they were the people in whose hands we Indians had placed our faith. I wished I could be a part of that march past and be on the receiving end of the admiration.

On a greater shift of focus I was overwhelmed to see that people actually climbed up terraces and hoardings to be testimony to the parade. Irrespective of their age, faith, belief, they were all huddled up to experience the march of the republic. Kids sitting on strong shoulders, ladies ascended on walls, young boys packing themselves on trees and even sadhus making their way through the crowd with Indian flags hadn’t been a common sight for me before.

I realized that all this while I had under estimated the real India. It wasn’t just Bollywood stars that attracted the public. It was the people who really took charge of the country that attracted equal attention.

PROUD TO BE AN INDIAN.

are they the shadows that demark the reality from the fake?

attention please

For all those who have gone through my blog before…I am here with a change in my blog; partly to use my brains and partly to feel good about the change. The ‘EXPRESS’ blog has now been renamed ‘CATHARSIS’. The author remaining unchanged; is just trying to bring about innovation and consistency in the blog from now on. Do continue visiting my blog…I hope I successfully attract your attention to it.

 

Yours sincerely,

HeathenJ

“And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.”

 

How fondly I recall these lines you probably can not perceive. They are a part of the poem by Robert Frost I had once studied at school. The poem has a soft corner for all that is important in life. And it definitely is good to be reminded of it every now and then. It has a fine balance between desire and duty. Though its not just this quality of the poem that makes it special to me.

 

The more important part of the story is that this poem was taught to me by a lady who lives no more. Though I didn’t know her much, nor did she know me the same, but somehow we tend to remember people when they leave. No extraordinarily special place for her in my heart; or any inclination for what she ever said or told, but a simple recurrence of memories when I remind myself that even to the last day of her life I didn’t do much but trouble her.

 

‘Daffodils’… that was the poem she taught me last when she left. I don’t know why do I still remember it? I don’t know if she was more than just a teacher. I don’t know if I reciprocated her efforts duly. What I do know is that I still remember her. I still remember that she was a true lady I knew. I still remember the gracefulness she showcased. And I also remember that I shed tears when she lived no more!

I look back, I look ahead, I stumble and I walk ahead. I dream, I cry, I hope, and I fail. I smile and I cry, only to laugh again harder than before. Only to come in terms with the beauty of life, only to walk ahead more determined than before, only to walk through life alone…no expectations, no obligations, only me; inspired with life!

 

Life with its demises and bliss, comes stronger than ever before every time I sulk, giving me no reason to do it again. Life with its imperfections make me contended and wonder if the imperfections just make life even more perfect. I look ahead in hope undeterred by the failures I might have to face, unconcerned with the imperfections that might be in store for me.

Only with the highs and lows do you see an even road.

deplorable thought 
crushing the intimacy of heart;
the restlessness 
of suffocation 
overpowering the 
once upon a time strength:
the indecisive superiority 
of the present weakness
killing the spirit 
that lead it ahead.
the ignorance created 
out of the dependence 
on the 'strength',
made it handicapped
to speak for itself.

the reason was wretched 
for the sake of 
the undeserving cause;
but it still isn't late:
though even more difficult 
is to convince its own self 
in favour of the action
so strongly wished for 
but even strongly contradicted.

I found it thoughtful that the most beautiful conversations of my life happened when I spoke nothing!

Relentless seclusion; of beliefs and of faith,

Repudiation of the pervasive misery,

The sacrilege recurring to haunt the cause

And prevalence of doctrines…

The very core of disbelief. 

 

Mustering the faith to idealized selflessness,

Altruism making way for resentment;

Acceptance drowning its reason in the midst of pain.

 

I know I seem to be playing with words in this write up. That is precisely what I love to do. Though they do make a lot of sense…at least to me they do…It describes a split second of catharsis that occurs in the attempt to fight for the right.