Friday, October 26, 2012

Discovering Thyself

I do not know if it is because of the sun sign that she and I share, but Ayn Rand’s theory of Objectivism and her ideas of ‘selfishness’ being the ultimate truth of human nature, came as little shock to me. I found an easy acceptance of her thoughts, which echoed somewhere deep within me as my fear of voicing it aloud had prevented me from sharing it with anyone for the fear of sounding almost blasphemous. ‘The Fountainhead’ has helped me overcome this fear and I now am all set to reinforce my belief in what perhaps might sound as one of the greatest anti-moral endorsements.
 Among the many differences between human beings and all other forms of life, the most vital is the presence of Ego in the former. Ego, or the sense of ‘I’, taken in the positive sense, is a gift every person is born with. It is what gives a person his identity, and is the reason for his having taken birth in this world. The ‘I’ is therefore extremely essential for every person in order to live and make his life meaningful. Therefore, the aim of life for every person is the discovery of what he makes of the ‘I’ through the course of his life’s journey.
 While religion and morality preaches the subduing of the ‘I’, which is the key to peace and harmony for humanity; it is however, important to understand why and how the ‘I’ should not be shunned and seen as an evil. This is what Ayn Rand has ventured to expound in ‘The Fountainhead.’ In complete agreement with her, it is also a personal espousal of mine in believing in the empowerment of the ‘I’, for it is only when one is strong in oneself, can one be a provider of strength to others. I feel a similar, though indirect echo in Darwin’s theory of ‘survival of the fittest’ (another persona born under the same sign!)
  ‘The Fountainhead’ is about people and characters, rather than the plot. It is hence, of little wonder then, that in all the best literature, it is the characters that are remembered, and the books even named after, such as Jane Eyre, David Copperfield. This makes it much more real and inspiring. The greatness of an author hence perhaps lies in their ability to give life to such characters. For example, in all of Shakespeare’s plays it is the characters and the dialogues that are remembered.  Rand’s characters in the novel belong to that unforgettable treasury of human learning and experiences that have been immortalized not as mere literary characters but as mirrors of that innermost essence in people that has been trained to be concealed through deception and conceit under the guise of societal norms and social approval.  This novel compels the reader into an inevitable introspection and weighing of his deeds and actions and the contemplation of the true goal of his life.
 ‘The Fountainhead’ is a mind-altering experience. It changes you and makes you want to change into not a ‘better’ person, but simply the ‘best’; for that is what the book advocates. It encourages you to rise above yourself and to shun mediocrity. It teaches how and why to love and worship the ‘I’. Rand enlightens the need for the ‘Ego’ and of its importance.
 The novel, which consists of an un-putdownable 694 pages, is one of the very few books I have come across which are engrossing right from the beginning till the end, which is a feat considering its size. Normally, most large books have a tendency to have a slow beginning, or else tend to peter down in the middle or second quarter with a few boring pages or skippable paragraphs. ‘The Fountainhead’ has however given me sleepless nights when I was unable to finish it earlier than I wished. I have not attempted a pure review of the novel, as I believe that if one ventures to review it, then it deserves nothing less than a thorough academic analysis, for such is the vastness of Rand’s philosophies which require an in-depth study. This instead, is a pure outpour of an immediate reaction in its complete rawness. I invite anyone willing to have a spiritual awakening to let themselves experience this masterpiece in order to understand the true secret of human existence – a truth that is silenced under garbs of human constructs of selfishness – that of the negative kind.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

The First Shower

The feel of cool breeze over unwiped sweat
The first drop of rain that slides down the temple all the way to the neck
The tongue reaches out to lick the trail of hot chocolate
that has drooled down the corner of the lower lip
The leftover drops and mist on the window annihilates photoshop.

With strands of curls dripping down wet
She moves like the trail of the first shower
Slithering in and out of the undulating tar
The setting fire of the senses catching her glimpse from the door ajar.

The smudge of kohl around her eyes
Rivals those floating masses in the sky
The rumbling thunder is belittled by
the melody of the trinkets on her bare feet.

As the puddle fills up, so does my heart
Saturated with desire ready to burst
Ah the agony of holding back.

In wait I sit, for her to come and rain
Come and rain upon me
Till eternity.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Describing the colour red to a blind person

It feels like blood, slithering down
It is sometimes hot, sometimes warm.
Acrid maybe, or a pungent smell,
Once recognised, it isn’t hard to tell.
It could burn your tongue; or be completely sweet,
It is festive and happy, like a child’s treat.
You can hear it rushing, like a city bus,
You can hear it soaring in a robin’s flight,
The sign of danger, cautioning your tread,

This is how it looks, the colour red.

Friday, March 9, 2012

To The Only One That Was

It has been the finest era
You helped create, brick by brick.
You converted a mere game
Into the lifeblood that made every Indian tick.
Sixteen years is all you chose to give us,
Leaving us asking for more…
Not another man has the game produced,
That we could so much adore.
You’re not gone, you never will be
You’ll continue to live in the memories of all,
Thank you for the sheer delight, thank you, ‘the Wall’.

After Hearing ‘God’s Channel’

I was asked by some one very close to me to close my eyes and listen to this song. The following was what I felt:

When the song began, I could see a vast open area as if on the top of a hill. It had tall grasses that came up till my chest. The time was sunset, so all around it was bathed in orange colour. There was a strong breeze in which the grass was swaying. The point of view was mine, and I saw another girl, a young child a little away from me. She was wearing a plain white sleeve-less knee-length frock. She had open hair till her shoulders which was also blowing in the wind. She was fair and had a big wide smile, and her mouth was open in happiness. She was ahead of me, wading through the tall grasses, parting them and making way for herself with her hands. She would pause from time to time and look at me.

The scene then shifted to a beach scene. The same girl and I are in water that's till our chest. The waters are very calm and there are no waves. The time is the same, sunset, with everything orange in colour. I am, as usual, scared being in water, at the same excited. But the little girl is not scared at all and is enjoying herself.

Next scene I'm lying on a completely white surface. There is a very soft blanket-like plain white cloth under me, which I have kept on my lap and I am bending down to lie with my face on it with my eyes shut. The white cloth cannot be differentiated from the whiteness around. I feel very calm and relaxed and I am falling asleep.

When that part of the song comes, where the guy is saying something, I am still lying on the white cloth; but I feel I am hearing those voices from above me, as if there are people walking on the ceiling.

The overall feeling I got from the song was a feeling of suffocation, like the exact kind of feeling when you are chest-deep in water and there's that slight fear of drowning. That's why I was in water that was chest deep, and grass that was tall till my chest. In both the first scenes, I was scared, because of that feeling of suffocation, but looking at the little girl so care-free and enjoying herself, I derived confidence from her and felt safe that everything's ok. The orange colour all around me was soothing, but the strong breeze was a little uncomfortable.
I felt weightless throughout, and when I was lying on the white cloth, I felt my body going numb. 

When I actually opened my eyes after hearing the song, my hand had grown numb.

Kumbalangi Nights: Empowering men to step away from the masquerade of masculinity

Amidst the cries of #MeToo and debates on ambiguous forms of feminism,  Kumbalangi Nights  comes as a breath of fresh air that deals w...