fantasy...

Just recently, I chanced hearing an interesting conversation in the first class ladies compartment of an afternoon Virar local. I was on my way back home from college, and observing people around me, in the not-so-crowded compartment, was a subconscious habit.
The conversation involved a woman and a girl of about six, and the two were seated from across me. While the woman was busy leafing through a magazine, the girl was engrossed in her book. I noticed she was reading Cinderella. I returned to the world of Cinderella, my mind wandering through the story. It always felt nice to go back to something that you enjoyed as a child. But my wandering ended abruptly when I heard the girl close the book with a thud and call the woman.
“Mama…”
The woman’s eyes left the magazine for a moment and she looked at her daughter. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Do I have a Fairy-Godmother?” the girl asked, her voice unsteady with nervousness and excitement.
Every girl wanted to believe she was gifted, special, and that there was a Prince Charming who would keep her happy in a Fairy-tale kingdom. Anyone who gets too engrossed in a story begins seeing the real world through different eyes. They start believing that imaginary things exist in reality, and they wish that something unusual would happen to them as well.
I have been through this stage before, and seeing someone else pass through it amused me, lighting my face with a faint smile, as I watched the mother-daughter pair.
“Such things exist only in stories,” the woman said firmly. “Read the story, but don’t believe any of those things. There are no fairy godmothers or magic slippers.” And then she went back to reading her magazine.
The girl looked like she would cry. It was obvious she was hurt by her mother’s words. Of course, it is perfectly understandable for parents to teach their children that fantasies don’t exist in the real. But at times, it is best to let them believe in the impossible. If children can’t even believe that magic does exist and miracles do happen, they will never want to try accomplishing the impossible as they grow up.
What’s the big harm in letting them believe that Fairy-Godmothers and magical kingdoms do exist? They would have enough sense to distinguish between the real and the imaginary as they grow up. Why steal these simple joys of childhood by declaring that those magical things don’t exist?
I felt bad for the girl and wondered if I should say something to cheer her up, but felt unsure if her mother would approve of me telling her that magic does exist. While I debated over this, the girl spoke again.
“Mama?”
“What is it now?” the woman asked with sigh. She looked at her daughter over the top of her magazine.
The girl looked more nervous under her mother’s strict gaze.
The woman smiled seeing her discomfort and patted her daughter’s hand. “What is it, sweetie?” she repeated in a gentler voice.
“Is magic real?” the girl asked gazing expectantly at her mother’s face.
“well…” the woman hesitated, as if debating on what to say to her daughter. “Magic is well not magic…” she said thinking hard.
The girl’s brows knitted in confusion.
The woman sighed. “Magic is just a very well performed trick.”
“Trick?”
“Yes, trick. You have seen a magician wearing a black cloak pull out a bunny rabbit from his tall hat, haven’t you?”
“yes.”
“well, the bunny rabbit doesn’t come out of the hat just like that. The magician puts it in there before he comes on stage to perform his trick.”
The girl stared at her mother in an expression close to disbelief.
“So magic is nothing but a trick used to fool us,” her mother concluded with a confident nod of her head.
“But the Fairy-Godmother doesn’t pull out a bunny rabbit!” the girl protested.
The woman smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair. “That’s because Fairy-Godmother is a part of the story and she does what the writer makes her do. That’s why she can turn a pumpkin into carriage and mice into horses or give new clothes to Cinderella with just a wave of her wand.”
The little girl looked dejected. “So I don’t have a Fairy-Godmother?”
The woman ruffled her daughter’s hair again, laughing. “You have me, don’t you?” she said. “Why do you need a Fairy-Godmother?”
I watched the girl’s expression carefully and noticed that she was disappointed.
It sure is hard on a child, when she is forced to accept something she doesn’t want to believe in. But its even more difficult, when someone else shatters the illusion created by the child’s beliefs, in an attempt to let their mind mature faster. Why cant people just let children live their childhood in these fantasy illusions? God is the Creator, the Source of everything, the One who watches over every little part of his creation. A Fairy Godmother is a Good Soul or a kind-hearted Fairy who watches over humans and nature. So, isn’t Fairy Godmother just a variation of the term God?
The conversation ended there, but my chain of thoughts continued.
Why is it that people don’t think magic existed? Of course magic exists. We see it every day, and yet we find it hard to believe. Every living moment of our life is a miracle and yet people don’t see it for what it is. I have often wondered why is it so that people pray to God for miracles to happen and yet when they see a miracle happen, they doubt its integrity. People tend to approach miracles and anything connected to magic or the supernatural with scientific analysis. When people don’t take the initiative to find out how any gadget functions, why do they desire to know how a miracle is caused? If they can accept the gadgets without knowing much about how it functions and why it functions the way it does, why cant they simply accept magic and miracles and appreciate its beauty?
To search for the source of magic is different from analyzing its authenticity using science. Its high time people start accepting the fact, that there are many things scientific analysis cannot answer.
Magic does exist. Miracles do happen.
Ever seen a flower bud blossom into a flower? A dew drop cascading down a leaf? A newborn child closing its fingers around its mother’s one finger?
If that isn’t magic, then what is?
But people hardly take time out to observe these things. In this busy super-fast paced life, people hardly find time to observe these miracles that happen around them. How many people have spent time watching a caterpillar evolve into a butterfly or gazing at the monsoon sky for a rainbow? How many people take time to enjoy a leisure walk among trees, breathing in the pure oxygen that they exhale and appreciating the green beauties of nature?
Nature is full of magic and miracles. A gigantic tree grows from a tiny seed, this tree flowers, bears fruits and lives on for a great number of years. Nature is always a riot of colors and it changes its form and color with the change of every season. This is what magic is.
People believe that prayers help save a dying soul, and that prayers have the power to influence one’s present and the future. People pray to God believing in the Divine Being to grant them their wishes. Is this not believing in miracles and magic? So if people can accept the fact that God exists, then they can very well accept that everything created by Him is magic and all wishes granted by Him are miracles.
Magic is not what magicians do onstage. What they do is create an illusion to entertain the audience. Magic is what everyone sees but no one recognizes and believes.
Gazing at the star studded sky with fluffs of clouds, the feeling of raindrops on one’s face, the whispering of trees in the wind, laughter of children filling one’s ears, the chirping of birds, the moon bathing the world in its silvery light, the glowing sunset painting the world in orange while sinking into the sea, the fragrance of wet soil and every other thing we experience is pure magic.
It is time grown-ups understand this fact. They should remember that they too believed in these fantasies during their childhood. Without a magical dream to lose ourselves into, life would be really monotonous and work, a burden. To believe in the little miracles of nature, in the little fantasies of children, to live in a world born of our own imagination when reality gets too tiring or dull, is how we can make life on earth exciting, worth living.
And the sooner people realize and understand this truth, the sooner they will experience every miracle that life provides.
All people need to remember is that ‘Life is Magic and Living Life to its Fullest is a Miracle’. And they can begin this by first believing in their Fairy Godmother.

Miracles happen even today!

It’s rightly said that one cannot escape his destiny. She was too was caught in a trap which destiny planned for her, a trap that she probably always wanted to get trapped in. On 16th March 2011 as Sheena(identity changed) scrolled the daily newspaper, she came across an article that spoke about the people who shared their experience about how miracles happened in their lives, which turned their lives beautiful. Each of the individual mentioned that they experienced a miracle either in the form of an incident, accident, experience or through a person in their lives. At the end of the page were the concluding lines which after reading she started racking her brains. The lines said “that a miracle was like a blessing that each person is endowed with at least once in their life, all you have to do is keep your senses open to witness it. The miracle must have happened in your past, or is happening in the present or will happen in future”.
And then she began drowning in the pleasant memories. She realized that there were incidences and people who had proved to be a boon in her life, however her mind and soul she refused to accept them to be a miracle as all those instances were very much expected to happen. The only option she was left with was to wait for a miracle to happen in the near future. She didn’t really know if all that she had read was true but then still she chose to keep that article with her. Days passed by and she forgot about all that had happened. She believes that life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood and so accordingly she was living her life that taught her some lessons and from those lessons she learnt, she drew her own set of principles.
Since the time she had stepped in the magical city named mumbai, she had come across many people who pretended to be something they were not, it’s an exceptionally difficult thing to do though. She said, “My past experiences made me become very choosy about friends. I wouldn’t interact with people I didn’t know and even if I did I wouldn’t call them as friends.” She had made quite some friends in Bombay but she was always absorbed in the feeling of insecurity .Due to the lack of presence of her family, my friends were everything for her, in short they played a vital role in her sweet little world in the city. Sheena was never alone but still feeling of being incomplete swept in her. She didn’t know what was lacking or why she felt so, all she knew was that something was MISSING. I wanted somebody like me with whom I could share everything and anything; she didn’t speak about it to anybody pondering that people would think she was inane.
One day she got introduced to a person through a text message. At that point she didn’t know who he was, she had never seen or heard of him previously. He was a stranger to sheena whose soul for her was a dark forest. Whenever she got a chance to know a stranger like him she always refused, in such situations it had always been a big NO from her side. So as usual she didn’t show a keen interest in knowing him. She had made up her mind to avoid stranger in order to stay away from risk and danger but something in her said that the pearl was in the sea and if she wanted it she had to dive this time. She was lost in an unfamiliar territory of thoughts.
She felt as if she did something that was wrong, after the conversation she had with him; unknowingly she started feeling that something was slipping off her hands and kept asking herself whether what she did was right or wrong .But she temporarily consoled herself.
Days passed by but this thought quite frequently knocked sheena’s mind. Such incidents happened to her many times before but she never thought over it ever again. But surprising this incident got registered in her head.
Gradually they started conversing daily; it became a part of her daily schedule. They were getting well versed with each other, after knowing him she could sense a feeling of goodness and sanctity in him. He lived miles away from her and she had never seen him so she was clueless as to whatever he says about himself is true or not. For Sheena this was a situation of complete dilemma but her inner voice kept favouring him. Feeling of guilt never happened to hover around her.
The overwhelming feeling shared by sheena, she explained “It’s a feeling I can’t describe but I want to hold it all my life. Today I don’t know what I am doing is right or wrong, all I know is LIFE FEELS GOOD. And even if it was wrong, this time I would love to choose the wrong path.” When she asked herself questions like how, why, when the only answer that strikes is that it’s a MIRACLE....a miracle which she had always been longing for and many other hearts long for.
This encounter proved to be a myth broker for me and I today believe in miracles, miracles which can blossom many gardens called LIFE.

SOME THINGS NEVER COME BACK.

Time washed everything away,
Including every proof of your existence;
It was as if you were never there.
But tears I cried for you remain on my face…
Wave after wave of memories shared,
Emerge from the sea of my heart;
The music from those lost happy times,
Echoes in faint sadness in the background…
You were someone in whose arms my childhood was drenched
But now can’t touch no matter how far I stretch…
Wandering timelessly in the silence of my memories,
You will always keep alive in me,
Alive in the form of solitaire music in my heart,
Stroked by the hopeful strings of loving thoughts…
And my dream of flying over seas in the skies
Searching for you, repeats itself every night…
When the dark night falls, I hear your voice in my heart,
I fall asleep in your embrace, snuggling close to your mirage,
Burying myself in the warmth of your memory…
I sit in the dry wind and wonder
Why night snatched you away from me

What’er Pollution?

Waste disposal has always been a chronic problem, not only because of the quantity of wastes, but because of its kind and the inadequate provision for a good system and technology to address the problem. There are many sources of water pollution but it is not the source that is really causing the problem but the improper disposal of the pollutants. People resort to careless disposal because it is cheaper, more advantageous, or simply convenient to them. When you are taking a bath using your favorite shampoo or whenever you wash your laundry using no other than the best detergent in town, it is certain that before buying those products you really never consider asking yourself whether their contents can harm the environment or not. What mattered more was the scent and softness of your hair and the clean comfort of your clothes. Instead of finding an environmental friendly product, you simply chose convenience and your satisfaction of meeting your interests. However, if you will support environmental friendly products and become more conscientious of how you can avoid contributing to water pollution, then the world has gotten rid of one polluter. Today, the world is facing one of the most serious problems of humanity and other forms of life, pollution. It is a known fact that pollution is very rampant all over the globe. Just look around and you will see rivers, lakes, beaches that are murky, stinky, and lifeless. Plastic, empty cans, bottles, and other trash have replaced the fishes and other wonderful marine creatures that used to reside under water. Yet, when scarcity arises and when epidemics occur many point their fingers to others and turn their backs from the responsibility. But in fact there is no one else to blame but the people. Man is the main cause of water pollution.

People pollute the water with chemicals and other hazardous materials. People have no regard to water - their source of life. They do not realize that this once abundant resource is rapidly being contaminated due to their negligence and carelessness. Today, the world is facing one of the most serious problems of humanity and other forms of life, pollution. It is a known fact that pollution is very rampant all over the globe. Just look around and you will see rivers, lakes, beaches that are murky, stinky, and lifeless. Plastic, empty cans, bottles, and other trash have replaced the fishes and other wonderful marine creatures that used to reside under water. Yet, when scarcity arises and when epidemics occur many point their fingers to others and turn their backs from the responsibility. But in fact there is no one else to blame but the people. Man is the main cause of water pollution. People pollute the water with chemicals and other hazardous materials. People have no regard to water - their source of life. They do not realize that this once abundant resource is rapidly being contaminated due to their negligence and carelessness.

mumbai dekho !

Today when I sat down alone I reflected back on what Mumbai bestowed upon me and what this place taught me? I wouldn’t be able to make a note of millions of other astounding things which happened to me here, but still a few are as follows.
It turned me from a believer to a practical thinker, from the one who splurges to the one who thinks million times before pulling out that green Gandhi note from the pocket.
Be it the field of pimples on my face or be it knack of getting on & off the local, the fact is that it has given me a lot, lot more than I thought and will continue, I bet on that.
Came as a stranger in this metropolis I soon got the flair to survive this city and imbibed all small-big factors and elements of it.
Got tied in some knots which are not easy to untie-certain relations which keep me leashed with this fast moving city, where people are busy running their rat race. Something that I observed about the people here is that they are so busy running with their heads high and eyes glued to their cell phones that they don’t have time to look around at some beautiful things. They can never figure out a beautiful rainbow in the sky, all they know is to walk through the rain and over the puddles; they know how to move on in life. It is surprising but I found out a few out of the crowd who really care, to whom my existence matters a lot.
This place is responsible for rendering me some relations which I didn’t want, which I always avoided- avoided till the 18 years of my life, but this is what we call life and as they say some things in life are unfair and some inevitable; a life with abundant spices and colors. And now that relation has become my need, my want. I see millions of faces everyday but not everyone wants to be or would a part of your life, the life which is always ready to give us surprises. And trust me coming to Mumbai is one of those bombs which suddenly exploded on my head and somewhere deep inside my heart feels happy to be here.
All I want to say is that in the midst of this race just don’t forget to enjoy your precious life. Try and take a detour, it’s fun.

The monster of desires

Let the flashback start,
When they were both friends
And then love got together both the ends
He loved her a lot,
But the same she never thought
As the distance disappeared,
They both came near
He never understood what it was, until to himself he asked, “what happens to me when I see her? Why this fire, why this desire?
Why I want to fondle her, swoop her in my arms, kiss her and always lie next to her.”
He named it passion, he named it love.
But for her this was not love.
When one day under the blanket of stars they met, with the burning desire in him his eyes turned red.
He held her tight, she pushed him away and ran with tears in his eyes.
As the flashback ends, the story bends.
This urge of sex and pleasure made him a monster.

why

It’s been years since you’ve gone, Sans you We’ve learnt to walk, We’ve learnt to smile and I’ve come so far
Sans you We stand together as each other’s strength.
You'll watch me from far and one day I’ll be your star.
I know YOU are somewhere around.
I know you miss us all and see us from the heavens above.
If you knew you would miss us then why you chose to go, why I want to know
Why you became so mean just for your rest and peace,
Why you turned our smiling cheeks into the path of running tears.

the distance

I know not from what distant time
thou art ever coming nearer to meet me.
Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye.

In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard
and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret.

I know not only why today my life is all astir,
and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart.

It is as if the time were come to wind up my work,
I feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence
I feel thy touch as i close my eyes

I KNOW I CAN'T GO BACK

I know I can’t go back
I want to be a child again,
Sans tension and pain
Moving as easy as a star
Driving my small hot wheels car
Ripping our Barbie dolls and making new clothes,
When irritated we break their heads and their toes
Stethoscope around the neck and pencil in our hands, poking each other’s tiny backsides and say “now you are fine”
Bringing puppies and kittens home from the streets,
Decorating them with beads and flowers
Troubling tiny fireflies and frogs
With dragonfly’s tail tied to a thread sprinting left and right
“zoom, here comes my helicopter”
Doodling and embossing hands on the walls
As toddlers, holding hands and running together “you be dad and I’ll be mom” under that house made up of a torn bed sheet
Sitting in one corner of the house next to a flower pot cooking food with leaves and branches in tandem with a kitchen set,
Stealthily looking around and eating things from the ground
“kooo-chhuk chhuk” here comes the greatest train in the world,
With young ladies in their mommy’s best lip stick and stilettos
With young lads in their dad’s most expensive coats
I know I can’t go back
Back to those sleepless afternoons
Into those crazy sand castles
To those fights which said “boys are best-NO girls are best”
Kicking, hitting, pulling hair
Yelling, shrilling with all the guts in the air
Running inside the house with a monster shout
Hugging mom from her legs with wet eyes and a puppy pout
Running behind grand mom for some pennies to get candies and that the doctor said would make our teeth rot.
Then we’re stuffed full to overflowing, our faces a collage of mango, chocolate and snot
Pestering parents to buy us things that neighbor’s child had
There were millions of things I know that we did,
We dreamed, we fought, we were punished, we were kids.
I conjure in my mind, these memories in my head,
And I refuse to come back- I’ll live here instead.

home away from home

With the bag packs I walked through the door,
saw some of them sitting and some lying on the floor.
As I walked in I smiled and winked
Searching for the one whom I know, I headed towards the warden’s office to ask which way to go
She took a leap and walked ahead to show me where was
my cupboard and bed.
I entered inside the room and unpacked my stuff,
With relief on my face I untied my laces and opened my cuffs.
Dinner time! The bells rang
I picked up my plate and downstairs I ran
Standing in the queue I questioned “how is the food?”
“New in the hostel?” wait for few days you will come to know”
I got the reply.
Although I craved for home food I ate, I chatted, I became friends.
Soon no one remained a stranger and we formed a league,
Started off with a mission, to trouble the alien who had mal- nutrition, people called warden.
We knocked, we ran, we hid, imitated and laughed
We did things she never thought, all those things surely made her hot.
We bitched, we shared – when angry we stared
Had nights dipped in songs, dance, maggie and guitars,
When nothing to do we acted like retards
From mid-night birthday wishes to sneak outs,
From late nights to night outs.
We became partners in crime,
in dark rooms we had movie prime time.
Hostel life taught us a lot,
What to do when you can’t cut things according to your cloth.
How to travel, what to eat,
What to keep and what to delete.
There were times when we hog and sometimes we starve like a dog.
And now I sigh when I think about the day we all will be in different phases and spheres of life and when will take a walk down this old, sparkling, emotional and funny memory lane.
I bet there will be curve on the face and droplets in our eyes.
I’m going to miss this place, these days and my darlings.

THE cULt oF YouNgIsTaAn !

In the world of young Indians, there is nothing taboo. They are open to everything from late night rave parties, body piercings, going around with the opposite sex, sexual relationships with multiple partners, sitting idle on the marine drive, clubs, parks etc. These things define the cool culture today and this is what we call “hanging around” and being “chill-axed.” The drug addiction has also gripped the youth. Most drug addicts are male, but there are several girls hooked on to drugs too. Major reasons are brunt and peer pressure which drag youth into drugs today. Few get into it out of frustration. Avoid or face those friends who call you a ’sissy’ or ’chicken’ for not indulging in their ’pastimes’. You may say that it is an individual’s right to do whatever he/she wants to do and then the time comes when our elders might say “you are big enough to know what is right and what is wrong”. NIGHT OUTS, lounging in the pubs, tapping your feet to the rocking music in discs, showing off 8 GB I-Pods, android mobiles, Levis jeans and Woodland shoes are the common lifestyle of the urban youth today. We feel if we do not have all these ’cool stuffs’, then it will affect our image in college campus or our common hang-outs. This race to be ’cool’ is also taking its toll on children and youth as well.

There is an increase in the number of cases of depression, stress, insomnia, anorexia among the children in the last few years. The prime reason being pressure from parents, teachers and especially the friends who want them to be cool and look cool. For a child, who does not believes in such nonsense, life is tougher. He is neglected by the classmates, teased all the time with rude comments, humiliated and soon he finds himself under depression. He is made to believe that his thinking, values, traditions etc are very primitive and they find no place in today’s world. This, sometimes, leads them to take extreme step.
It is shocking to know that to help them commit suicide there are loads of websites, which promote the same. And, unfortunately, there is no control over these websites! There is a rat-race of being ’cool’ is in the country or rather is a hit by now. Thus, it is very essential for the youth to understand what is right and wrong and not to fall prey to the ’cool’ race. A strong religious base combined with strong family ties and high morals can help the youth if they find these things ’cool’.

TUNES OF HUNGER

Balloons, ice-creams and glittering toys bring joy to a child but, this man here brings joy to children through music. In fact he has what it takes to make everyone take time out and pay attention to what he does. Every day he walks down the boulevard and plays his wooden instrument, a small wooden piece which had a lot of resemblance to sitar and violin. With a few more of these in a basket on his head, he moves from place to place throwing in a glimpse of his skill here and there. Not much, but enough for people to ponder over. He gives just enough away to catch people’s attention and then stops creating a craving in others to want to hear more. Either ways he would have to stop because no sooner does he stop playing his music, than a dozen children could be seen dashing towards him shouting and cheering, all wanting to have a go at the instrument. So that does the trick for him. Just enough to create enough interest to drop a tiny bomb called excitement in the young minds which would soon create havoc in front of their parents to buy the instrument. Why go to twenty different households when you can get them all to come towards you? So that is his marketing strategy. It’s ironical how thousands of students spend hours at MBA colleges to learn how to sell their product while this man just whips it out of his head. He sure can give Al Ries a run for his money.

Obviously parents try a lot to convince them about the prospect that they won’t be able to play the instrument the way. They are aware of the dangers that ears have to go through when you don’t play music the way it is supposed to be played. So buying the instrument would mean a couple of weeks filled with noise till it gets discarded or a lucky parent might actually see their child succeeding in playing the instrument. But the odds aren’t definitely going their way at that moment but since the odds of actually succeeding in explaining all this to their children is worse than that of keeping an entrance exam for entering politics, they finally give in to the children. Thus our poor old but clever man here gets something to prevent starvation.
So, our man here ( since I don’t know his name, let’s call him Suresh ) wakes up every morning as the rooster calls and sets off on his usual beat around the city. His music is his passion and it’s this zeal in him for his music that earns him his bread for the day. Suresh’s history is as disturbing as every other man on the street. His wife’s death brought a definite demise to his companionship and soon he secluded himself from everything except his music. Being left alone to look after himself he soon accepted his new acquaintance with loneliness. His life expectancy pretty much lingers around the amount of music he can produce out of his instrument which is his sole bread-earner.
Nevertheless, it is interesting to see how music becomes the answer to survival or pure passion. In our busy lives, we fail to notice small things lying around us. If we just open our eyes and ears, we would definitely find that the man playing music in our street is not actually playing it from a flute but from something very different.
Sure, we can hear better soothing music from our I-pods but these people are doing it just to survive. The thought should raise many questions. They cannot play music with a guitar. If they could get their hands on one, they wouldn’t be on the streets in the first place. These are harsh realities of life that should raise questions in our impatient minds and if God help, some concern the next time we see someone playing something on the streets.
When I went back to see him, I did not find him anywhere in the market or in the streets. The enthralling tune, which made everyone turn, which caught my senses, despite all sort of noises was lost , and unfortunately might not be heard again.