My Old Known...

Comprehension.

Is a tough task.
Especially of things you have never dealt with,
Of people you have never known,
Of destinations you have never visited.

Understanding unseen avenues,
Requires efforts to the core
You need help to establish
That the unknown would become known
And you would rejoice in it
Just as you do the things
You already know

Yet, not knowing something is
Reason enough for saying
"I dont know it yet!",
For who has been able to
fathom deep into
The meanings not seen, not met.

But how do I explain this.
This lack of understanding,
When the unknown is a known
When I knew with surety
That the known was known all

That the argument of no familiarity
Does not hold true,
That the excuse of newness
Is afterall just an excuse

Or so it can be
That this inability
Is not one at all
That which I call new,
Was an old bond lost
 to be recalled;
That mere setbacks can not
Be termed unfathomable comprehensions
That the familiarity has
Always been a thing

For when a truly familiar avenue,
Seems like a destination far
That is when comprehension and patience,
Observe from a corner,
For they know this familiarity comes
From that old bond,
Which is why it is rock strong:
However, when such a bond encounters
A parting by distance,
Takes not long to know and decide
What seems like you have not understood
Is a soul you only have misunderstood.

From the alleys of sorrow

As I do with most of my creations, I translated this one song a little while ago and forgot that I had even made any such attempt. The lyrics depict the ailing heart of a woman whose love of life is not with her anymore. Though emotions of such magnitude can not be caged within the limits of words, I tried translating this song in a naive attempt to at least make the essence a little fathomable to those unacquainted with the nuances of Hindi.

Thought I should share it here.

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तुम मुझे भूल भी जाओ तो ये हक़ है तुमको,
मेरी बात और है मैंने तो मोहब्बत की है।

Replace me in your memories, rightfully you may, But /In my disparate case, forgetting you shall equal dismay, /For I have a connection that you know of not, /The connection of love that I hold but you do not.

मेरे दिल की मेरे जज़्बात की कीमत क्या है...

My heart and my emotions, /my tangled thoughts and illusions, /are they worthy or not? If so, I ask, they are worth what?/ I yearned for your love, and could you not love me back?/ This all is the value of this confounding question that I ask. /Choose not to respond to this query, rightfully you may, But/ in my disparate case, doing the same to you equals dismay,/ For I have a connection that you know of not,/ The connection of love that I hold but you do not.

ज़िन्दगी सिर्फ़ मोहब्बत नहीं कुछ और भी है...

Life is not merely about love but beyond,/ The heavens of beauties firstly adorned,/ In a world chastised by thirst and hunger,/ Life is not only love but issues quite others,/ Choose to ignore me, rightfully you may, But/ In my disparate case, Doing the same to you equals dismay,/ For I have a connection that you know of not, / The connection of love that I hold but you do not.

तुमको दुनिया के गम-ओ-दर्द...

Worldly sorrows are what you heed everyday,/ So be it that for me not a moment do you spare./ Everybody else is to whom a lover you are / So be it that for me, your love is so distant, so far./ ‘I am yours', the miracle thought, is no less a victory,/ So be it that you are, simply not my destiny./ In your love's conflagration, Choose to let my heart burn,/

तुम मुझे...

Because doing all of this to me, is what rightfully you may, But, O beloved!,/ In my disparate case, doing the same to you equals dismay,/ For I have a connection that you know of not, / The connection of love that I hold but you do not,/ The bondage of love that I hold but you do not.

Matters that matter

Just finished lunch and came back to my little space that makes me think that I work. My study. 

As I embark upon another journey of if's and but's in my work, I oscillate greatly between my past and my present. It was a few months back that I was struck by the deadly D- Dengue. I hate to be even reminded of it. But even a single flashback of it sends chills down my spine. 

10 days of unbearable pain had me crying like a newborn- wanting to be comforted and fed and comforted again. 

Just as I was discussing this with my family members today, I felt the same pain and agony for a few seconds. For the same duration, the vision of all that occurred during the phase held me hostage and it took a powered effort to drag myself out of the mirage and let the realization of the reality descend. THAT is how draining it was- Even a few seconds of a mere flashback of it caused deep felt horror that haunts me even as I write. A few more hours and I shall have forgotten about it- at least consciously. 

I have known people who have been through worse. I have met prodigies who suffered the worst and yet are doing 'well' as the world perceives them. And it strikes me that it has indeed been wisely said that onscreen can never reflect the offscreen that went into making it. Ultimately, the people who care for you, your dear ones, are the only ones affected. Their prayers transform into your survival. Their tears could have broken you down but it is the love causing them that builds you up. 

Despite the horror of those days, I am alive. And wiser. Stronger than before. Ready to take on certain challenges. To accomplish the targeted. To make those dear and close ones happier. 

So, I proceed. 

Come what may, the rule of life is that it continues. Because whatever may transpire, we acknowledge how important it is to fight back and emerge triumphant. And despite all odds,

We sustain. 

We survive. 

PS: Undergoing a trauma? Fight back. If you give up, nobody is going to care. Get up! Get back! Life is much more than what the naked eyes can see. YOU matter. 

--

Beaming with the aura of myself!

Dedicated to a very special friend who says he looks forward to my posts and that I should write more often. Well, his words are what I look forward to ;) 

I have been writing this blog since college. The followers' list bears testimony to the fact that this place has never had more than 4 readers or even 1 at times. My friends who began writing around the same time have their blogs too that have fetched them 50+ followers. 50 is not a great number for a thing such as "followers' list", but for those down the popularity ladder, it means a lot! :D 

Just as I happened to look my blog up on the web and read a few posts randomly, I asked myself why I never quit writing even when the blog could not achieve the stereotypical 'popularity'; why I found it worthwhile to continue; why I wrote despite the knowledge that there would not be anyone to read it and why I did not choose to maintain a personal diary instead. 

The answer to this was reflected in the blog itself- in the timeline (The list of years indicating the post name and year, found on the right side of the page). I reminisced and the idea of love and productivity struck me. 

The conclusion that is the most apt in my case has been the love for writing and the idea that this love has been the kind that never needed anything but a medium to express itself- which has been very cutely possible through this blog in its own little space. And that is it. The love. Love of doing something. When you love doing something, the love becomes the core driving factor for you to continue doing it. You do not wait for worldly approval, you simply proceed. There is something about love very pure and deep that ascertains the approval from the soul. I found out that my love for writing has been incessant ever since it commenced in the months following my 12th board exams. And that love- pure and deep- has been the reason that I have never stopped writing despite not getting the popularity that is usually desired. And it is this same love that has stayed with me in difficult times. 

The other facet of this love has been the joy of productivity. I realized that among all the years, 2012 was the one in which I wrote the most. 

2012 was the year when I had organized the first ever event of my life as an office bearer of my debating society. Eventually, it also proved to be the year when I won awards for various competitions at the university and college level. I was the happiest that year. Not that the happiness came free- I had worked day and night to achieve certain targets and had managed to face some of the gravest realities of being an exec body member- but the conclusion of each of the 'grave developments' was a serene sense of achievement. And THAT made it beautiful. I made great friends and embraced the idea of sportsmanship deeply. Contrary to this, 2014 has hardly got any posts-one to be exact. It was a turbulent year for me. The turbulence reflects therein. 

Happiness looks for broader accommodation, it inspires humility. When you are happy, you look for ten other people who can know and share it too. You wish to give others the same joy that you have. Better is the pleasure that comes from the sense of being productive, having achieved something, having done something great. That one thing does not look for assurance of there being someone who is 'actually' sharing it or not- you simply proceed with it with the hope that one day there would be one. 

For me personally, the joy of being able to have even one pleased reader is a catalyst (That explains why I loved my friend's words to the core. Those who have read it at times, have further stimulated the process... a big thank you to them! ) 

Sorrow, on the other hand, has often led me to being limited and confined. Melancholy has been meaningful, at times, but not speakable, shareable, ever. That is not to mean that the love for writing goes away- it only becomes dormant, if not incessant. Joy simply rekindles that dormant motivation to mould it into words. 

I feel elated to be able to even think that what goes on in my mind would someday be visible to the eyes. I love the idea of letting my thoughts occupy the digital space-waiting for someone someday to read, cherish and embrace. Meanwhile, the romance with my words keeps me pampered! 

So. Therefore. Hence. In conclusion- my love for sharing, through words, dies never!

PS: Trust me, my friend, your encouragement is invaluable. 

For the love of JNU

Another draft-turned-post from my inbox, just being published today. Also, this was my fb status for the date mentioned. :)
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21.08.2014

The day I published my Convener Report. Exactly Three Years Ago.
Man! I still remember that day when a year of turbulent JNU politics had finally concluded in a peaceful report presentation. Presenting the report only a few days after my 22nd birthday, I was thrilled by the various challenges that a year-long journey had brought me face to face with. A year had seemed no less than a decade. Yet, the realization that all of that had ended finally had brought great relief to my mind. I was still struggling to get out of the 'hangover' of political upheavals faced, but the transformation that had occurred in me was beyond what words can ever describe. And that is why I say that while it is impossible for anyone who learns of JNU through cooked up stories to comprehend the dimensions of its magic, it is only through being here that one realizes how truly special this place can be. Are there challenges? Immense challenges? Undesired elements. YES. Where are they not? JNU has taught me that facing challenges is THE key to solving them. JNU, you are love.

#FourYearOfBeingAtJNU #JNUMeriJaan # OhManIAmAYearOlder