A View From The Top

आसमान की बुलंदी पे

बनाया हमने अपना आशियाँ

कुछ दरवाज़े कुछ खिड़कियाँ

ईंट पत्थर का हमारा मकां

फिर पूछा हमने अपने साए से

क्या खोया क्या पाया इस राह पे

Yesterday I visited the most posh residentials towers under construction in Mumbai. The tallest for sure and superbly luxurious. This was a work related visit. The person I met showed me a computer generated image of the building and was very proud to show me the location of the penthouse. My eyebrows disappeared to my head when he casually mentioned the price range. On my way back from the meeting I was wondering, how many property owners in this tower will stand in their luxurious super expensive flat and say to themselves, I deserve it and I have done no wrong to get here. The percentage of such people in my mind is quite small. Probably a single digit figure. And then a second thought occurred, no matter if you stay on the 55th floor or the pent house, you still have to go to the basement to get your car and then you have to share the same road as the rest of us and you still have to drive past shanties to get to the airport and you still share the same sunlight and the same air and ultimately, you too will die and leave behind a very expensive property and lets hope you die a happy person. That last bit is as important as the happiness of being able to afford a property like this.

I was happy to see this building. To me it represents the eternal human struggle to rise. Well in this case it takes 41 elevators to get there.

I was happy to see this project. Maybe I was just happy to see ambition. Somebody's thought translated to reality. Just the building itself as if saying to god, I am here. I was not awed by the wealth. It was something else that attracted me. I think it was the power of ambition. In that one moment I was not aware of the snob value of that place or the arrogance of the owners. Nothing. All I saw was mans struggle to be more than he is.

Random Thoughts

The world is full of endless possibilities. Whether I am able to see these possibilities depends on how I am using my heart and my head. There are things like hope and faith that modern science would at best try to link with certain chemicals produced by the body to fight whatever it is faced with.

All of the best things of God are free and within reach to everyone. And yet we concentrate on those that remain outside our grasp. When the mind is still, the most troublesome of questions are the most simple ones. Am I happy today? What is my fear now? Why am I sad? And then the mother of all of them - What do I want? Sometimes it takes me days and a lot of silence to get answers. I have come to realise that fear is my biggest enemy. It has in past deprived me of the joy of hope and faith and unlimited happiness. Whenever I have conquered fear I have felt in control and have sensed life as an adventure. But then there are bad days too when the world at large is grey and hopeless. Reading newspapers today can be very depressing but it doesn't have to be. I believe there is always a way to handle anything, I just need to find it.

I have a few goals and whenever I get lost in my plans to achieve them, I find myself excited like a kid on his birthday, the hair on my arm stand on ends, my voice trembles. I will inshallah achieve those goals. I know it. But there is one sure shot way of not getting there. That road is called fear of the unknown.

आउट ऑफ़ माई माइंड

एक ख़ामोशी की तलाश में चले जा रहे हैं हम
कभी अपने साथ कभी अकेले
कुछ नए से रस्ते
कुछ साथी पुराने

The mind is never still. Never quiet. I take deep breaths to make it still. Close my eyes and stay alert to the breath that enters my nose and leaves the same way. Seconds tick by. The eyes remain closed. My mind is an expert in drawing up images behind closed eyes. Realization of dreaming brings me back to my task of observing my own breath. Admonishing my clever mind to not think.
Its so hard... to not think. And so peaceful when I do so even if that state remains for few minutes. A blank mind that is aware of nothing but the body it occupies. That for me is bliss. The universe within is beautiful but seldom visited.
Being lonely and being alone are two very different things. I am with myself so much that I don't miss being alone. Yes I feel lonely in my own company sometimes. But such is life. And its beautiful.
Life is rich in experience. Time and years, thoughts and feelings, places, god and much more.
Even though I have an occupation, I am thinking that it should not be my identity. I am much more than what I do. Judgement, the fallacy of the human lot. We so often are quick to judge. An ability to accept without judgement is something that I struggle with and often fail. Someone who may not be making too much money, someone who doesn't have the best job on earth, someone who has so and so caste, religion. All these are boxes where we want to shove the people we meet. I hope I learn to consistently accept without judgement. Accept that which I do not like.

What a beautiful ride is Love.
Takes you where ever you choose to go.

Saree Shopping

Shopping! The most tiresome thing on earth probably after delivering a baby... but then what do I know about that! But not everyone views shopping like that. For instance some members of my family. The only thing that interested me was the fact that I was going shopping for me! Unlike S and Mom who are always excited to go out and spend hours sifting through stuff in shop after shop. The fun starts even before we reach the marketplace. Mom announces in the car while travelling that we should not roll our eyes or make stupid noises at her wish to see a few shops before we finally select something. I have come to realise the merit of this activity but gaawd! it is tiring. The first place we visited was a saree shop. she promptly reminded us that there are other famous shops in the vicinity and we were to remember that before we made a purchase. Its amazing how these guys build elevators in a two floor shop. Jesus! A little exercise won't kill anybody esp the woman who is planning to drape the saree. Our attempt to take the stairs was aborted when the lift man who wanted earn his salary said that sarees are on floor two and not one. That was enough to change mom's mind. We were ushered into a quiet chilled room with white mattresses. And the show was finally on. Out came reams and reams of silk, jute weave, gorget with resham threads, kashmiri thread work, woven jute with silk and an exceptional array of colors. We lost our hearts several times. Its amazing when we love a saree and can't hide it. The shop keeper carries that instinct. The royal bastards know exactly what to say. "Madam, yeh aappar bahut jachegi", "yeh dekhiye, yeh kaam aur yeh color scheme apko kahin nahi milega". All my MBA smartness went for a toss. S & I stared at the golden rivers of shimmering silk with "suckers" written large on our foreheads in bold and underlined font. Mom is an old player at this. You won't know until the end what she is going to put her hand on. Shortlisting and finally selection. Somewhere in all this three cups of coffee/ tea were offered which were declined. But somehow I found myself and S sipping Pepsi. Once we had made our choice clear, we then were taken back two floors down in the elevator of course and the wallet got a lot lighter than it was when we arrived!

I could breathe fresh air once again when we got out! As a child I abhorred saree shops since mom used to disappear in them for hours. Dad would sometimes find the patience to sit through and at others he would stand outside gulping fresh air. I think going forward I too might end up spending hours in such places for I do love this typically Indian garment we call the saree. They say it brings the woman out in you!

I Am Atlas

No result is ever final. A beginning happened years ago and it continues. To say this is it is equivalent to death, the giving up of hope. Sometimes inner conflict and turmoil brings about a churning that destroys whats exists to make room for the new. To know that you are in the middle of a churning is not comforting. The uncertainty of an unclear future, projection of self is futile for I do not know the events that are yet to emerge. I am aware of some events of past; not all, even though they have bearing on me as I am today. Each man for himself. I am who I think of myself to be. The rest is unnecessary detail. I break to a million pieces to be new again. I will break again to be something else in future. I am alone for there is room for only one. You can color me but my colors are my own, you may vary my shade but I will still be me and not you. You are unique too but I am not aware of you as I am of myself. I strain to hear the music in my breath. The night talks to me of strange things. I am afraid of dark even today. I have been travelling and its been eventful. The magic and adventure has been replaced and I struggle with its loss. A sense of wonder still prevails. For some time I have managed to cut loose and stray aloof in some obscure direction, even willingly delusional I think. Like intoxication of some kind, showing me glimpses of what does not exist. I write in order to talk - to myself. I am atlas.

To Ishrat Jahan

There are not too many things that move me. There was a time when I would often sniff while reading a novel or some work of fiction on a quiet afternoon. Now the afternoons aren’t quiet. They pass by in a dizzying blur. But then that’s not the point here. I was surprised at myself when reading current affairs brought a sudden sob. It was grossly inconvenient to express those feeling as I was alone and travelling on an airplane.

I was reading the sad tale of Ishrat Jahan’s family. Mr Modi’s state machinery targeted them instead of being their protectors as per forensic reports as submitted in Justice Tamang’s report. How must it feel for a poor woman with so many young children to stand up to the mighty Mr Modi and his corrupt police force. What kind of courage would that have required? Just when my feelings were brimming I happened to look out the plane window and saw the beautiful horizon a great distance away and I felt God’s presence. What troubled me was that he seemed as far away as that horizon. That moment was intensely personal between me and my God.

I was painfully reminded of how God can put you on a spot and challenge you to use a resource you thought you never had – Courage, which brings me to another thought. Power is difficult to handle for mortals like us. The usual laws of too little or too much are not applicable to power. Power corrupts. Simple. Maybe Mr Modi and his police force believe that they are one step ahead of the law. Maybe they are. But there is another court waiting for them. Universe has a system of balancing out things. What would it take to balance the power Mr Modi carries? Loss of Votes, court cases.. and what have you.

I hope Ishrat Jahan’s mother and siblings find justice and peace.