Abandonment

tho’ coldness enshrouds existence
orisons echo only to nothingness
designs muffle in mere voids
this begins the dawn of freedom
breaks the aurora of hope
to probe thy boundless prowess
in the face of nihility, amid the bleak dimness
you being the focus of noesis
belie the bounds, transcend the confines
define thy aim, subdue the claim
seek the reason within thee
unleash the ken surrounding thee
conquer the world fencing thee!

Of Cinema, Cartoons and Classics

My ardent love for Cinema and cartoons is as old as my love for books, or adventure, or solitude, or chocolates and ice-creams, that is, it’s deeply ingrained within me since ever. I vividly recall the countless evenings spent with The Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy, Oliver Twist, Tom n Jerry, Bugs Bunny and the list is actually infinite. I and my siblings used to imitate the cartoons characters and to cite one such imitation, I was Theodore while my elder sisters were Alvin and Simon. We used to sacrifice the cool air-conditioned environment of the sleeping-room and slip out in the scorching summers of Bahrain just to watch the cartoons.

Eventually, as time passed, my love for Cinema and Cartoons only intensified. While I kept loving and cherishing the timeless Bugs Bunny and Tom n Jerry, the cinematic craze shifted towards more serious aspects. Not that I ceased to enjoy comedies; quite the contrary: I enjoyed them all the more, only the aesthetics of cinema gripped my attention and stiffened it with time. Of course I started with the usual thriller and horror stuff but eventually and inevitably got tired of them and it was in my late teens, during the college, that I started moving back in time, towards the classics and in the recent years particularly, I’ve turned into something that friends call a ghost from the past, thanks to my passionate love for the golden classics from olden days.

If the chords of my memory serve me right, the first true classic that I savored was the timeless masterpiece Gone With The Wind, and it left me mesmerized for several days. Thence commenced my passion for the classics which with time only enhanced beyond bounds. December 2005 introduced me with The Godfather phenomenon, triggering the Pacino-fanaticism, which actually persists to the day. I watched the movies of Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro, indulged in heated debates on the movie forums comparing and discussing their mastery over the art of cinema and started a movie blog. During the process, I made acquaintances that shared my craze for cinema and learned to appreciate the artistic intricacies of direction. Marlon Brando’s work during the 50s was an eloquent testimony of his being one of the undisputed Kings of his art. In the ocean of direction, the genius of Stanley Kubrick left me astounded and his 2001: A Space Odyssey drove me into philosophical mood for quite some time. Hitchcock-ean twisted thrillers satisfied the enigmatic tastes while Scorsese’s psychological masterpieces proved to be one of their kind. Leon and Ford’s Westerns quenched the romantically adventurous side of Self.

After this post-70s era I dived into the golden era of Hollywood, and this dive was worth priceless gems and everlasting treasures. Citizen Kane, Casablanca, GWTW, The Philadelphia Story, It’s A Wonderful Life, Grapes of Wrath and many other classics are meant to leave everlasting impact on you. Cary Grant, Humphrey Humphrey Bogart and James Stewart were the very epitome of a true movie star with all their classical sophistication while Katharine Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman and Audrey Hepburn were the divine sprites of beauty and artistic breath. The Philadelphia Story and Bringing Up Baby are two of my favorite romantic comedies of all time. Katharine Hepburn, the name that simply transcends all praise. With the passage of time, I’ve found myself compelled to agree with the notion that the Golden Era was indeed matchless.

Eventually, I turned me attention towards the European cinema and the first thing that hit me left me dumbfounded: the genius known as Ingrmar Bergman. No words can explain the artistic and cinematic genius of Bergman and no movies have surpassed him in dealing the subjects he masterfully portrayed in his movies. The Seventh Seal and Winter Light are the movies that get into your head and you find yourself hurled into the Bergman’s world, living as it’s anguished characters, facing the same conditions and crisis. Persona caused psychological convulsions, and if you ask me at present, Bergman is my favorite director without a second though. This journey into European cinema, which would eventually take the turn towards the Asian cinema, continues to quench the literary, aesthetic and philosophical thirst.

All I can hope is to one day deliver – even one true masterpiece would suffice – like these giants of cinema, the most exquisite form of art.

On The Importance Of Spectacles.

There are these fancy spectacles of all shapes and colors; but I won’t be wasting my time honoring their faithfulness and lauding their utility. I’d like to dedicate my time and attention to the beloved spectacles that have proved to be my faithful companion for the last twenty-one months, through every thick and thin, even though there have been several incidents that attempted to undermine our solemn relationship. This is the longest era of persistence that we’ve abided, ever since the day nature decreed my wearing glasses – that was 6th of March, 2000. I do remember the exact date because that was the day when I was denied an admission in PAF college Sarghoda on the basis of weak eye-sight, after having passed written test, medical examination and as an inner acquaintance of father informed, the interview too. Turned out that the required eye-sight was 6/6, while my shortsightedness had degenerated to 6/36. I never took it much seriously as I myself wasn’t much interested in becoming a part of PAF; the only thing that grieved me was that dad was hurt. Throughout my adult life, I’d done that several times; unintentionally hurting him when actually I tried to afford some felicity. But anyways, ifs and buts are quite a disturbing part of history and it’s dreadful consuming yourself with them.

So the first few months proved to be a two-fold escapade. One one hand, I had to adjust myself with this new peril enshrouding my nose and ears, and on the other, I had to constantly avoid momentary lapses to keep this peril intact. The first venture, I undertook quite efficiently, but the second one proved to fatal, considering my horrendously careless nature. To cite a classic case, once I just yawned myself into the door – now that was quite careless and I couldn’t figure out where the door emerged from all of a sudden – but the end result was that the glasses were gone.

Eventually, the dust of the adventures settled down and I gradually came to terms with the inevitable ordeal. Time passed quite smoothly with the glasses for a while until the advent of the little devil nephews of mine. Among other loots, their favorite plunder are my poor spectacles, and they have this knack of snatching the glasses off my face with the swiftness of light and firmness of a little leopard. At one moment, they are the very epitome of innocence and tranquility while at the very next instant, they can turn out to be the demon despoilers, and the victim, as usual, happen to be my poor glasses. These hostile relations continue to exist between the cute fiends and the glasses to this day, and even though I’m always attempting my profoundest efforts to tilt the balance of survival in the favor of the usual victim, I mostly find myself at my wits end. The little jollies are just naturally too good at their expertise.

Once you get entangled in this web, or shall I say glass, of spectacles, there’s only one way to see the world; through the magnifying lens. The world viewed without them would be something like melted colors on a canvas, with the images fluxed into each other. There’s no black or white, only the floating shades of grayish existence. You take a walk down the street and can’t really recognize a person until he is head-on with you, without slightly realizing your constant staring. The most adventurous, or rather a mis-adventurous episode forms while driving a car. You’re driving a car on a country-side highway on a smooth summer evening when all of a sudden, you realize that another vehicle is also in your lane. This alarms you, but what actually appalls you is the realization that no only that, it’s coming towards you! Being out of your glasses and now quite out of your wits, you straight away pull the car over to the road-side, this time not realizing the tree in your way.

So as it turns out, throughout the years, those little glasses sitting your nose and gripping your ears, are either a great friend you’re blessed with or a grave misery inflicted upon you – anyway you put it, or rather feel it.

(to be continued)

Justification.

It was an unusually beautiful night. One of those rare summer nights that enshroud you in their dreamy coolness, entwined with the mystic luminance of the moon .The infinite canvas of sky was repleted with lustrous stars, twinkling blissfully. He could feel the euphoric lightness of transcendence. The impeccable silence of the night was pierced every now and then by the howling of a distant dog. Earlier that night, he went to one of the finest restaurants of the town and had his favorite meal, after which he listened to opera for an hour.

An exhilarating experience.

On his way to the village resort, he constantly tried to keep his mind devoid of any thoughts pertaining to his recent past, giving way to golden memories of nostalgic olden days. The brick-road welcomed him like an old guardian and the smell of the dust drew a satisfied yet melancholy smile on his pale face. He halted by his childhood friend, the great age old oak tree. And the crystal water flowing in the stream nearby, where during his childhood days, he along with his mates, used to romp and observe the tadpoles for hours. Time was within their grasp.

As they grew up, time avenged.

He patted the stem of the oak gently, then bent forward a little and with tears in his eyes, kissed it, and mumbled a few words. The midnight wind blowing through the leaves, that sounded like sweet symphony a few moments ago, now mournfully wailed . He examined his pocket, slipped out a pistol from it, pondered for a few fleeting moments, and then with almost a jolt, placed it on his head and pulled the trigger.

Contradiction? Justification? You can’t ask for it from an absurdist.

Scatterbrain.

“Can you believe this?”

“What’s so unbelievable about this?”

“Can’t say for sure. My mind is scattered. I Can’t concentrate on anything for the time being.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Don’t know. I want to run and run and run. I guess this sloth within me is consuming me.”

“And then what?”

“Then what? I’m going to sleep for hours and hours and hours”

“Escaping reality?”

“Yeah, escaping reality. That would be escaping nothing.”

“Let it out, whatever it is.”

“I can’t find the passage to let it out. It might erupt in some violent accident someday. Momentary impulses. I try and try and try but all in vain. Why do you think is so? ”

“That’s a difficult question.”

“That’s because we always evade this question. That’s because this question is the bleak path to bright freedom. See? I’m again getting lost!”

“darn it!”

“I tell you, I won’t give up, what come may. I’m going to find a way out of this hell. This forced dependence would some day yield ultimate independence, I tell you. And I’m not going to die trying. I am, and I repeat, I am going to find a way out!”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I need to break the shackles to get some clarity of though. Clear off the mist then, and finally start the process of creation.”

“A long way that, isn’t it?”

“There’s no short way to freedom, is there?”

“Maybe you are right. I hope you are right. And I hope you finally find some peace and solace.”

“Peace. Yeah, peace of self and solace for ego. I can’t let it down. I simply won’t. I’ll choose it over petty contentment. There I go again!”

“ah..”

“damn!”

The Road Not Taken…

(A beautiful poem by Robert Frost about recognizing the right choice)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The intention wasn’t really inspirational, but it does provide some.

Moments

“Love the moment. Flowers grow out of dark moments. Therefore, each moment is vital. It affects the whole. Life is a succession of such moments and to live each, is to succeed.”
-Corita Kent(1918-1986)
Life indeed is a strange collection of moments – happy moments and sad moments, crucial moments and trivial moments, agitating moments and serene moments. Out of this vast collection of moments, a few moments are destined to be everlasting. There are happy moments that wander forever in the corridors of our mind and the labyrinths of our memory. These moments become a consolation in out bleakest instances and hardest times. They assure us of a bright sunny day of hope and success after the dark and dreary night of despair and disappointment. Such moments have the distinguished trait to bring unintentional smile on our face when life seems too much to bear.

These moments are the prosthetic for the amputated spirits and exhausted and wretched souls. They afford us an escapist-ic illusion from the harsh realities and troubles of the present. The memories of these precious moments urge us to continue our struggle for better amidst the countless obstacles and phantoms of discouragement and distress. Best friends of our lonely moments, we can feel their fragrance in our solitude .

These are the golden moments that are the best asset for humans, truly worth cherishing. Seemingly a few infinitesimal intervals of time, these sublime moments are far more profounder than the entire remaining normality and monotony of life. The only thing we need is to remember and commemorate these moments and never to let their memory die down in the con game of this world, for there are times when such moments become the very reason of living.

Garden Of Eden

It was a late March morning and I had risen earlier then was my wont and apparently it was impossible for me to continue with my usual accursed lethargy. Something primitive and overwhelming was pulling the strings of my soul out there. I came out into the wild beauty of the wheat-fields and surrounding lush-green trees. Heaven was filled with dark clouds and rain was due any time. Cool and infatuating breeze of early morning was aromatizing the vivid colours under the influence of which, the wheat crop flowed like a river of gold. I stretched out my hand and felt this burning gold and absorbed it’s intoxicating fragrance. For a few everlasting moments, everything surrounding me transformed from ordinary mundane existence into a sublime glow. Terrestrial being was experiencing a heavenly joy and subject was in contact with the sacred. Nature stood unleashed and I could feel her stainless and exuberant beauty at it’s zenith. The brick-road leading to the mango orchard depicted the scene of the romantic road to the mysterious East. I had found my Garden of Eden.

Someday….

Someday – when I would be free from the exertions and vexations of life, when there won’t be any anxieties about my future and concerns about my career….when the thirst for knowledge and the lust for power would die down….when the desire for better future and greed for more wealth would fade away.…when everyone’s hopes associated with me would be fulfilled….when life would be transformed from the perpetual ebb and flow of sea to the serenity and calmness of lake within a valley….and when internal yearning and mental turmoil for perfection would give up….I would sit under the warm sunny blue sky and think about you….only about you!