Tuesday, October 17

blogging, deewali and more...

I find it difficult to blog these days. One reason is nothing I write seems beautiful anymore. It all feels very melancholic.

Fellow blogger Shikha says – It doesn’t matter as long as you have something to say.

Anon (doing the rounds of my blog) feels I need to see a shrink.

May be. But would that lead to happy words pouring from my fatigued fingers furiously typing on my dusty laptop.

I doubt.

I have been a melancholic writer for as long as I remember. My first poem was an improvisation of a half heard poem in school.

Billi ne school khola ek
Jisme aye chuhe anek

(Improvisation: with due apologies to whoever wrote the first two lines)

Jab suna yeh kee billi ne
Maaf ke hein fees
Shuroo me legi rupyee bees
Bili ne ek path parhaya
Mooh se lad tapak aya
Jhat ek chuha mooh mein dabaya
Billi roj phat phadati thee
Aur ek chuha mooh mein dabati thee
Aise beet gaye kayee saal
Huee kamyaab billi ke chaal
Chuho ne ab kee bagawat
Khatam hui bile eke aavbhagat
Billi ko to ho gayee jail
Or chuho mein phir se mail

This poem seems to be the only happy poem in my satchel, thanks to the first two lines. I wish I could write like this again. About cats & mices.

On unhappy melancholic writing

Kiran Desai bagged the Man Bookers for “The Inheritance of loss”. I started reading it yesterday. Kiran is part Arundhati, part herself. However, she doesn’t have Arundhati’s in the face “I- do- not-confirm” attitude. She doesnt have her lunatic, intense and nearly fanatic passion .

But ten chapters into the inheritance of loss, my heart broke.

It's sadness permeates like humidity….. it reminded me of mosquito stung evenings at Patna when I stood at the gate waiting for an eventuality.

Mohanty boy….who works with me ….asks “why didn’t a PG Woodhouse ever get a Bookers”? “And check this out …. He moans ...”most Bookers are given to sad novels.”

Mohanty boy is one with these observations on everything. In the middle of meetings these questions erupt to him like rashes.

Have you heard “The Circle Game” by John Mitchell? Oh, you must. “Or have you noticed his white striped trousers?” Sometimes he sets me thinking.

So I try and conjure an answer through my heavy Caprioska washed voice.

Maybe awards have a self imposed righteousness to them. And they look for messages in writing. And I trail off....

Mohanty is busy rolling joints (which he does best) and nods in agreement…. “they would never give Bill Bryson a Bookers.

He is much doped. Marijuana takes over as he dreams a happy Bookers winning dream for Bill Bryson.


It’s again that time of the year when earthen lamps would be washed, soaked in water overnight, wicks cut out, ghee poured into them washed lamps and lit. Warm glow from symmetrically washed diyas emanating hope into a lonely hopeless night.

The aroma of pure fresh ghee is the smell of deewali fighting the stench of love and loss.

Newness fighting oldness.

I read the post I had written last Deewali, it was kind of sad. So if anon is bugged I know why.

Well, Lots of things have changed since then.

o I have my own house and I am out of sharing my space with other people. I have a lovely balcony that I just love.

o Old Man and Wife are getting old. He wanted me to go fetch his cigarettes because he didn’t feel like going (an errand I had always wanted to run but a privilege that was truly forbidden). She has become more tolerant of who I am not.

o I have lots more to read, write, watch and manage at work and off it.

o I have begun to like my own company. Soaking on the futon, reading on the bean bag, dancing by myself to Gulzar’s poetry and staring into space. And I am happy about it.

o And yet….strangely I have this nagging feeling to be someone else….somewhere else….. a freaking feeling like a tire around the waist that refuses to go…


So with all this and more I pack my bags for Deewali…. Destination Goa.

Banjar hein sab banjar hein
Dhoondne jab hum phirdaus chale
Teri khoj talas me dekh piya
Hum kitne kane kos chale


( Song from movie Saathiya)



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7 comments:

shikha said...

1.Firstly, what's your definition of beautiful...from your post i think you mean happy!!

who ever said that what one writes needs to be "beautiful" all the time.

If that was the case, hate poetry would never be so popular.

Nobody would ever watch an "Anand" or movies with too much violence!!

2. A melancholic writer,need not necessarily be a melancholic person and maybe you are the kind who feels like writing about the dark side n r too busy enjoying the brighter one..that's ok i guess!!

3.I truly loved your poem on cat/mouse!!

4.havent read"inheritance of loss."..but if your heart broke half way through, join it again and start reading.

5.Am sure mohanty is quite a delight to be around!!

6. its great that you like you own company..wonder though why would you wanna be someone else!!

and write on babe,one does not write for the world..but for one's own self..as GULZAR has said...

"Main Akela Chala tha, is safar mein..mein chalta gaya aur kafila banta gaya:)

Anuradha said...

Goa! Thats brilliant!
Have a great vacation, a very Happy Diwali, and dont think too much about Booker Prizes, sad endings, and the person you want to "be"! It will all come to you when it has to!

sanjay jha said...

happy dipavali
cheers
have fun...lol.
jhaji.

Anonymous said...

Lady,

Ops dont tell me that you have alreday started missing me so much that your lonely ness is pouring out through your pen.

Goa and all ha - hope no naughtyness involved ;-)

Ajit Chouhan said...

Happy diwali,ID mubarak and Happy Chatth...

Sometimes when you are too conscious of what you are writing this dilemma is obvious. The moment you start thinking of your readers rather than your words which flows as they are, the pause comes naturally.

My sincere suggestion forget the bookers write for yourself and keep writing whatever you feel like and trust me it will be better than what you expect.

Me in Patna :o) so busy with loads of stuff ,will catch up soon. Take care

The One said...

You're tagged- and I am back.

chandan said...

Absolutely loved ur 'happy poem '~))
cute'.

You can never b alone if u like ur own company`