An end to these musings. To these self indulgent convolution of words. This place has never held much meaning for me....or anyone else for that matter. This calls for a change..

Tonight’s post is dedicated to a shelter. Probably the gentlest and strongest person I have known in my life; his life was a constant struggle, battling a disease he was destined to lose against. Yet he kept fighting, showing his normal demeanor to the world and concealing whatever fears he had. It was part of his job to inspire people in order to reach greater heights of their potential. I met him last a week or so before leaving for states. I know that I am always going to regret not giving another visit before leaving, knowing that I will never be able to see him or talk to him in this life again.

I know that I shall always look up at his example; difficult to follow it may be……he is the one person who has probably inspired me the most as a teacher. Uncle Zaeem, you may well be gone to this world but you will always live on in our hearts. I shall always remember you as a shelter you were…..and the way you believed in me when many others would have doubted. You will be sorely missed….

Winds have started shifting in my city. Its the eve of winter and its unlike anything I have witnessed before. My city has exploded in the colors of fall with every tree giving its own distinct hue. Winters are very different here; a world different from the time I used to cherish every moment of.
Back home, winters marked a time of reflection; where the nights were silent, blissful, enlightening. Here, they are weary, desolate and confining. Soon, the trees shall loose their colors and the entire landscape will be painted in white; winds will be biting, testing your every nerve, every sense; and all this will be here to stay. I only wonder now how different it will be from the years past.....

I miss my world tonight……more than I have on usual occasions. I wonder what I have become here and what I will become after my years here. It is strange living like this. You estrange yourself from a former life so you are not restricted by it…….yet you remain connected to it cause it defines you.

Tonight, I feel lost, guilty and alone in an alien place. Part of me wants a glimpse of home……but the other part reasons that I am still not ready for. There is still so much I need to do and become. Someday, I shall return to my former life……..as for now…I shall find my solace in God as I always have. This night shall not pass very easily…….

Here I am again……..with all the usual raves and rants. Two weeks ago, I was wondering how it would feel to finally move away. To finally go to states for my masters….and effectively leave a whole life and world behind. Now that I am here, I realize that not much has changed. I am still the same; feel excited about the same things and remain indifferent to the same set and I still enjoy writing at night…although now in a completely different time zone. If anything, I find myself more focused; more sure and more excited about what I shall be doing in the coming 1.5 year.

Ofcourse I miss home. Miss the life that I had there. But its not something that wears me down or constantly plagues my thoughts. Its just nostalgia; a state that has to be dealt with and something highly important. I believe it shall keep me rooted during my time here; an assurance that I shall remain true to my world and the ideals I proclaim, being a part of it. 

Time travels at a blinding pace here. There is so much to do; so must to say, to understand and feel; and hardly enough time to do any. In the past 10 years or so, I have grown so accustomed to my world and all its aspects. Have taken it for granted on most occasions; assuming that it is going to last a lifetime and that I would always be trapped by it; protected by it. But all this is about to change in a while.

I still find myself almost in denial. Try to carry through all the acts of the day as if this is an unbendable routine. But one dream made it all frighteningly real. Its when I dreamt that I will be leaving on the very next day and it was so frighteningly realistic that it kept me awake for five straight hours.

How do you leave a life behind? I guess the only answer to that is…..you dont! You carry your world with you, treasure it, protect it and remain connected to it. Not just because of its ethical implications. But simply because you need to do so to survive. Everyone argues that my perspectives will change once I go there and that I will not return to my own country after completing my studies. I think, I feel too strongly for my country, my people and my world to remain separated from it for long. 

Tonight I am at the mercy of mixed emotions. It has been a day with high levels of grief, gratitude, anger and a frustration. And at this hour, I honestly fail to put all things in perspective. Just don’t have much strength left in me tonight. I guess I am too tired right now……..to the point of being numb to all sensations. I guess I will think about life tomorrow.

The purpose of this post is to wish happpy birthday to the best friend I could have ever asked for.

Hey, I just realized. Superman is bipartisan. Not sure whether this concept was kept in mind at its inception though. 

Its confusing how intricately involved all strands of life can be. It’s a whole web of circumstances; which when put together, define all possibilities and given occurrences. Like an impossibly complex riddle, beyond the capacity of any mortal. It’s as if every single individual or entity in this world is one variable, independent while being intricately involved with the dynamics of this system. We are all constantly subject to the restrictions of time, space and circumstance; all trying to define our own destinies and pathways. Striving to counter the limitations of our existence and almost always recognizing the impossibility of our efforts. But this struggle defines our role, our place in this universal riddle. Realizing the futility of this struggle is also a realization we are meant to have; in a way to balance ourselves between being fatalistic or assuming full control. It’s a system designed to capture our fantasies and realities, bounding and restricting them to its own defined dogmas. 

So it all comes down to this. All the toil; the research done to strengthen my application; the hours spent on GRE preparation; the whole drama of that unfolded before my TOEFL exam; spending hours in preparing applications and refining personal statements. The outcome of all this would be decided over a 5 minute interview. And all this would account to more or less nothing if I am not able to be convincing in the space of those 5 minutes. I wonder how I feel, or rather should be feeling about the whole scenario. Maybe I should prepare; form countless arguments and counter arguments in my head that may cover any given scenario. But maybe that would be wrong. I do not know where it would get me, but I hope to be honest above all else. I have done all the preparation I need. I have worked a whole year in the preparation for this. And now, it’s only the final sprint……which in my opinion should be instinctive. I leave it to God’s designs….. 

The air has started getting cooler now. It has become much more forgiving in its nature; much more open. You can almost feel the anticipation of winter. Sort of like a slight calmness in the general outlook of things; a sort of sluggishness which can only be associated with extreme summer or the eve of winter. As for me; I cant wait to live again in the silent nights, strolling and dreaming while being curiously aware of every sound within a block’s distance. 

So……another night gone by. After tossing restlessly for hours I decided to call it quits and forego the whole idea of sleeping. Haven’t had to deal with insomnia for a while now. And I have a gut feeling that its back to plague my nights again.
After two and a half hours of watching US open live scores, for the evasive chance of cheering for my country in tennis; sneaking downstairs for watching US open hoping that they would be showing Aisam’s match; finding out that they arnt and shifting between the rest of the matches and ‘Tehzeeb’; getting tired of the television and resorting to my room……………..; I am finally back ranting the night away on a medium that probably no one chooses to read. But who cares about all that. Writing all this down helps me put my thoughts together. And I still don’t see any sleep coming tonight.

I wonder today:

• About what God thinks of me; knowing that nothing of mine is hidden to Him.
• About how many people think good of me and how many think nothing but ill; and to how many more am I not important enough to matter.
• About what the next year holds for me; and whether I will get out of it what I have yearned for.
• About how many times I have deceived myself; while justifying things by my self contained logic and moral system.
• About whether I have become a slave of an image I have in my mind or have really remained true to myself.
• About how difficult I can be.
• About whether I will remain an idealist ten years from now and still follow my dreams.

I think of all these things and many more on this regular summer night.

As he kept gazing into the horizon on the usual autumn sky; he felt his senses numbed by stillness. It was nearly dark, the far skyline giving a shade of crimson, giving evidence of the place the sun had set alter a day’s journey. This sight was not new to him. He would usually turn to this place in an attempt to escape his life. Its very isolation gave him a sense of seclusion so absolute that for the hour he spent there, his whole world seemed to drift away into a distant memory. There was only him, the leaves rustling in the late evening breeze and the setting sun.

Part of him wanted to write whatever he felt, to draw all this down on a canvas; so that he could share this image with the world. But he feared whether he would do justice to this moment and this place. The world never understood these things now. It was so intricately involved in its facile pursuits of wealth, fame and comfort that it had lost the ability to imagine. In a world that was so profoundly deluded, expressing his dreams and what this reality meant would be to taint their image.

Deep inside, he knew that the world would never understand him. That he would be turned into an outcast and be forced to live a life of solitude and pain. But all that did not matter now. For, he also knew that the sun would always be there and he would have sunsets. This life was not for him; you could tell that merely by the distant sad look in his eyes or his overly animated motions. He felt too much for anything……everything to be at peace with his life and be accepted.
But for these few moments before dusk, he did not wish to plague himself with all that. At this hour, he would pretend to float through time and space to a distant dream…..his own utopia. While existing in all the remaining hours of the day, he would live for an hour by these crimson sunsets.

Last few days have been remarkable in my city. With strong winds blowing almost all through the day; we have been having a rare lapse from the usual hot and humid air. I have grown to love this city for this and how fast and drastically it can change. Even after knowing and loving it for 12 long years, it can still surprise on its given day.
It has been one of the more serene nights I have had of late. Marked with drifting silences and occasional flashes of thunder; the breeze blowing incessantly……..rustling through everything and stuffing dust into the smallest crannies; its been a night close to the bare originality of things without any adulteration.
While most would find a thunderstorm thoroughly intimidating; it has brought me feelings of awe, wonderment and mirth for as long as I can remember. I have found myself oddly reflective, perceptive and closer to my faith on such occasions; have felt my emotions shift with the weather; being as fickle as the winds of my city and likewise, always full of pleasant surprises.

He wishes for the cloths of heaven

It is interesting what a movie like "equilibrium" can give you. Came across these words for the first time years ago. Even now, they strike me as ever.

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)"He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven"

My dreams mean a lot to me. Much more than what wealth and riches this world has to offer. In that sense, these words seem almost paradoxical. For how could you surrender your dreams to any individual? If love has such a force, then it is love which forces one to dream out of hope; making an individual a part of your dreams and fantasies. But, I may be misinterpreting these words. For, you can only surrender your dreams to a person who is an exact personification of them.

Shades and Shadows

Shadows flow in an incessant cycle
Making their mark on swallowed streams
Of life, of fate and all that trifle
Such entwined are our shadows and dreams

Shadows of past, of fears and fate
As the darkest night at its grimmest hour
Lighted worlds of fantasies and faith
As the silver sunshine at its brightest hour

Such is life in all its hours
Sunshine and noxes, shades and shadows
While truth is obscured in uncertain hours
We yearn to perceive its hides and halos

For such is life in all its hours
Variegated streams of shades and shadows

My Shelter

Its May 11th…..day which has been officially dedicated to celebrating motherhood. So it is only justified that I start on this particular note.
My relationship with my mom has been unusual in some respects and similar in many others. Being the only daughter with 4 sibling brothers; she had always wanted a daughter. A yearning that I am assuming she must have had since long. However, that is something that still remains a longing to this day. Being the youngest son, I can imagine how greatly she would have wanted a daughter when I was born. And I would not hide the fact that she did have some degree of disappointment. She had always wanted a female companion…….but for some reason, God had separate designs.
I remember being taught by my mom in my early years. A routine which continued till I was in grade three. And right from those early years, she has been the only person I am comfortable complaining to. I don’t have to wear my mask when I am around her; for I always knew that it would be of no good. Even though, I may not confide in her all the time, or share with her every single aspect of my life, its almost scary how she has always been able to understand and predict me on a consistent basis. I guess the only thing I can attribute this understanding to is that I was once a part of her. So understanding me would mostly be like understanding herself.
I don’t have to talk to her when I am weak or distressed. All I have to do is lie on her lap or sit with her for a while. And, even though she knows that something is bothering me, she would mostly not question and pester me on such occasions. Over time, she has learnt to respect the fact that I often need to resolve things on my own and that has been the reason for the comfort level I have with her. One that I do not share with anyone else in my family.
With time I have also learnt to compensate for a daughter in some ways. Over years, I have substituted for various activities such as oiling and combing her hair, massaging her head etc………..activities that would normally be associated to daughters. So, no matter how this relationship started……..I can safely say that she loves me most amongst all my siblings. Although she would never agree to that………I know that as a fact.
At present, I can almost speak to her on equal terms. We would discuss all kinds of matters…….as if I were talking to sibling or a friend. She has always been very easy to reason with and this aspect also contributes to her indispensable position in my life. A shelter……solace…….and an untainted image of all I would use to define and exemplify a mother……….that is what my mother has been to me. I may never speak all these words to her……but that is only because I don’t have to. Words can never do justice to the place she has in my life.