Dark Room

Take me into a dark room
A room so dark
Darker than the absence of light
Where there’s no sun or moon
But only air to survive
Like an earthworm

A subterranean survival

I shut my eyes tight
So tight, the temples throb
Yet the light passes through
And I can see my veins
Swaying on the tunes of
Carroty carols

The throbbing rises
I wish the hymns stop
And the blackout envelopes
Everything under the sun

And then there will be
No sun
No moon
No light.

Mohini is here, but where is Maya?

While watching TV after a scrumptious dinner last night, the latest ad for Olay Regenerist starring Madhuri Dixit popped up on the screen. Mom very nonchalantly muttered, “She looks like Madhuri”, and I, like a typical daughter, replied, “Oh Mom, that’s because she is Madhuri!”

We laughed over it, but it made me think of how sometimes some things make us think exactly opposite of what they want us to think, and how it can create a domino effect.

A few months ago, the mesmerising Madhuri flied back to her karma bhoomi for good.

While the family was busy finding school for kids, and hubby hunting for a job, Mrs. Nene was snowed under countless offers and invitations from filmmakers, TV channels, socialites and the likes. In such situation, how will the brands lag behind in the race? Soon, Madhuri became an official brand ambassador of Olay’s new line of products called Regenerist.

Olay is a brand known for skin rejuvenating products for females who have just entered their forties, but are struggling their own little way to be in twenties. Celebs like Sushmita Sen, Kajol, Shilpa and Carrie Underwood have complemented the brand’s image time and again (please ignore a few exceptions like Kim Sharma). But, this is no exception. There wouldn’t have been a better choice than Madhuri.

She is over 40 – check

She is an internationally known face – check

She is beautiful – CHECK CHECK CHECK!

Just like for any successful recipe, all the ingredients were perfectly put in order. Fortunately, we had expert cooks too.

But then, what went so wrong that it made Madhuri look like a girl-that-looks-like-Madhuri?

Check it out for yourself:



No brownie points for correct answers – it was a sheer lack of naturalness.

Our darling Mohini is known for her genuineness more than her glamour. Her girl-next-door charm entices every girl to dreamily say, ‘Main Madhuri banana Chahti hoon’. Her poised eyes, capacious tresses, gracious moves, and extremely beaming smile create a celestial aura around her.

But unfortunately, this aura is eclipsed in this advert. Reason – perhaps the extra-heavy make-up that in the quest to cover the fine lines, plastered the glow too.

Madhuri dear, you just don’t look yourself in that very cosmetic take on your beauty.

Sweetheart, you know more about beauty than us (your fans), as you, yourself, are the epitome of beauty.

But please, don’t let the stylist make all the choices for you. Our dhak-dhak girl is still as hot and ravishing as she was in her sexy mustard backless blouse and ultra-mod saree.

Just remember one thing -

Bhool jao ke yahan pe koi baitha hai, bhool jao ke yahan pe music baj raha hai, bhool jao ke yahan pe koi rehearsal chal raha hai. ...

Just be yourself, and you’ll again find the Maya in you!

J

Land Gold Women – Zan Zar Zameen

Before I begin with the main post, let me make it clear that this is not a film review, nor is it a critical evaluation or analysis of any sort. This is a bunch of feelings and thoughts that aroused in my heart and mind, after watching this film.

Land Gold Women, a much acclaimed film directed by Avantika Hari, and produced by Vivek Agrawal revolves around a story of a family that is caught between their traditions and values on one side and modern thoughts on another.

On the surface, it’s a film about the age-old conflict of old and new, of past and present, of elder ones and young ones, but the film was about much more than all this.

Have you heard about Honour Killing? Are you fully aware of what it is?

This film exposed this very evil in disguise.

Wikipedia plainly puts honour killing as “the homicide of a member of a family or social group by other members, due to the belief of the perpetrators that the victim has brought dishonour upon the family or community.”

But appallingly, it’s not as simple as that, and that’s where LGW comes into picture.

Through the fragments of flashback of Saira and her father, Nasir’s story and Nasir’s ghastly confessions in a frosty voice during his detention, the film rips apart this vile.

This is one film where you can’t sit back, relax and watch the story flowing; neither can you focus on the technical nitty-gritty that you usually don’t overlook being a media person.

In fact, it’s very difficult to concentrate on the film itself. Your mind automatically starts getting infringed with disturbing thoughts. You can’t sit there without questioning yourself, questioning the system, questioning the fate, questioning the faith.

A friend was shocked to know that the punishment for such gory offence is just 15 to 20 years. In fact, I suppose that was what Avantika too was upset about. But, I just couldn’t think straight after watching the film. While the end credits were rolling, my mind was trying to wriggle out of the numbness.

All I was thinking after watching LGW is how Saira, who represented every girl next-door, met such a turbulent end. Every second girl could relate to her (me being no exception). She had not even an ounce of doubt about her trust towards her father, and his love towards her. God forbid, if more girls start meeting their end like Saira, the world will have no faith in the strength of words like love and trust.


I reached home with muddled thoughts and slept, hoping that there won’t be any other Saira in this world.

Tute Sapne

सपनों को टुटते हुए देखा है हमने,

शायद इसीलिए कुछ खोने का डर नहीं लगता...

खोया तो खोएंगे मायुसी अब हम,

टुटे सपनों को जुड़ते वक़्त नहीं लगता...

Thought Sisters

Have you ever felt that you share exactly the same thoughts with somebody you don’t even know in person?

I did.

It may not be a very thought-provoking thought. A thought as simple as reading book while travelling is far better than dozing off to kill time (especially when we are travelling through the same old mundane urban roads) or as crazy as a few drops of spilled water is like a huge swimming pool for ants.

Whenever someone expresses or shares something that seems like a photo copy of my thoughts, I go through a weird roller coaster ride of emotions. I feel surprised, happy, awestruck, confused and introspective – all at one time.

And this is exactly what I felt when I read Sunday’s EYE – a weekly mag that comes with Indian Express. Nonita Kalra, the IE columnist and editor-in-chief of Elle India pounced on the reality shows of the day in her feature, ‘The Ugly Story’.

Now you must be thinking, today 99.99% of the population raves about the reality ruckus in some way or the other. What’s the big deal!

But, there is a big deal!

While talking about how reality TV is becoming like a road kill, she talked about a few shows most talked about – Big Boss (no other show has guts to overcome this one when it comes to being a mollycoddle of controversy), Top Chef, Hell’s Kitchen and Keeping up with the Kadarshians. She also debunked the ‘tribe of actors who spend their lives going from one reality show to another’, and how hysteria becomes inseparable like a pathetic endoparasite thriving on internal organs of the host creature.

But, in the midst of all these accusations and criticisms, one thing she wrote really made me feel like we are thought-sisters.

In her writing, she very beautifully appreciated the MasterChef Australia – my personal favourite reality show of the hour, despite of me not being a cooking-lover!

If given a chance to meet Ms. Kalra, all I would like to say is, “I agree with every single thought, ever single word, every single alphabet you wrote about the show. Here’s a toast for our Siamese-twins-like trains of thoughts running on parallel tracks!”

:)

'Why' the street turned red?

While striding those stranger lanes,
She once again bumped into familiar thoughts
Stood face to face with the person
Who always started the conversation with ‘why?’

But this time, she was the one who asked him 'why?'
Why he has to always hover around her
Haunt her thoughts, and intrude her dreams
Why he has to ask ‘why?’
When she knew there were no answers to his questions

Or if there were any, they were all full of pain
She refused to answer such questions
Sweeping everything under the carpet
She has learnt to survive with that plastic face

Her almond eyes learnt the art of expressing the reverse
Her flaky cheeks were trained to blush on prosaic instants
Her dry lips, coated with thick layer of gloss were pro
For smiling and kissing on those unknown cheeks

She wondered and pondered and stared at those whys
And in return got a sharp look that pierced through her eyes
Straight to her heart
And then,

The lampposts saw the street turning red
As droplets of blood dribbled out of her wounded heart

Give India, A Sincere Request to You!

Dear Sir / Madam,

At the outset, let me congratulate you for the immense amount of good work that your organisation, Give India, has been doing since decades and standing for various causes that plague our society. Your NGO is a great source of inspiration for youth like us, and perhaps, that’s why a lot of youth today is volunteering to contribute towards the betterment of the society.

Recently, I got to know that you have got associated with the upcoming La Tomatina Mumbai festival, happening in Mumbai, India, and I was completely taken aback.

Before making comment on it, I did my petty research on this most famous festival of Spain. Thanks to the latest Bollywood blockbuster, I knew that it is a festival held in Valencian town of Buñol, in which participants hurl tomatoes at each other (and that, it is a perfect place to find some sizzling beauties getting completely drenched in the red muck)


But how did this fest originate?

It was during 1945 that a set of young men wanted to join gigantes y cabezudos (Giants and Big-Heads), a parade of costumed figurines, but couldn’t do so. They ended up in a brawl, and started throwing tomatoes from a nearby stand. The fight was solved by the police, but the very next year youngsters repeated the tomato-fight, but this time they brought their own tomatoes from home. After consistent repetition of this act every year, it officially became a part of the festival.

So basically, there’s no religious or historical significance to the origin of this event. However, we, Indians technically have no right to rebut something that the whole Spain believes in. (Of course, we too celebrate a lot of festivals which might seem foolish to the non-Indians. But at least, we won’t do any propaganda for them in foreign lands)

Now, let’s come back to La Tomatina in India. Celebrating a food-fight disguised as a festival in a country which is ranked 2nd for the number of children suffering from malnutrition, is in itself an unreasonable idea.

Some organisers claim that they expect not more than 500 people to participate in this ‘festival’. They haven’t even declared the amount of tomatoes ordered. But, even if we assume that each person throws only ONE tomato (which is absolutely impossible), 500 tomatoes will be transported from our already-meagre farms. According to the universal measurements, 1 medium sized tomato weights 5 to 6 ounces. That means, even if 500 people are throwing 500 tomatoes, around 156 to 187 pounds of wastage of food. On the contrary, if these 500 tomatoes goes into making of tomato soup for the poor malnourished children of India, almost 515 children will enjoy a cup full of thick tasty tomato soup (and that too unadulterated with water or added preservatives).

We Indians believe in ‘Annna he purna Brahma’, which means food is the absolute God for us. On this backdrop, hurling tomatoes is not only a massive waste but also demeaning to the Indian culture.

As a responsible and vigilant citizen of India, I believe that this is just a ZNMD after-effect. Thanks to its record-breaking success, clever ones who know how to spin money from others success have started initiating this fad.

Hoteliers, event organisers, investors, et al realised the fortune in this concept, and have started organising such unsupported, unsubstantiated festivals, thinking that the youngsters have already got lured by the Spanish scenic beauty shown in the movie, and would definitely aspire to experience the same themselves, it’ll be like a cakewalk to drive them to join this idiotic affair. There’s no two ways about the overwhelming response these events are getting (such a plight the La Tomatina Mumbai fan page just crossed 4500!). But what these people don’t know is that there is still millions of youngsters who DO NOT support it at all!

Give India is a renowned non-profit organisation which has been doing commendable work so far. This is a request to the whole Give India Team think twice before getting associated with such events. Or else, you never know when tomato throwing might become mudslinging for you.

Please stick to your motto ‘the power to change lives’, there’s no point in wasting that power by partnering an idea worth a rotten tomato.

-Yours Sincerely,
Friend of a million starving Indians

Yet another assassination

Last night I met a girl
A girl whom I’ve never seen for long
I didn’t know what she is doing
I didn’t know where she has gone
All that I knew all this while was
She disappeared
And I was thankful for that
How I hated her
The way she used to rule
The way she used to fool
Bloody bitch!
When I moved out of my home
And climbed down the stairs
I saw a dark shadow
I turned around
And there she was
Staring at me
With a sneaky smile
I smiled back
Just as a formality... a protocol
But deep down inside my heart
My blood boiled
How stupid of me
To let her barge in once again
To let her overpower once again
I think it’s time for yet another assassination!

Nocturnal Relics

I stand still with eyes wide open
To see her dressed in black
Pointing at me, she moves towards me
Slowly and steadily
One step at a time
Little droplets of sweat
Shine around my forehead
Heart trembles
And knees wobble
Now she stands close to me
Very close to me
So close that I can feel her heavy breath
And her cold eyes piercing right through mine
Like a venom coated iron spade
I open my mouth to ask her
Why is she there
What does she wants
But before I utter a word
My eyes get closed and mouth sealed
With icy cold lips of hers
I feel like I kissed a lizard
A dead lizard
She inserts her blue toxic tongue in to my mouth
And everything around me evaporates in a trice
I open my eyes and see her nowhere
Only a blackish blue mark on my lips
A bruise for the lifetime...

BBism

‘No phone for a month... plz call or msg if extremely important...’

One of my friends puts this as her FB status, and people flood her status with comments asking why.

What actually happened is that her Blackberry gave up on her... reason damaged display. Knowing her since last two years I can declare that it’s quite normal with a girl who either keeps dropping her Apple, cell phone, laptop or at least her car keys or tumbles at least once a day. Now, she must be using her decade-old handset.

Coming back to her status message, even I followed the herd and commented ‘Back to the basics” on it.

Now that was quite impulsive, but later I gave a second thought on it and felt really dumb.

How dependent we have become on technology. Not using BB is not the end of the world. And she won’t even have problems in keeping pace with the world as she has kept herself reachable through her old handset.

It’s just one-step-backward and not back-to-square-one thingy at all!
On the contrary, thank God we have never gone through that phase yet... and hopefully will never go.


Beep Beep -


Excuse me; I just got an SMS on my phone (which ain’t a BB yet... yet to follow the herd)

And it’s just the beginning...

It was not about hanging a man; it was about hanging the evil that is getting fed in our society.

Yesterday, young Mumbaikars conducted a peace rally – a funeral of Mumbai’s safety, from Apsara Talkies to Nair Hospital, Mumbai Central, Mumbai.

Initiated by my friend, Varun Anchan, an aspiring Advertising professional, the news about the campaign got spread like fire, thanks to all the social media tools. In a very short time span of 3 days, the Facebook fan page received over thousand attendees. But surprisingly, the number of the actual attendees did not even reach hundred. Reason being – either the fact that the rally didn’t get legal permission (and it was revealed) or it was raining consistently and our delicate dahlings didn’t want to fall sick or they didn’t get permission from home or they didn’t want to ruin their Sundays. Thousand reasons, thousand possibilities.

But the good thing about it is that only those who cared dared to come. Only the sincere ones made an attempt and we realised how strong the so-called spirit of Mumbai is.

Those who came, treaded from Apsara Talkies to Nair hospital with their mouths taped, because enough had been said, but nothing has been done. Our screams and shouts have always been unheard.

Yesterday, silence was the loudest one. It spoke about how brutally the safety of Mumbai has been killed, how they slaughtered our peace, and how they choked our voices. But, the inner voice of the Mumbaikars (or for that matter, any human being on this planet) cannot be choked so easily.

We mourned on the funeral of the safety of our city. We sympathised for ourselves, our broken hearts and shattered peace.

We did all this, but what next?

Next in Agenda –
1. Meeting to register ourselves for what we stand for
2. Signing a petition to put forth our demands... demand for our safety

Hope, it’ll change things.

Daring-Delhi Upset- Belly

Finally I got to watch this much alleged hilarious, side-spitting, uproarious film – Delhi Belly.

To my surprise, I couldn’t grade the movie as either good, bad or ugly... thanks to so many plot elements that made the film much-talked-about, much-criticised and at the same time much-profiting film of the month.

The Daring Delhi

Aamir has hit a bull’s eye by taking the whole story to the city (infamously) synonymous to crime. Duniya mein there are only three places where anything can happen to anybody anytime – Mumbai, Delhi and Las Vegas. Janta is bored of watching Mumbai masalas throughout their lives, and perhaps Aamir didn’t want to make a Hangover 3. But the last resort Delhi turned out to be the best one.

I have been in Delhi for not more than 24 hours, but some scenes were taking me back to the lanes of this malign metropolis time and again. (No hard feelings, all Delhi-wasi. Every place comes with some good and bad things. I still love the stately roads of Rajpath, and the tangy taste of golgappa a.k.a. our very own panipuri still lingers on my tongue, and I equally hate the crowded roads and poor functioning of trains during monsoons in Mumbai.) Two stark opposite classes of the town are very well portrayed in just 102 minutes. Kudos, Abhinay Deo for this!


The Upset Belly
Like Shobha De said, this film is full of potty scenes (and it’s just doesn’t work for me too, Shobha). I don’t know how people can ‘digest’ filthy toilet humour. No doubt, Kunal Roy Kapoor is a brilliant actor and a big fat reason for the film’s outstanding success, but excuse me; I just couldn’t stand a gross fat man sitting on even-gross potty creating dirty animated sounds.

Yucks!

Negative marking for this one.


Abusement Daily

Gone are the days when Haramzade, main tera khoon pi jaunga was considered as the epitome of profanity. Here comes a f**king hilarious script full of BC, MC and swear words alike.

A bold (but could-have-been-risky) step taken by Mr. Khan.

Today, we all are habituated listening and talking in the DB language. When we are in friends, we start and end our conversations cussing. And, it’s no big deal at all!

Cussing has become good. Best friends have turned ‘big-time-f**kers’, compliments got changed to ‘f**king awesome’ and ‘kicka**’ , and girlfriends have started ‘bi***ing’ not gossiping.

This is the language we use every f**king day, then why not accept it on the big screen?

I think, it’s time to get shot of this hypocrisy and be bold enough to face the reality.

If you are going with family, you’ll obviously get awkward throughout the film. It’ll take time to shed your double standard shields, and have a truly open-minded and frank dialogue with your parents. (I know it’s damn difficult)

If you are going with friends, please don’t go only to laugh your a** off on foul words. For me, as the actors started squealing swear words, it caught my attention for some time, but later I started focusing on the story and the thought more than the words.

In real life, when we are talking generally or discussing something very serious, do we spare a moment and laugh out on when somebody says WTF?
I think it’s very stupid to go brouhaha over the levels of blasphemy or have hysterics on it – it’s just a part of our colloquial vocab.

And I think the same was the motive of the two aces (Aamir & Abhinay) - to make India brave enough to shed its double standard shields.

But, what they didn’t know was that people will come to the theatres only to get pleasure from the cussing part, and not enjoy the real essence of the story... or did they know it??

Hmphh... After all, everything is subjective... sigh.

In short, cussing no cussing, potty-sans potty, its yet another work by the Amir Khan Productions. A beautiful attempt towards amazing detailing, witty dialogues, bold portrayal of hard-hitting reality. But, the impact somehow got flushed in the toilet!


P.S. – Was proud to see my friend’s name in the credits. Good work Waris! You made it there! :)

Thanks to a refreshing blog about an equally refreshing topic, Shobha Dey got a remedy for my boredom.

Watching DB today... (Better late than never)

Boredache

A tasteless pineapple juice, sleepy afternoon and not a single piece of work to do!

Such an irony it is -

When we are snowed under piles of work, we hate life for being mean; and when we have no work at all, we feel how aimless our life is.

Whatever said and done, boredom is the most boring thing in life.

To celebrate or not to celebrate...

Okay, at the outset, let me make it very clear that this post does not mean to make any political inclinations towards or aversions against any political party, body or a member of society.

Yesterday, while sipping through hot coffee, my phone beeped. It was yet another marketing SMS from an unknown number. I opened it insipidly and read ‘Anna Hazare Anshan will start from 16th August.’

The moment I finished reading it, I very instinctively blurted out, “That’s it! I am not going to celebrate this birthday!” The person sitting across the table asked why, and I realised the gravity of my impulsive decision. I made him understand the reason behind it, on which he didn’t comment much.

The topic was closed then and there.

But today, when I rethink over it, the feeling of going by the decision grows stronger and stronger in my mind.

Perhaps, my decision is purely out of guilt for not doing much to support Anna’s last act of protest. Simply ‘liking’ it on Facebook or being Anna’s fan on FB Fan Page doesn’t help, right?

Sometimes, we feel ourselves to be very common to take uncommon steps like participating in social commotions, protests, rallies or any other initiatives taken for the betterment of the society. After all, how will I as ‘Aam Janta’ make a difference? And if the difference can be made, there are thousand others to do that, why bother?

But there are thousand others who think the same. That’s the quirk of fate in this country!

Everybody thinks ‘why me’ and does nothing. And I, disgracefully, fall in the same category.

But there’s one Anna Hazare – a 71 year old man fighting for civil rights of a young country like India.

Now coming to my hasty decision –

16th August happens to be my birthday. And it will be morally wrong to celebrate while a 71 year old man is going on a hunger strike for me as an Indian. While I will be cutting my birthday cake, he’ll be trying to cut a deal with the Government.

I am too small to do anything radical as going on hunger strike (again a typical hypocrite statement). But I can always contribute as much as I can and be there with him in spirits.

Annaji, I am with you!

I believe...

I believe in the sound of church bells coming from a distance.

In the chants that resonate in my heart.

In the silence I feel when I join my hands.

Yes, I do believe in God.

I believe in the sun that sets in the horizon.

In the moon that soothes the worries of the world.

In the stars that promise a dream every night.

Cause I know they’ll come back tomorrow without fail.


Yet,


I believe in my inner voice more than those bells.

In my trust in today than the hope of tomorrow.

In my ability to persevere than the sun, the moon, the stars.

Yes, I believe in the God within me, more than your God.

Monday Blues, what Monday Blues?

Okay, I admit, after a well-spent weekend (with both friends and family), I am really feeling fresh this morning.

And I want to let this fresh and uplifting feeling to creep into my blog too... which means, it’s time for a new theme! :)

Enough of the black fairy and the gloomy black background! Let me welcome freshness in my web world now.

Soft clouds, lush trees, pastures spread across a peaceful township, and a girl and a boy flying above it... a perfect place to be, a perfect dream to live!

On the onset of the most beloved monsoon, with this theme, I welcome you all to my thoughts, to my inner self, to my world...

Welcome to my blog!

Finally...

Alas, it seems like my life has moved out of a long dark tunnel. For past couple of months, things were not falling in place... a lot of things.

The whole family was going through a bad patch. The whole lifecycle had changed. I was sitting at home jobless. I was feeling like the precious days of my life are getting wasted. I was trying hard to fight irritation, temper fits, mood swings and frustration. It was hard, but not impossible.

Now finally, good things are happening in our life. Lots of good things happening around. Lots of good things happening in my life. A lot of them are positive ones.

Though it's pouring outside, sunny days are back in our life!

The other day I heard a beautiful statement by Jitendra Joshi in some interview – ‘God gifts different things to different people. Only one thing that he gives in common to all of us is TIME. We all get the same 24 hours of the day. But it’s up to us how we utilise those hours.’

Such a beautiful thought! Isn’t it?

This really made me contemplate for a while. And then I realised that the bad patch was purposefully programmed for me... to make me learn a few lessons of life like -

1.Never lose your patience

2.Be courageous

3.Always keep in mind ‘Even this shall pass away’

4.Never ever blame your destiny or life or any other person

5.Always believe in yourself

6.Believe in God

7.Don’t fight with God

8.Cry, don’t burry anything underneath

9.Share, don’t cry

10.Always smile and thank God every morning for gifting yet another beautiful day

Thanks Life for teaching me lessons, no school or institution will teach.

Aye Parbat Rasta De Mujhe, Aye Kaanton Daaman Chhod Do

A maestro of colours and creativity departed his life.

Today, Mr. M. F. Hussain died at the age of 95.

While the world is mourning for such a huge loss, there is some unrest and upheaval in the hearts of many around us.

MF was controversy's favourite child! Due to some of his controversial paintings, Mr. Hussain himself had drawn a lot of aversions towards him. His quite infamous Saraswati painting and naked lady in the form of India also made him undergo into so-called self-imposed exile. The charges that were imposed on him in 2006 for hurting sentiments of people by painting Hindu Gods and Goddesses nude were no doubt pertinent.

But that doesn’t mean we should rake over the ashes now.

Why do people remember all the negative things about others and miss those ones that are real gems in world’s art treasury.

In his more than 70 year long career, it’s not just sacrilegious or blasphemous paintings that he has drawn. He has been a mastermind behind some of the remarkable contributions in art legacy like –

1.Encouraged Indian avant-garde, engaged at an international level by joining Progressive Artists’ Group

2.Fida - An illustrious series of paintings based on his muse, Madhuri Dixit

3.Even more famous series on horses, which later turned into iconic representation of MF’s style

4.His paintings on major cities like Calcutta, Banares, Rome and Beijing

5.A whole series on Mother Teresa

6.A series dedicated to the major nine religions of the world

7.A series depicting the British Raj India

8.‘Portrait of the 20th Century’ – 40 feet high mural - depicting all the major personalities of arts, science, dance, literature, politics etc.

9.Produced and directed a few notable films like Gaj Gamini, Meenaxi: A tale of three cities

10.A series of paintings inspired by the Hindu epic, Mahabharata

11.A large diptych of the battle of Ganga and Jamuna: Mahabharata 12

12.During her last encounter with MF, only a few hours before his death in London, Shobha De learnt that he is in the middle of his biggest paintings that will show the entire Ramayana on canvas. This was supposed to be his token of love and respect towards India. But...


Salil Tripathi had once said that it is hypocritical to place curbs on Husain's artistic freedom. What's more shameful is that a government that claims to be the secular alternative to Hindu nationalists is threatening to prosecute Husain. This does not do India proud; it adds to India's disgrace.

But all said and done, I think we should let the bygones be bygones. We are humans, and it is a human tendency to commit mistakes. He was charged for his mistakes, and was facing the consequences till the last breath of his life.

Now he is liberated from the confines of world’s doctrine. And, now that he is away from this dogmatic world, let his soul rest in peace. Cursing a departed soul, won’t do much good to anybody.

So, let it be people.

It’s okay.

It’s understood that we have strong emotions and have a right to give our opinions, but understand the situation. Let us all behave like good children and observe a minute’s silence for the prodigy.




P.S:

I remained silent for a few moments, and suddenly my heart started humming these lines:

Door nigaahon se aansoo bahaataa hain koee
Kaise naa jaaoo mai, muz ko bulaataa hain koee
Yaa toote dil ko jod do, yaa saare bandhan tod do
Aye parabat rastaa de muze, aye kaanton daaman chhod do

Yeh Duniya Yeh Mehfil Mere Kaam ki nahin..